Page 86 of Unruly

“And what if he walks away?”

The question hangs there because I don’t know what to say.

Then she answers. “Then he wasn’t your person, Halle. But I don’t think that’s how this story ends.”

She reaches into her cart and pulls out a fresh loaf of sourdough, offering it to me with a smile. “You know … when I got to Cedarbrook, things weren’t always simple for me and Eli either. I put that man through hell before I realized I didn’t have to face my past alone.”

“I didn’t know …” I whisper.

“Most people don’t.” She shrugs. “I spent years thinking—when I ran from everything—that I was failing my family, that it meant I failed. It took a long time—and a lot of lonely nights on the porch watching the stars or listening to Ben—to realize those aren’t the same thing.”

I nod slowly, understanding what she’s saying. “They’re not.”

“No.” She points gently at me. “And neither is your body, sweetheart. It doesn’t define your worth or what you can build with the right man. Scars tell stories of survival, even if they aren’t ones everyone can see.”

I blink hard, refusing to cry in the middle of the aisle again.

Tierney pulls me into another hug, this one longer, motherly. I sink into it.

When she steps back, she smiles. “If you ever need anything, and I mean anything—a listening ear, a strong cup of tea—you call me.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I mean it.” She squeezes my hand once more. “And if my son does something spectacularly stupid …”

I manage a watery laugh. “I will let you know.”

“Atta girl.” Her grin is pure mischief.

We say our goodbyes a few minutes later, carts rolling in opposite directions. But her words follow me like a shadow all the way through checkout and out to my car.

He’s going to surprise you.

By the time I get home, the ice cream in my bag has begun to soften at the edges. I unpack on autopilot: milk and eggs in the fridge, frozen vegetables tucked away, cereal lined up neatly in the pantry, coffee grounds beside the maker.

The house is quiet except for the soft thuds of cabinet doors and the hum of the refrigerator. Usually, I crave this silence. Today, it just makes me feel antsy. My phone sits on the counter, screen dark but full of unanswered questions.

I pick it up, and read Cash’s messages again.

Tierney’s voice echoes in my head.

He’s going to surprise you.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

There’s only one way to find out.

My thumbs hover over the keyboard. Delete. Rewrite. Delete again. Finally, before I can overthink it …

Me:

Tonight sounds good.

Three dots appear almost instantly, and my heart beats hard against my ribs.

Cash: