Page 125 of Goode Tidings

He nods. "Sorry I blabbed to everybody at school about your obsession."

"Sorry I punched you in the face."

"No, you're not."

I grin. "You're right. I'm not."

Justin sighs. "I better get back. Everyone was asleep when I left. If they wake up and I'm not there, they'll think I disappeared again."

"Can you blame them?"

"No." Justin stands. "That's why I gotta go. I need to talk to Oliver. There's a lot to say."

I look at the redness in Justin's eyes, his rumpled clothes and pale skin. "You look like you met the business end of a mountain goat. Why don't you take a shower here, borrow some clothes, and I'll grab you a cup of coffee while you're doing it."

Justin stays put, like he's not sure what to do next even though I've laid it out for him. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because I love Oliver, and he deserves your best effort."

His lip twitches with a shadow of a smile. "You love my ex-wife, too."

"Don't make it weird."

"You already did."

I grab him a set of clothes from my duffel, tossing them on the bed. Before I close the door behind me, he says, "I take my coffee⁠—"

"I don't give a shit. You get what you get and you don't throw a fit."

He's laughing when I close the door behind me.

CHAPTER 57

Eden

"Oliver's in bed, but he's awake," I say, pointing Justin down the hall needlessly. Obviously Justin knows where he's going in the cabin.

"I shared this room with Callum when we visited as kids," Justin says as we approach, the note of nostalgia in his voice taking me by surprise.

"Apparently you also share his clothing as adults." My gaze wanders over the shirt that is one size too big for Justin. A shirt I know belongs to Callum.

I already know that's where Justin went this morning. I was up when he arrived, a hot cup of coffee in hand.

I'll admit to having assumed he'd fled. But there was a strong part of me that prayed he hadn't. That this time would be different.

I was so happy when his car pulled in. I'd just returned from bringing Oliver a cup of water, but I hadn't told him his dad was gone. I simply couldn't, and now I'm relieved I didn't.

Justin had explained where he'd gone, and I'd been so relieved I fought back tears.

"Justin," I say, stopping him outside Oliver's closed door.

He turns and glances back at me. He looks tired in a way that's got nothing to do with last night's wine and this morning's early visit to Callum. His exhaustion is emotional. Like he's so done with acting the way he has for years. Even he is sick of himself.

"Just remember that Oliver's still young, even if he seems older. He's very sensitive. Saying the wrong thing can be far more upsetting for him than you realize." I don't need to control how this conversation goes, but, as the parent who knows Oliver by heart, I need to make sure I arm Justin with as much knowledge as I can. Oliver has been through enough with his dad, and I desperately wish for every interaction between the two of them to be smooth sailing.

"I got this," Justin reassures. "I was a fourteen-year-old boy once upon a time."

"Yeah, but you⁠—"