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“Yeah. I know. I should have left. I should have told someone. I should have done a million things, but I was frozen. Frozen in fear for so many years. I lost my entire twenties.” I shake my head. I hate reflecting on my past mistakes.

“I’m glad you were brave enough to leave,” he says gently. “Permanently.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I didn’t think I would.”

He bends over and presses a light kiss on my forehead.

“It’s heartbreaking working at the shelter sometimes. Seeing women go back,” I admit.

“You are amazing. Not everyone could do what you did. What you do.”

“I don’t know. I feel so stupid for getting into that situation in the first place.” The words whisper through the night.

“Hey.” He places his massive hands on both of my shoulders and looks directly into my eyes. “This was not your fault.” His words are slow and steady.

I give a brisk nod because my throat is too tight, and I’m not quite sure whether I believe him.

He rubs his fingers through his blond beard. “How old were you when you lost your dad?”

“Seventeen,” I murmur to the window on the far side of the room instead of directly to him.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums. “And how old were you when you met him?”

“Seventeen.” It’s barely a whisper, but I know he heard me when he hums again.

“You know what I think? I think you are being too hard on yourself. You just lost your dad, and here’s this older guy showering you with attention. He knew what he was doing and took advantage.”

I don’t say anything, but I let his words sink in. I never thought of it like that before. I met Joel only a few months after my dad, and I was wallowing in grief. He was a bright spot in my life—until he wasn’t.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I still feel guilty though, like I didn’t work hard enough. I gave up on my marriage. You know?”

“You didn’t give up.” There’s a little edge in his voice. “I hate when people think that. There’s a phrase in German that roughly translates to ‘better a terrible end than endless terror.’ I think that’s the case for you.”

“So you don’t think I’m a failure?” I ask, barely above a whisper.

“Never.” His response comes out soft but certain. “You are the best person I know.” He wraps me up in his big body, and I settle in.

Chapter Forty-Six

Scarlett

Iwould be biting my nails if it wasn’t for this massive winter glove on my hand. Instead, I’m tapping my foot against white puffy snow that’s stuck on the bottom of the concrete of the stadium, and flying through the air.

It’s the conference championship game, and this event is intense and boring all at the same time. It’s also extremely cold as the snow pelts my face, and the temperature keeps dropping.

There’s a giant lot of us today for this game, cheering my brother and the team on. I’m wearing a “Goodick” jersey over my puffy coat, but underneath my pile of layers?

Fischer.

The Revs offense is on the field, down by six points with less than a quarter to finish.

This is probably one of the most boring football games I’ve ever witnessed, and I’m including Sebastian’s Pop Warner games when he was so young nobody knew what they were doing quite yet.

Houston scored a touchdown early, but due to the high winds, they missed the extra point. It’s more than the Revs have done all game, though.

Houston is number one at stopping the runs this year, and they’re proving it in this game. Quinn Banks usually has no problem throwing the ball down the field, but the visibility is low, and the ball is slick. His completion percentage is at a season low today.

Calvin has played incredible. My brother too. I know cheering for the offensive line may be weird, but do you know how important they are?