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“Thank you for coming all the way out here to update us, Sheriff Dean. I know Sam and I will be relieved to know who set this fire. We’ll breathe easier knowing they’re off the streets.”

After Sam walks the sheriff to the door and locks it behind him, he turns back to me. Pulling me into his arms, he buries his face in my neck, holding me so tightly I can feel his steady heartbeat against mine. For the first time since that terrible night on the road, I finally feel like I can breathe again.

On Friday night, I sit at a corner table at Ash & Olive, watching the candle flame flicker in the center of the white tablecloth. I’ve been a nervous wreck all day, wondering how this conversation would play out. Was he hoping we could make a go of this like I was? Or had that recent trip to see his attorney been the beginning of the end?

Fifteen minutes pass.

Then thirty.

Then it’s almost a full hour.

Every time the restaurant door opens, my heart leaps into my throat, only to sink straight into my stomach when it isn’t Sam. I call his phone twice, but it goes straight to voicemail. By 8:30 the waitress gives me an empathetic look, and I swallow down my pride. He’s not coming. I attempt to leave cash on the table to cover my drink, but Jason waves me off. Grabbing my purse, I try to hold my head up as I walk out.

Something had to have come up at the winery. It just had to. I’d gone through various scenarios in my head, worried someone might have tried to cause more harm to Sutter Creek. But when I reached out to Rosario to check in and make sure everything was okay, she confirmed the house was quiet, and she’d locked up for the night.

Part of me worried he was hurt. But I knew enough people at St. Luke’s emergency room that someone would’ve contacted either me or Sebastian if that were the case. And my phone had been radio silent.

It was a big night. We were going to talk about the future. Had he gotten what he needed and decided it was too difficult to face the music? Maybe after meeting with his lawyer, he felt it was best he wait until the end of our contract to dissolve our marriage. Or did a more appealing option than meeting me for a serious talk come along?

The rejection burns worse than it ever did in high school. Had he finally overcome his mother’s brainwashing and moved on? Had discovering a son changed everything? Is Gavin all the family he needs? He’d seemed generally interested in moving forward. Now he couldn’t even bother to show up to talk about our future?

I pull up to the red light down the street, my hands gripping the steering wheel as tears sting the corners of my eyes. Don’t be ridiculous, Alexis. I’m sure there’s a good explanation for this. He probably forgot to charge his phone again⁠—

But as I glance casually to my left, my heart completely shatters.

Parked in the turning lane directly across from me is Sam’s SUV. Gavin is in the passenger seat, and Sam is at the wheel. Both of them have their heads thrown back, laughing hysterically. Completely lost in some shared joke.

A fresh wave of nausea hits me. He didn’t forget. There was no emergency at the vineyard. He decided he’s rather spend the evening laughing it up with his son. One whose maturity level is closer to Sam’s than mine, apparently.

I drive straight back to the main house, my chest aching. It was bad enough I had to face my fears tomorrow with this flight to San Diego. There’s no way I can stay at home spiraling. I’d hoped Sam was going to be my rock tonight. Keeping me distracted until the morning came. Yet it appears I’m on my own. Again.

At the next stop sign, I call Kat’s number.

“Hey, Lexi. What’s up?”

“Kat, I know you are knee-deep in kids. But is there any way you’re up for a visitor? I’ve had a rough night and was hoping for some advice from a woman who knows what it takes for a real relationship to work.” A sniffle escapes.

“Oh, honey. You know you never need to ask. What happened? Did you two have a fight?”

“No. You’d have to show up to argue.”

“Ugh. Men! Do I need to get Nick to kick his ass? I normally fight my own battles, but I just got my nails done for the first time all year.” She laughs.

I feel the corner of my mouth curl. She always knows how to lift my spirits. “No. No ass-kicking is necessary. Not yet anyway.”

“You’re no fun. Because something tells me he has it coming. I’m actually staying in town tonight at our bungalow because I have to work the dreaded early shift in the ER in the morning. Come on over here. Are you safe to drive, or do you want me to come get you?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just too upset to see his dumb face tonight.” The image of him laughing hysterically in his car comes to the forefront of my mind. Grrr. “I know Sam and I will have to talk about it later, but I’ve got that long flight tomorrow. We can do it then. I need space right now.”

“I’ll see you soon. Drive careful.”

Hanging up the call, I swipe away my tears. I’m certain Sam wouldn’t leave me hanging in the morning. He promised he’d be there. Sure, he’d agreed to meet tonight as well, but there’s no way he’d leave me to take this flight alone. Not as terrified as I’ve been.

I pull my suitcase down from the top shelf of the bedroom closet, yanking on a stack of sweaters. As I pull, a dusty box tumbles off the top shelf and crashes onto the floor with a loud thud.

I kneel down, running my fingers over the faded, decorated wood. A painful spike of nostalgia hits me. It’s one of the time capsules we made in high school art class. “I remember this.” The assignment we were given was to decorate a box and place inside the things we held most dear.

The top is decorated in our high school colors with soccer and football paraphernalia decoupaged to its surface. I flip it over. Etched in faint graphite in the bottom corner are two initials: SL.