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“I’m not going back to Cherry Cove tonight.”
“I know.” He nods. “I meant Oak Grove.”
My mouth falls open. “Home…here?”
“Yes.” He plays with his keys. “You do still live there, right?”
“Yeah,” I drawl, as another drop of rain hits my cheek.
“Then, come on,” he nods toward the parking lot. “It’s going to start pouring any minute and I don’t want your dress to get ruined. We can go home and talk there.”
He turns and starts to make his way toward the Jeep as the sky opens and it starts to pour. Watching him walk away in the rain sends a lance of pain across my chest. I can’t speak, can’t move. My heart feels like an anchor, dropping to the sea floor as a powerful wave déjà vu hits me. But then he stops and turns,sticking out his hand.
“Are you coming?”
With those three words I realize he’s not walking away from me—he’s waiting for me—and realizing this, I pick up the skirt of my gown and hurry toward him, sliding my hand into his.
Maybe the past isn’t broken beyond repair. Maybe it needs to be put back together piece by piece and become something new.
Chapter 16
Cruz
At first glance, Oak Grove looks like a typical Southern estate. A long drive, lined with sweeping oaks dripping with Spanish moss, leads to an impressive mansion, with six columns and a wraparound porch framed by box hedges. But as you approach, its grandeur only gets more impressive. Rows of rectangular paned windows, framed by thick black shutters, and rounded patio doors, face out, and lush grounds extend as far as the eye can see.
Once you step inside, however, it’s a blend of historic meets modern that is hard not to be impressed by. Stepping through the front door, the familiar open foyer greets me, while a dramatic staircase on both sides connects multiple floors, each with their own wing, including one that was mine for the time that I lived here.
The wood floors are still polished to a shine. Large oak slats with rings and knots that are probably more than a century old. While high ceilings and crown moldings flow into rooms filled with art, keepsakes, and furniture of every kind, including leather sofas, armchairs, writing desks, and more.
It’s impeccable. Every room a seamless blend of function meets fashion. Yet, it doesn’t feel like a museum as one would expect, but warm and lived in. It surprises me how welcome I feel here, even now, despite everything.
I look around, taking it all in again, and when my eyes fall on Ellery, my chest tightens. Every day I lived here I longed for her, and now, all I want to do is hold her, just like I did that night in the ocean.
“Strange being back here?” She peels off her gloves, tossingthem down onto the round table in the foyer, where they land with a wet slap.
Without my garage remote, we had to come through the front door. I parked as close as I could, but we still managed to get soaking wet just running those few feet from the Jeep to the door.
“It is,” I admit, slicking my wet hair back.
“Ever think you’d return?” she asks while wicking drops of rain from her arms.
“Sure,” I shake the water from my own hand. “Just didn’t think it’d be so soon.”
She looks up, eyes on mine. “Because of me?”
I swallow to ease the way her response makes me feel. There were two in the equation of us. But what I did, the way I left, that was all me.
“Because of a lot of things,” I say instead.
She nibbles her lower lip and nods. “Still, it has to be weird to be here again.”
“It is, but you know, it’s also good to be back.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes brighten a bit.
“Of course,” I smile and look around again. “I may not have loved moving down here and going to Elmhurst, but this place always felt like home. It’s never been about the place, but the people. My dad, your mom, you…it felt like a family, you know?”
“I think that may be part of the reason you let me go,” she says simply. The moment she says it, I stop breathing. “I didn’t think about it then, but that night we had dinner with our parents, I could see it. They’re really happy together, and it’s easy to feel happy around them. That’s family. That feeling of comfort.”
