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“Stuff your brother wanted to keep. So we are.”
“Why can’t I look inside?”
“Because I don’t want you throwing it out.”
“I promise I won’t.” Not if it’s important to her.
She steps aside, and I pull the flaps open again. The first thing I see is my old leather keepsake box. Something I used to keep my crap in. I don’t know where any of the stuff in it went, but I gave the box to Elliot for his collectibles, eventually.
I lift the lid and am instantly hit with a familiar scent—several, in fact. Taking me back to blurred moments in my past.
I lift my old jersey and set it aside. My fingers spread across a small deck of my cards—all cased and in perfect condition. Then I lift the one thing I never thought I’d see again.
“What is that?”
I chuckle softly. “It’s…the puck I used to play with on Hideaway Lake in high school. I was throwing it out sometime after graduation because it was so beat up. But Elliot wanted to keep it. He asked me to sign it because I might be famous one day.” I run my finger over the faint signature. “Of course I didn’t have the fancy white and silver pens they used to sign these things so you can barely see it.”
She plucks it from my fingers. “I remember when this would land on our side of the lake when the girls and I were practicing.” She looks up at me. “You were never the one to come get them.”
My expression drops, and I stare at her. For a moment, I think I misunderstand what she’s telling me. But the way she’s looking at me, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, tells me there’s no mistake.
That was a confession.
One I’d never in a million years have known otherwise.
Pressing her lips together, she drops her gaze and hands it back to me. “Don’t throw this out.”
I press it back into her palm. “Will you hold onto that for me?”
She smirks, twisting the puck in her hand. “Okay, but don’t make it a habit of dumping your old junk on me.”
My phone buzzes, and I reach into my back pocket.
Noah: Channel 4 News
I reach for the remote on the sofa and point to the television, then jump to the channel.
It’s an interview.
With the lead anchor of the news network and Troy Mayfield.
Pepper freezes and watches. Troy is sharply dressed as usual. He doesn’t look exhausted or worn down. Or very sad for that matter. In fact, he looks very much camera ready.
“Well, we’re happy to hear that things are coming along in your campaign for mayor. Has there been any news on Ms. Walker?”
Troy’s grin tightens. “The wedding is still on. Penelope just…needed some time to…reconnect with family.”
“Oh, does she have a big family?”
“The biggest, I’m afraid. We were going to go visit them together but—I have to work.”
“Where is her family?”
There’s a beat before he answers. “All over.”
“That’s amazing.” The anchorman chuckles and raises his arms. “How will you ever find her?” he jokes. And we all know why. Because he’s not buying this guy’s bullshit.
There’s no way Pepper is marrying this madman.
