Olivia drew her lips together, rolling them tightly. It was her tell, something I’d learned early on meant she had thoughts about whatever was going on but that she wasn’t going to voice them.
“Come on, Liv. Don’t gimme that look,” I groaned, tipping my head back.
She rolled her eyes at me before bending forward to set our daughter down. “Girl, you’re getting too big!” she said, forcing a smile. “Who gave you permission to keep growing? I thought I said you weren’t allowed.”
Charlie giggled, looking down at the length of her small frame. “I gotta grow, Mommy. It’s how I’m gonna be big like you one day.”
“I know you do, baby.” Olivia crouched in front of Charlie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hey, why don’t you go show Uncle Ben the stuffed animal we picked up yesterday?”
My guitarist was close enough I didn’t need to grab his attention. He marched over at the sound of his name and put his hands on his hips. “You got another new toy? Mav is gonna be so jealous!”
He really wouldn’t, but none of us were going to tell Charlie that. She adored Ben’s son.
Maverick was the result of a one-night stand in Chicago ten years ago after Ben found out his wife had cheated on him. He’d had a rough go of it after that, but his son was the light of his life. It’d given him a reason to keep going when things got hard.
I can relate.
“Really?” Charlie asked, jumping up and down.
“Really, really,” Ben said with a dip of his chin. “Wanna show me what it looks like so I can tell him?”
Charlie gripped Ben’s hand and took off running in the direction of the parked vans we’d rented. Olivia and I both waited until they were gone before she spoke. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What do you mean?” I crossed my arms and shifted on my feet.
She looked away, lowering her voice. “I don’t want to see you like you were before. I don’t want you to stay here and drink yourself?—”
“Olivia—”
She whirled toward me, jabbing at the center of my chest. “No, you’re going to listen to me, Grady Wilde. I won’t be here to pull you out of the dark again. This time, Charlie will be with you. I need to know being here isn’t going to send you back to that place again.” Her chocolate eyes watered slightly, but she wouldn’t let the tears fall. She never did.
“Liv, I won’t?—”
“Promise me,” she said, meeting my gaze. “Promise me you know what you’re doing for our daughter’s sake.”
I was reaching for her the second her lip wobbled, pulling her into my chest and wrapping my arms around her. I let my chin rest on top of her head and looked out over the pasture. As much as I wanted to say those words, I couldn’t. Not yet anyway.
I wasn’t going to break another promise to a woman I loved.
cleo
. . .
I roundedthe corner of the barn, following the footworn path through the pasture until I reached my destination. The sun was fading fast, but I didn’t need light to know where I was going. It was a trek I’d made countless times growing up. I knew it by heart, even when I wished I didn’t.
Since the moment I walked away from the table, my phone had been vibrating in my pocket. It was likely just Josie or Lennox, although I wondered how long it would take until one of them came searching for me. I shot off a single text, letting them both know I was okay but I needed space.
Grief was weird.
Up ahead, I saw my destination and felt the first sharp tug telling me to turn around. The little voice in my mind echoed the sentiment, telling me how bad an idea this was. What was I looking for? Peace? Solace? This place wouldn’t make it any better. If anything, it would make it worse.
But did I listen? Nope. I guess I never did.
Hidden next to one of our holding pens was my old treehouse. Dad built it when I was about five so I could come out with him and the hands during the summer. Watching him workwas one of my favorite things, but my attention span as a little kid wasn’t the best. It was his way of compromising. I had a way to entertain myself and keep out of the sun while they were working. It sat high up in the tallest oak tree, surrounded by a cluster of orange and brown leaves. There was a tire swing hanging right below it, blowing softly with the wind.
I’d spent so many summers right here, daydreaming about my future. They were some of my best memories. Things had turned out so different from how I imagined them, but I’d been so young and full of hope. Idealistic, as my mom would call it. The woman I was today couldn’t have been further from that girl.
I stood beneath the oak, one hand on the rung of the ladder. It felt sturdy enough. For years, Dad had made sure to maintain the structure because he’d told me he wanted his grandkids to be able to use it. One day, I hoped my sisters would make sure he got his wish. He really would make the best grandpa.
