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I’ve never felt so free as when those words left my lips.
Not because a secret that had been weighing on me was finally out in the open, but because after years, I was finally allowed to grieve for the only love I’d ever had.
And now, four years after his death, and I still hurt. It felt like a weight was pressing on my chest when I thought of him, making it nearly impossible to breathe. It felt like something vital to my body and soul had been ripped from me.
Four years later, and I still wanted to hate him for what he’d done to me, and the way he’d treated me, in those last months. I wanted the chance to yell at him face to face for telling me that he loved me, but wasn’t in love with me, after taking everything from me and making me believe that we could have it all.
Four years later, and I was still so sure that I was in love with him despite everything. I had a feeling the greatest love I would ever know had been taken from me too soon—and I would never know anything like it again.
Four years later, and guilt still clawed at my chest whenever I thought of how I betrayed Grey, even though she had clearly found her happy ever after with my brother.
And Deacon Carver had taken it, all of my grief and my hatred and my guilt, and thrown it in my face.
Fast, little footsteps sounded down the hallways, headed in my direction.
I quickly swiped at another tear that fell free, and blew out a slow, calming breath before pushing away from the door. I turned just in time to watch Keith fly into the living room—his smile was wide, and his face smudged with black streaks.
“Look, Mommy! Now I’m like Deaton and Uncle J!”
My stomach clenched, but my smile didn’t falter as I lifted him into my arms to get a better look at his charcoal-covered face. “Wow, look at you! Is Uncle J drawing?”
He nodded enthusiastically, then began squirming. “I wanna go show Deaton!”
“Uh . . .” I sucked in air through my teeth, and scrunched up my nose. “How about not right now, buddy? He’s busy, remember?”
Grey and Aly emerged from th
e hall, quickly followed by Jagger.
“What do you think?” Jagger asked, beaming at me. Just like Deacon, he had black smudges on his jaw, and his hands were stained the same.
Only difference was Jagger created art to earn those stains, and Deacon was probably destroying my car out of spite.
Before I could answer, Keith repeated, “I wanna go show Deaton!”
I hesitated before letting him down. “Okay . . . but only for a second!” I added on quickly. “He’s busy.”
“All right!” Keith shouted, and rushed out of the building.
I didn’t realize I was staring at the closed door, chewing on my bottom lip until Grey bumped my shoulder with hers.
“You look red, you okay?”
“Huh?” I said quickly, and turned to look at her and a sleepy Aly.
“I said you’re red. Are you okay?”
I tilted my face away from Jagger when he came toward me. “Yeah, just a long day.” At least it wasn’t a lie.
Grey’s calculating eyes roamed over me, but Jagger spoke before she could.
“What’d Deacon say?”
My next breath got caught in my throat, and my body stilled as I finally met Jagger’s gaze. My voice came out breathy as I fought against the trembling I had only just succeeded in stopping moments before. “What do you mean?”
“About your car?” he responded slowly, drawing out the words.
“Oh.” I hoped the relief that washed through me wasn’t noticeable. “Um, I’m not sure. Car talk I don’t understand.” I glanced back at the door and mumbled, “I should get Keith before Deacon freaks out that a child is near him.”
