“He’s a good man,” my father went on quietly.“The kind who shows up when things get hard.Your mother would’ve liked him.”
That did it.My throat tightened.Such a simple thing for him to say, but it cracked me wide open.
Your mother.Not Gladys.Alice.
And Alice did like him.She’d written it in her letter.Be nice to Owen.I think he’s always liked you.
I cleared my throat, forcing away the sudden prick of tears.“Thanks for the ride.”
I unlatched my seatbelt, opened the truck door and started to slide out.
“And Piper?”
I paused, looking back at him.
“Come see me, huh?”he said, eyes fixed on the windshield.“Don’t make me wonder how you’re doing.”
My chest tightened.“I won’t,” I promised.
Then I was out of the truck, closing the door and stepping aside.He put it in reverse and backed out of the driveway with a slow, familiar ease.Then he was disappearing down the dusty country road.
I stood there for a moment, my heart a riot in my chest.
He might not be my biological father, but he would always be my dad.
Slowly, I turned to face Owen.
He leaned against the cab of his pickup, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his jeans, waiting.
Maybe it was the shock of the day, but for the first time, I saw him clearly.
Someone who had never left this town when I ran.I remembered his face from our high school days, remembered the boy—but this wasn’t him anymore.This was the man who stayed.
The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled to his elbows, revealing a golden expanse of sun-warmed skin.His jeans were faded.His boots scuffed and well-loved.
We stared at each other across the stretch of dirt driveway between us, the moment stretching thin and taut—
—and then my feet moved before my brain realized I’d given them permission.
Before I even reached him, he opened his arms.
I went into them without hesitation.Because going to him didn’t feel like falling apart.It felt like relief.
He wrapped me in his strength, tucking me close, my forehead fitting easily beneath his chin.
He held me there, saying nothing for a long, quiet moment.
And that was all right by me.
It was like he understood I needed a bit of space to get the truth from my parents.He didn’t question me.Didn’t need to.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I murmured against his chest.
“It’s all right.”
“Did you know?”Because if he did, I wasn’t sure I could handle that bit of truth right now.
His arms tightened around me.“No.”
