Page 32 of Sweet Redemption

“Sweetie . . .” Leo sighs, and she lifts both her bushy little brows. “Fine. How about we get ice cream on the way home.”

She shakes her head. “Extra tablet time and ice cream.”

“Isobel—that’s extortion.”

Her small shoulders shrug as she perks up.

“Fine. Ice cream and extra tablet time. Just don’t tell Mommy.” She skips over to him and kisses his cheek, then holds her hands out for the football I toss her way before rejoining the two littles.

“Your kid is a little scary. You know that, right?” I ask, kind of in awe of my niece.

“Yeah. I know. At least she stopped demanding a twenty every time I cursed. She just about bankrupted me last year. Now, where were we?” He makes a production of asking. “Right, you were about to fill me in.”

“I don’t know, man. We were kids. Then we weren’t. One day, she was leaving for UNC, and then—fuck, I don’t know. She was Serena. She was the only thing I ever wanted that I knew I was never supposed to have. There’s so much history . . .”

Leo drops his chin, listening, like he’s not sure he believes what he’s hearing.

“There was always something there, but we were never in the right place . . . It was never the right time . . .” I trail off, thinking about the day we said goodbye on the beach. The way the pale copper strands of her hair shimmered against the fading sun. How badly I wanted her. “I thought I could stay away from her. I was wrong.”

“So you what—dated?” he pushes.

Thousands of memories assault my mind. The taste of her lips, so fucking soft. The way her cold hands felt against my face. Her head pressed against my chest as she slept. “Something like that.”

I don’t tell my brother that it was happening right under his nose.

Fuck, he was oblivious.

“Did you love her?” Leo asks because he’s Leo, and he’ll never know when to shut up. And when I don’t answer, the pain in my ass leans forward. “Brother . . . when did it end?”

“Officially?” I laugh because I’m fairly certain we started and stopped more times than I could count back then. Two kids too damn young for the way we felt, with too much pressure on us already. “Pretty sure the last time we spoke was when I told her that I was marrying Britt . . .”

“Shit, Hendrix. Did Britt know?”

My gut churns, remembering those months. The ones after Serena and I broke. The ones after Britt told me she was pregnant. About the cancer. “Britt knew everything.”

“Did Serena?”

And there’s the knockout punch.

“No.”

Serena

Olivia and I bought the house on the edge of the vineyard for this view . . . this moment. The purple sky. The golden sun setting over the rolling hills. The sweet smell of grapes and lavender. It was the most at peace I’d been anywhere other than the beach. This view only coming second to the sand and the salt and the sea at golden hour.

I trace the dried four-leaf clover pressed between the pages of my journal, and my body relaxes, remembering the first time Hendrix plucked one for me.

Freshman Year In College

God, that year was a nightmare. Classes kicked my ass. For a girl who never struggled with studying in high school, college was a whole new level of hard. I’m not sure I slept at all in September between cramming in all-night study sessions, working with the team tutors, and practicing with my UNC team. Thankfully, national practices didn’t happen for two more months.

But between all the work were the games, and they were incredible. Some people rewarded themselves with Tuesday night parties since most of us didn’t have Wednesday morning classes. Games were my reward. Winning was better than any party.

I was good.

Hell, I was great.

I was the best attacking center midfielder in the Atlantic Coast Conference and one of the best in Division 1 soccer. It didn’t matter that I was also one of the youngest. I earned the respect I was given, and it was hard-earned. But none of that left time for much else. I texted with Liv and Saylor. I FaceTimed with Mom and Dad and got to see them at the occasional game. And then there was Hendrix . . .