Page 24 of The Scars We Heal

“Aw, but it’s so cute.” I lifted it so the head was in front of my face.

“Jake, I swear to God.”

“Okay, Whit, you should probably put it back.” With a sigh, I set the snake back in Whitley’s palms, and she ran away again.

After a little while longer, we moved from the front porch to the kitchen as the sun hid behind the clouds, our pitcher of iced tea getting low.

Whitley immediately retreated to her room to play with her toys, so we leaned against the kitchen counters, shoulder to shoulder.

“Do you ever think your life will go a certain way and then it doesn’t?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, turning my head toward her.

“Like, you know, when you’re a kid you have all these big dreams and things you hope you’ll do one day, and then one day comes and you haven’t actually done those things.”

“Sure.” I nodded. “I mean, when I was younger, I wanted to be an astronaut, and clearly that didn’t happen.”

Despite her laugh at my attempt to lighten the mood, the light had dropped from Caitlin’s eyes, her face settling into an unreadable mask.

“Where’d you disappear to just now?” I asked as I moved to stand in front of her and tuck a strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear.

Caitlin shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

A heavy sigh fell from her lips. “It’s just that we’ve been back in Silver Creek for a whole month now. You’d think I wouldn’t feel so much…” Her voice trailed off before her gaze flicked up to mine. “Guilt, I guess. I think Whitley is happy here, but what if she’s not? What if I’m not giving her the life she deserves?”

“You’re doing amazing, Cait. That little girl is so loved, and I can say with confidence that she’s happy.” I rested my hands on her shoulders. “I think the more important question is, are you happy?”

Worrying her lip between her teeth, she dipped her head, and her eyes fell to the floor as she hesitated for a moment too long. “I guess.”

“Hmm…” I tapped my lips. “What’s keeping you from being happy?”

Her body tensed, then her posture slumped as though she was crumbling under some invisible pressure. “I just don’t feel like I’m doing enough. All of this”—she gestured to the world around us—“is just a lot, I guess. I feel like I should be doing so much more. Maybe if I was just better, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”

“I see.” I nodded, despite the frustration that gnawed at me after hearing Caitlin say those things about herself.

I knew there was about a nine-year gap of time I was missing, but my gut said that Caitlin had always been enough. She’d always been more than enough, and maybe her ex shouldn’t have been such a piece of shit who made her feel this way.

Then an idea hit me. “Hang on. Don’t move.” I held up my pointer finger as I rushed toward the front door.

“Wait, where are you going?” she called after me, but I was a man on a mission.

I was pretty sure I made it across the lawn in record time, skidding past the front door to the kitchen to find a pen and a scrap piece of paper. My eyes scanned the countertops, landing on a spiral-bound notebook.

That’ll do.

I tore out a piece of paper and grabbed a pen then ran back to Caitlin’s place with my materials in hand.

“Are you going to explain what the hell you’re doing?” She crossed her arms over her chest as I caught my breath.

“You’ve been feeling like you’re not good enough, so I think you need to find yourself again. A sort of reinvention, you know? And I’m going to help you.”

One of her eyebrows lifted, but she nodded for me to continue.

“I’m going to make you a bucket list.”

She snorted out a laugh. “A bucket list? What are we, twelve?”