Page 162 of Love Felt Like This

“Yeah, book a flight,” I say.

Jimmy says he’ll text me details once it’s done, and we both hang up. I toss the phone from palm to palm, walking over and then crouching down in front of Ava.

“Hey, munchkin.”

“Hi, hi” is what I get back, making me chuckle as I run a hand across her bangs and kiss the bare forehead beneath.

I stand again. Greg, Nana, Rob, and Beverly watch me intently. Beverly’s back is pressed against the kitchen wall, steadying herself with flat hands. I want to grab one and pull it into mine, just like we did last night. I want to recreate perfection, but those moments—the ones with fumbling limbs over a quilted twin mattress—are a lone bright star in a crowd of night sky. My life is the infinite space around it, the one with paparazzi and a daughter I can’t protect no matter how hard I try.

I hold Beverly’s gaze, trailing over her green eyes, parsing through her expression, which slowly pinches tighter. She’s more serious than I’ve ever seen her.

“Go,” she says. “You need to.”

“Go!” Ava calls up from the rug, kicking her feet and laughing like this is a game.

Nana’s head shoots up. Greg shakes his head.

“You don’t have to leave,” he says.

“Beverly’s right. I do,” I respond.

She bites the inside of her cheek, as if hating that I agreed. But we both know it’s the right call. Just like Jimmy, she understands.

Finally, Nana claps her palms together. “Do what you have to do. We’ll handle it here.”

“We’ll find out who did this,” Greg says.

Nana grins. “And what exactly are you going to do when you find out, Gregory?”

Greg shrugs. “I won’t make them strawberry cake, I’ll tell you that.”

I should tell them it was Taylor who sent in pictures. Pictures she collected over the past few weeks, likely waiting until the best moment to share. But Elk Grove is a peaceful snow globe that doesn’t need another shake-up. I’ve done enough damage already.

I glance at Beverly, but she’s too focused on her feet. I wish nobody else was here but me and her, sorting through this news together. I wish we were still at the diner, eating scrambled eggs and toast and drinking coffee. I wish I was giving her a third cup, joking about Birds ideas and lyrics.

But that isn’t my life.

I run a hand over my beard. “I should have told you all about Ava. I’m sorry.”

Nana scoffs. “Wouldn’t have changed a thing if we knew. We still adore her. She’d get pancakes either way.”

I still feel a tension in the air, permeating like the fog over the mountain, shrouding the past few weeks we had. Maybe it’s the lie still hanging over us, or maybe it’s that we all know Ava won’t have diner pancakes after today.

Rob clears his throat and crosses his arms. He opens his mouth, shuts it, then finally says, “You didn’t do this. Beau did.”

Beverly jerks her head to him. Rob looks at the ground, uneasily shifting from foot to foot and sighing.

“He confirmed it,” Rob continues. “And he didn’t have to.”

It’s quiet for another moment until Greg asks, “How did he even know?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Beverly says. Her jaw is tight. Her eyes determined as she finally meets mine. “I swear.”

Like a moth drawn to a flame, I pace over and take her hand. I don’t care that we haven’t officially defined whatever we are.

“Okay,” I say, adding, “I know.” I believe you. I trust you. She has to know that.

My phone buzzes in my opposite palm. I flip it over. It’s flight information from Jimmy, and the departure time stabs right through my chest.