Page 99 of Meet Me in Ivy Falls

From the second I’d seen her laid out like a corpse on that bathroom floor, I’d moved back into my guardian role. Shoving everything, and everyone, aside – including Torran.

Her words in the hospital rang through my head. I did turn away from people, refuse to let them help me. It was a pattern woven into the fabric of my existence like the scars etched into my chest and arms.

My mind was empty.

Hell, my chest was a cavern. Like someone had hacked inside me and removed my heart with a dull spoon, ripping and tearing until nothing was left. Without Torran, my future was nothing but a long, barren road. She’d become a steady force in my life. Each moment we’d spent together reminded me that coming back to face my past was the right thing to do. She made me a better person. A better man. But in my fear, my stupidity, I’d thrown it all away.

A woman with long brown hair and scrubs covered in the Wonder Woman logo stepped out onto the porch. ‘Are you Miss Townsend?’

Piper nodded and it struck me again how young and fragile she looked.

‘We need you to come inside to check in. There will be a group session right after.’

Piper moved to her feet and gave me a tight hug. ‘Thank you for never giving up on me. I don’t think I’d be standing here, living and breathing, if it wasn’t for you. But it’s time for you to get the hell out of here and work on your own life,’ she said firmly. ‘Tell Torran the truth. Apologize. Get down on your knees and beg for a third chance. Don’t give up until she forgives your stupid ass and admits she feels the same way.’ She patted my cheek. ‘I love you, Beck, but don’t come back until she’s with you.’

I wanted to reach for her again, protect her, but this time I stayed in place, feet planted on the porch as she clutched her suitcase and disappeared inside.

Chapter Forty-Five

TORRAN

Make It Right, Torran.

The musty scent of dust and my father’s pungent aftershave hit me when the door to his office swung open. As a child, I was afraid of his dark-paneled space. The way he sat like an overlord in his stuffed high-back chair, telling people whether he’d lend them money to send their kids to college, open a business. Even then I understood the incredible power he wielded over the people of Ivy Falls.

His phone was pressed to his ear as usual. With a thick finger, he pointed to the wooden chair in front of his desk. He grumbled a few more words into the phone and hung up.

‘Do you want anything to drink? A bottle of water?’ he asked, like I was a customer.

‘No. I’m okay.’

His mouth softened and he punched a finger onto his phone intercom. ‘Isabel, please let everyone know I don’t want to be disturbed for the next hour.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ I insisted.

He waved me off. ‘Since you’ve been back in Ivy Falls, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid both me and this office. Now that I’ve got you here, I want this time to be uninterrupted.’

An uncomfortable beat of silence passed. I smoothed out the wrinkles in my overalls. ‘Thanks for your help the night of Fourth of July. Manny and I appreciated you handling the police, and, well, all the chaos.’

‘Of course. You know that’s all I want to do. Help.’ He sat back in his chair with his hands tented in front of him. ‘Since that night, quite a few people have reached out to me on your behalf.’ A hint of a smile ticked at his lips. ‘Several of them have sat in that same chair and expressed how worried they are about you and the future of your business. How this town is better because of all your hard work.’

‘Yeah, Tessa mentioned that to me.’

The creases next to his eyes were deep caverns, and the skin around his once iron-tight jaw now sagged. It’d been a long time since I’d really looked at him.

Manny’s comments about accepting how people grieved hit me like I’d struck a brick wall.

‘I was at the cemetery yesterday. Tessa showed up and told me the truth about the day Mom died.’

He pushed back from the desk and rose to his full six-foot-two height. He might have been gaining in age, but he still carried himself with a strength I had to admit I admired.

‘I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you, but our conversations always turn into arguments. Your mother would have been disappointed about that.’

‘Our relationship has always been strained,’ I said quietly.

‘Not always. When you were little, you used to love coming here. The tellers would let you count out the checking and deposit slips. They’d give you small bits of change to sort out: pennies, nickels, dimes. It wasn’t until I started travelling more that our relationship changed.’

‘Maybe that’s because you were never home. Missing all my track meets and Tessa’s dance recitals.’