Page 117

Taylor continues chattering, leading us up to the front doors. “Huck is looking forward to surfing, too, but maybe I'll tan my ass on the sand⁠—”

“Where was he buried?” I ask, cutting off his voice.

Both he and Christian screech to a halt. “Huh?”

I take a deep breath and clutch the wedding band again, steeling myself for the answer. “Logan. Where did his parents bury him? Was the funeral… nice?”

As if such a tragedy could be considered nice.

Taylor's smile slips as he flounders for an answer. The silence stretches long enough that my heart starts to pound

Christian glances at Tay sidelong before meeting my gaze. “There wasn’t a funeral.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “What?”

“He's not… buried, Salem.”

“What are you talking about? Was he cremated?” My voice cracks on that last word.

Everything that Logan had been… reduced to ashes. His smile, those honey-gold eyes, the delicate way he used to hold me in his sleep. That irritatingly hilarious laugh. All nothing but dust.

My ears start to ring, knees wobbling as the ground shifts beneath me. Emotion clogs my throat, and I try to speak around it, but my words are eaten up by the chasm in my chest stretching wider. Christian says something, but I can't comprehend it. My mind fills with images of Logan alone on a slab, alone being fed into the fire—alone because I fucking left him behind.

Just as Taylor drops my bags and reaches for me, a small hand grabs hold of my own. All the chaos vanishes the moment I look down into a pair of shining brown eyes and a gap-toothed smile.

“Auntie Sal,” Hannah says, dressed in a swimsuit. “You look like you're gonna throw up. Daddy says I should sit down when that happens.”

I drop to my knees and pull her in for a hug, knocking her little heart-shaped sunglasses askew. “I’m okay, bean,” I whisper, lying through my teeth.

She pats my back like she’s the adult. “It’s okay to cry. I cry sometimes, too.”

With a wet laugh, I let her go and plant a kiss on each of her round cheeks. Both her dads stand behind her, pinkies linked as they watch us.

“Jet lag is a bitch,” Xed mutters, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.

“That's what you get for not sleeping on the plane.” Matty scoops me up into a giant bear hug. “Christ, Salem, you had us all worried about you.”

I wheeze, never so happy to be crushed to death by this man in my entire life. “Sorry.”

“You better be,” Huckslee growls as he steps out of the hotel. “We filed a missing person's report and everything.”

Christian scoffs. “No, we didn’t.”

“We considered it. Seriously, the next time you disappear to the North Pole for four months and make my boyfriend sad, we're going to fight.”

“I wasn’t in the North Pole,” I mumble, shame curdling my gut.

Xed takes Hannah's hand before slinging an arm around my shoulders. “We didn’t know where you were, Salem. Maybe next time send a postcard or something, yeah?”

“Okay, I get it, Jesus. I understand. I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have left like that. I'm sorry for ghosting. Anything else I should apologize for?”

“I can think of something,” says a familiar voice over everyone else.

All of the air leaves my lungs in one strong exhale. Blood rushes to my ears, drowning out the ocean waves crashing in the distance. All of my senses zero in on that voice, the one I'd recognize anywhere. The one that still haunts my dreams at night.

It can’t be.

But then he steps out from behind Huck, and every part of me that’s been hollow for the past four months suddenly feels like it’s going to rupture.