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I hesitated. The truth sat there, heavy and unformed. “I think I don’t have a better idea,” I said finally.

He let out a breath. “Give it a chance.”

We stood there, the space between us filled with the kind of quiet that didn’t need to be fixed. The kind that only existed between people who knew the worst parts of you . . . and stayed anyway.

Twenty- Six

Cali

“It says California Walton, and it’s paid for,” the disgruntled teenager repeated, sounding like I was the one missing something. I hadn’t ordered lunch, let alone dessert, and only one person still insisted on calling me California.

“I’ll take it if you don’t want it,” Lacy said with a tilt of her head, trying to solve the problem.

“Okay. Thanks,” I said, handing the kid a tip. He held up his hands.

“No, ma’am. No way. I was told to refuse any tips, or I wouldn’t get the grant I was promised.” My eyes widened, and my mouth fell open before Lacy plucked the cupcakes from my hands and sent him on his way. The kid practically sprinted back to his car.

Lacy peeled back the box lid and took an appreciative sniff. “At least he’s got good taste.”

I shot her a look.

“In desserts,” she clarified.

“What is he doing?” I said to no one in particular. This had Lane Massey written all over it. Did he really think a box of cupcakes could erase everything he’d said?

“He’s a man,” Lacy said, as if that explained everything.

I’d filled her in during our downtime. I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t also friends with Lane. Maybe if I trusted her with my mess, she’d finally trust me with hers. There wasn’t any point in sending apology cupcakes. He’d already made himself painfully clear. No matter how good they smelled, they weren’t going to fix what he’d broken. Cupcakes weren’t rewriting history.

Twenty-Seven

Cali

Tugging my socks off, I tucked them into my sneakers and sank my tired feet into the cool water. Today was a disaster. Everyone and their brother in Kennedy seemed to have strep throat. We’d essentially become the clinic’s backup after they ran out of available appointments. Then, in the middle of everything, those stupid cupcakes arrived. It was a pack of four white chocolate–raspberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. Only he knew how much I loved those. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but tears pricked my eyes. His question haunted me. What happened to us? He shattered my heart. It felt like I’d tried to piece myself back together with Scotch tape, and then Brett happened. Whatever fragile hope I had of ever truly being loved seeped out of me. After watching my mother chase one failed relationship after another for decades, being alone seemed safer. No one who would steal the money you’d worked three jobs to save. No one to tell you what to say or how to feel. No one to hear your most private thoughts and dreams, only to decide you weren’t worth it.

Lane was my first everything.

What he didn’t know was that he’d been my only. I’d never gotten over him, even when I’d wanted to hate him with every muscle in my body. Anytime Brett had tried to take things further, I’d frozen. Looking back, maybe my subconscious had known I wasn’t safe. Maybe that’s why I’d never understood my mother. How did she keep handing pieces of herself away without feeling like she’d lost her soul? Maybe she had. Was it weird that I was envious of her ability to try again? We’d exchanged calls about twice a year before she died. She’d randomly remember I existed around my birthday and Christmas and call to say she’d put a gift in the mail. The gifts never quite made it. “That damn postal service,” she’d always say, but I knew she was just trying to ease the guilt. The difference between us was that I couldn’t do this repeatedly. Brett had been my attempt to move on. Instead, he gave me the best thing in my life—Jace—and broke me in ways Scotch tape couldn’t fix.

“Care if I join you?” I spun to see Lane stepping onto the pier. His old truck was parked not too far away. I hadn’t heard a thing.

I was too tired to storm off, even if everything inside of me wanted to.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I answered, but my words weren’t as firm as I’d wanted them to be. I was done trying to be civil. He hesitated and ran a hand through his hair. This used to be our place, and it didn’t feel right being here together now that we had nothing left of us.

“Okay, I’ll leave. I just wanted to stop and tell you how sorry I was.” He swallowed, and instantly my nose burned from held-back tears. I turned back toward the pond before he could see what his voice undid inside me. “I’ve thought about what you said all night. I can’t figure out what I did that made you believe I didn’t want you. You don’t owe me an explanation, but I just don’t understand, Cali. I don’t know what I could have done to hurt you back then because every future I ever saw included you. Every. Single. One.” His voice was raw, and I held my breath against the sob that was clawing its way up my throat. I caught the nervous twitch of his fingers in my peripheral vision, but all I could feel was that old wound tearing open again.

Twenty-Eight

Cali

Fifteen years ago

My mom remembered my seventeenth birthday this morning—two days late. Three months ago, she’d been in Tulsa with husband number seven. I think his name was Gelbert. Gilbert? Something like that. I’d stopped bothering to learn their names because between each husband, there were about half a dozen boyfriends and fiancés who never quite made the cut to become a husband. Lucky them. They were all the same: two people using each other until the lies stopped working. She’d adopt their hobby, and before long, she’d know enough about golf, archery, or wine to convince herself she loved it too. But as soon as their money ran dry, she’d fall out of love with them and find another hobby and another man to fall in love with. The cycle never changed. She didn’t get me a gift, but I knew not to expect one. The greatest gift she’d ever given me was dropping me off on my eleventh birthday with my grandparents. Sometimes I’d wonder how two people as hardworking and kind as my grandparents could create someone like her. Then I’d wonder about me. I couldn’t solve that one because I didn’t really even know the other half of me. Maybe the parts of me worth keeping came from my father, but after meeting him, I highly doubted it. I kicked a loose rock with the toe of my shoe as I made my way across the high school parking lot.

“Oww.” A whimper stopped me. I spun toward the sound. The new kid was dragging a little girl toward a car by her arm. Her feet dug into the pavement as she twisted around, searching for help. Her bright blue eyes widened and locked onto mine. I dropped my backpack and ran toward them. I barely knew him, but he had tried to flirt with me a few times, and Lane had made it abundantly clear I was taken.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I yelled as I got closer. The boy twisted toward me and immediately wiped the scowl from his face, replacing it with something that almost looked friendly.