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“Mom used to have these little frog trinkets all over the house, especially in the kitchen. My favorite was a salt-and-pepper shaker of two frogs on a lily pad. I still have them. They’re in the pantry.”

His words trailed off as he stared at the ocean of plush frogs. I had to restrain myself from kicking a few out of the way, but the damage was already done.

“My mom committed suicide.”

Jesus Christ.

“Hart—”

“My mom was supposed to be a photographer, but her dreams went off the rails when she met my father. She and her friends were taking a road trip from Connecticut to California, where they were supposed to attend college. As the story goes, they stopped in town to grab burgers and shakes when she caught my dad’s eye.

“Long story short, he convinced her after one night that he could give her the world. Next thing you know, she cashed her tuition check and told her friends to leave without her.”

“They left her there? They didn’t call her parents or something?” I asked in stunned disbelief.

“They had to leave town to make it to orientation, but they did call my grandparents and told them everything. My grandparents—never met them, by the way—got ahold of her and gave her two options: go to school or come back home. And if she didn’t, she’d be disowned.

“She chose ‘love’ instead, and that was the last conversation she had with her parents. My grandmother’s last words to her were, ‘That man will be your downfall.’ And she was right. Because what my mother didn’t know was that my father was never a one-woman type of man.”

“That’s fucked up,” I murmured, closing the distance between us like I was on autopilot.

“Yeah, it was. I don’t know how he managed juggling women, work, and being home, but dammit, he did. Eventually, it came out that he had a secret family on the other side of town.”

I held back my gasp because, from what I remembered, Hart’s hometown wasn’t huge. The man didn’t even have the decency to have a secret family a few towns over.

I listened intently as Hart continued sharing the sordid details of his childhood, silently observing how his body became rigid at some points and how his jaw flexed under tension.

“That night after church, I knew something was off with her. She was quiet… too quiet, and she kept staring at me. I tried to make her smile. I thought telling her knock-knock jokes would make her laugh, and the whole time she was battling demons in her head that were a little louder.

“She told me it was time for bed. We went through my nightly routine—bath, brush teeth, and prayer. That night, the prayer lasted longer than normal, and her goodnight hug nearly crushed me to death. I’d barely fallen asleep when I heard the gun go off.”

My tears fell freely when Hart looked away, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his emotions again and again.

“I found her,” he confessed, voice stricken with pain and grief.

“Hart… I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have ever witnessed that.”

“I shouldn’t, but I did. Then the bastard had the nerve to be bawling at her funeral while everyone looked at him like he was a piece of shit. Apparently, there was a note. I never saw it, but word had gotten out why she did it. But I’m sure even without the note that people could put two and two together, especially with how he paraded his family through the church like a man with no fucking shame.”

Hart reached for the bottle, but I stuck my hand out to block him. He locked eyes with me, testing my resolve, and he figured pretty quickly that I wasn’t budging.

“Talk to me, Sweet Hart,” I said, encouragingly. With a sigh, he wrapped an arm around me and dragged me down to the couch until I was lying on top of him.

“I don’t think she ended her life because my dad was a serial cheater—that wasn’t new. I think she was mourning the life she never had—the dreams she’d given up for something she mistook for love. She was so young and never gave herself a chance to live. I struggle with forgiveness. Some days, I can’t forgive her; other days, I can’t forgive him, but that’s my story.”

“I have a question and feel free not to answer.”

“I’ll answer,” he promised softly.

“It seems you have a strong relationship with your brothers. How did you and your brothers become so close?”

Hart smoothed his hands up and down my back, dragging my shirt up with each pass.

“Ms. Kelly. I didn’t want anything to do with Thorne and Rat, but she sat me down and told me that they were innocent in all of this and that family was everything. I wasn’t sold, but she started bringing me around my brothers for playdates. She’d take me and D to go get ice cream with them or see a movie. I was aloof and didn’t really give them a chance until my 10th birthday. It was my first birthday without my mom, and I wasn’t in the mood for celebrating. My dad- I guess I should say our dad- dropped them off and said he’d swing back in a few hours to pick them up. Hawthorne… Hawthorne.” Hart’s chest rumbled from laughter. “I’ll never forget it. Hawthorne yelled, ‘Don’t come back, you buzzard!’ He picked up a rock and threw it at Dad’s truck as he attempted to peel out of there.”

“Damn. What set him off?”

“Sam Myers broke their mother’s heart, too.”