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Prowling to her door, I banged on it.

The timber entryway swung open, and Ana’s mum Théa appeared on the front porch, a laundry basket propped against her hip.

Her face was wary, guarded.

‘Théa? Didn’t expect you here,’ I muttered. ‘I thought Christine was working today?’

‘I’m stepping in for Christine, who’s on her day off.’

‘Good to see you.’

Her expression softened a little.

‘And you, mon fils.’

‘I’m here for Ana. Where is she?’

‘You after a fight, son?’ Théa murmured. ‘If you’re here to yell at Ana, turn around. I love you very much Deacon but tu es un imbécile. You’re acting like a fool because you’ve got the wrong idea about what went down with Max, and you’re being stubborn about it. I’d appreciate it if you gave Ana a chance to say her piece.’

I deserved her scathing put-down, so I held my hands up in surrender.

‘I’ve no beef with her, never should have had any. I’m shattered because yes, I’ve been a fucking idiot,’ I confessed. ‘I know the truth, and that she didn’t cross the line we set together. I need to ask her forgiveness. Where is she, Théa? Please?’

Her eyes narrowed on me, then she sighed.

‘She’s out on a run at the Richland Creek Greenway. I’m about to pick Raff up from school, so I’d love it for you two to come back having sorted yourselves out.’

I knew the spot she spoke of.

It tucked into her neighborhood, winding past McCabe Golf Course and running straight alongside the rushing water of the stream.

‘Grateful. I need to make things right.’

I waved my thanks to Théa, got back in my ride, and roared away, my V8 engine growling as I ate up the asphalt.

I arrived at the park in record time, slammed on my brakes, and leaped from the truck near the trailhead.

Locking up, I jogged down the walking path, scanning the walkways and trees.

After a good ten minutes, I spotted a familiar silhouette.

Ana stood on a timber footbridge, her slender frame clad in navy-and-silver running gear.

She had one propped on the wooden railing, stretching her hamstrings as the creek churned beneath her.

The sound of my footsteps made her turn.

Her eyes widened, and the moment our gazes locked, she jolted, brought her foot down onto the ground, and braced herself.

I cursed under my breath.

She was expecting more fury from me.

I gave her none of it.

Instead, I raised my palms to her, regret engulfing me.

‘Massimo came by the studio; he showed me the security footage.’