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Everleigh scoffs at my subject change. “I wouldn’t call it dating per se…”

“Alright, who’re ya banging then?” I tease, sucking down the rest of my margarita.

“Well…there’s only one guy at the moment. I don’t double dick.”

I nearly choke. “Everleigh!”

“What? I’m just sayin’. One dick at a time. I mean,usually.”

We burst out laughing, the alcohol clearly taking over. At this rate, I’ll get nothing done at the house tonight, but it was totally worth it to spend time with her.

CHAPTERFOUR

NOAH

After settling back at home,I spent Sunday making a list of everything I needed to get done before my first day of work at the gym on Tuesday.

I eat breakfast with my dad, then we head to my truck that I’ve named Violet after the character in theWilly Wonka and the Chocolate Factorymovie. When the remake came out, Katie and I watched it together for twenty-four hours straight. I haven’t watched TV in a long time, but I can still remember the lines word for word.

As he drives me to the DMV to renew my license, I look over and see Everleigh’s boutique. It’s not open this early, or I might’ve been tempted to go in and say hi. Surely, she doesn’t hate me. Well, no more than Katie anyway.

However, I need to focus on my to-do list: get a new license, buy some new clothes, get a cell phone, open a checking account, and meet with my parole officer. It’s surreal that I have to do these things. While I’m excited about my fresh start, I’m not looking forward to the inevitable stares and whispers. Tyler warned me about how he was treated when he returned, but I have a feeling it’ll be much worse for me.

My dad walks home instead of waiting for me. It’s not far, plus I know he likes the fresh air, so I don’t argue. I don’t blame him for not wanting to sit in here.

As I wait in line and glance around, I feel eyes boring into me. Strangers stare like they know my story and what I did. No one says a word directly to me, but they don’t have to. I know exactly what they’re thinking. Aunt Loretta and Uncle Elliot have made it clear they didn’t want me coming back here. They have every right to hate me for what happened but being behind bars wouldn’t change anything. Gabe’s death was an accident, and I did my time. Now I just want to live a simple life and right the wrongs that I can.

“How can I help you, Mr. Reid?” the clerk asks before she even takes my application. Of course she knows who I am, perks of small-town gossip.

“Hello, ma’am. My license expired, and I need to get a new one.” I hand her my application and study her as she types.

“You’ll need a quick eye test, and once you pass the online exam, you can get your picture taken.”

It takes over an hour to finish everything, but it’s all worth it when she hands over my new license.

“Thank you, ma’am. Have a good day.” I smile as I shove my wallet into my back pocket.

“Mm-hmm.” The corner of her lips turns into a scowl, and it’s obvious she hated being cordial to me.

Next, I go to the store for some work clothes and boots. Nothing fancy, just jeans and shirts that can get dirty while I paint or rip out carpet. I grab some nicer ones too, just in case.

After I finish shopping, I get a new cell phone because my dad generously put me on his plan. After all this time, it feels strange to have a phone with a nice camera and so many features. Things have really changed in a decade.

There’s only one more stop to make, but I decide to grab something to eat first. Belinda owns the deli, and I know she’ll be welcoming, so I stop in for a sandwich. I nearly inhale it as soon as it’s placed in front of me.

“How’s your day goin’ so far?” she asks as she takes my empty plate.

“Alright, I guess.” I shrug, not wanting to tell her how cold or downright rude people have been. Even the worker at the clothing store kept her eye on me like I was shoplifting or going to cause a scene.

Belinda pats my hand and smiles. “It’ll get easier. I remember when Tyler returned, and though you have different circumstances, the town eventually accepted him.”

“Guess we’ll see. One can only hope,” I say as I pull out my wallet.

“It’s on the house.” She shoos me away.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want any special treatment. The last thing I need is rumors spreading that I’m getting handouts or taking shortcuts.”

She frowns but doesn’t argue. I pay the bill and leave a tip. Once I say goodbye, I walk outside and stare at the bank across the street. I’ve been putting it off all day, but there’s nothing left for me to do other than open an account and deposit some of the money I had before I went to prison.

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