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Paisley was the most beautiful girl in the world to me and I had her, but I couldn’t keep her.
“I miss you,” I whisper to the warm night air, looking away from the house as tears fill my eyes, “I should have never let you walk away. But I did and I won’t keep punishing you for doing what I told you to do. I miss you so much, Pais and I am so sorry I gave up on us.”
I go before someone can see me. As I look back in the rearview mirror, I swear I see a figure in the darkness, watching me go. I blink and it’s gone, so I know I made it up. Even if it was her, all these years later I know there is no way she is thinking about me the way I always think about her. No way has she wished I would climb that trellis once more and climb in beside her again.
All night I am plagued by dreams of a life we should have had—one we could have had—and I wake up with one thought on my mind.
Whether it ruins me or not—I need to see her again.
CHAPTER 3
Paisley
* * *
Coming home with my life in ruins is going better than I expected.
Being back home was the last place I wanted to be after all these years. I fought to be independent and find my own way out in the world. Since I failed at both, I indulged in having my mama to cry to and my daddy there to tell me it would all be ok again. They were there waiting for me when I got in, and they fed me my favorite meal—gran's chicken and noodles—and let me whine and shout and be a miserable little shit for a while.
Once I was done, they told me to pick myself up and dust myself off.
After a few days of getting settled back in and refusing to leave the house—for fear of running into my past—I am up bright and early, showered, dressed, and ready for the day with a smile fixed on my face. I am not happy, but I am good at pretending now, so I can fake it until I make it, I suppose. Today I am going into town regardless of the risk, because I need to see Hailee.
“I am fine,” she swore last night on the phone after we spent almost two hours catching up, “I am at home with my babies, my amazing husband is spoiling me rotten, and my best friend in the world is back home. What more could I want for?”
Her voice sounded weaker than usual, and I know her husband is not just spoiling her, but paying for the best treatment he can find, to be sure she stays well. She has beaten cancer twice before, but I hope her battles are over. Someone as kind and good as her, with two babies to look after, she doesn’t deserve the blows she keeps being dealt.
Today I am going to see her up in The Pillars, Harmony Hollow’s version of The Hamptons. Growing up in a ranching, farming town, there were levels of wealth like anywhere else. I had never known struggles or had to worry about if I could get into the college of my choice or if I could buy the expensive oils or charcoals I wanted.
But those that have houses up in The Pillars, they are a whole other level of wealth. Multi-millionaires and actual billionaires' own homes there. Lavish homes they stay in when they want a weekend away or to summer somewhere for a while. To think my best friend and her husband have a home there because that knucklehead can throw a ball and is so charming, they threw a dozen endorsements at him right out of college is nuts.
“Ma,” I shout through the house as I pull my backpack over my shoulder and grab my keys off the hook by the back door, “I am heading out for the day. Going to see Hailee and the babies.”
“Be careful. Tell her we love her,” her voice calls back, though I can’t tell where it is coming from. Probably the library where she is working on her next book. Daddy played with real estate when he was younger and that afforded us a good life—but it’s mama’s romance novels that pay the bills around here.
Guess she writes what she knows. My parents are the grossest display of happily ever after I have ever witnessed. The number of times I found them making out in her office or in the kitchen, or anywhere they could is frankly disturbing. My daddy would give her anything she asked, and she dotes on him and caters to him because she wants to, not because he demands it. I guess it made me wish for that kind of love when I went looking for romance myself.
Lot of good that did me. My one significant relationship with Bran was more about passion and patience than any real romance. He was good to me in the bedroom and made me feel things I didn’t know a body could feel. My memories of us together include a lot of nights of him sneaking into my bedroom and making me come until the morning. I don’t recall many flowers or flirty moments together outside the bedroom.
“Another reason to stop thinking about him,” I mutter to myself as I pull past the gate and head out towards The Pillars.
Wish I could listen to myself. All I can think of since I got back in town is him. Worried that I will run into him—worried that I won’t. My first night back, I could not sleep because the last time I had been in my bedroom, I was with him. I went for a walk to clear my head and for a moment, I swore I saw someone sitting outside our house, watching it. Wishful thinking, I suppose.
“No, no, not wishful thinking,” I correct myself with a curse, “you do not want Bran to come looking for you. You do not want to run into him and whoever he settled down with. You do not care where he is or what he is doing. Why am I talking to myself?”
Laughing at myself, I turn up the radio and head through town, taking streets that won’t get me anywhere near Bran North. Got through almost a week back home without seeing him—I'd like to keep that streak going.
It is a beautiful spring day, and I am back home even if I don’t want to be. I am going to go visit my best friend and her adorable babies and make the best of my time here. I am not going to think about what went wrong here five years ago or what when wrong for me last week.
No more dwelling on things I cannot change.
When I pull up to the Mitchell house, I gape and check the address three times. I knew Connor got paid, but holy baby Jesus, he gets paid, paid. Their house is what I would call an actual mansion with high stone walls, a massive gate, and sprawling grounds. I thought my parents’ place was fancy. I laugh as I park in the roundabout parking out front and see Hailee waiting for me, a baby at her hip and her toddler running up and down the stairs.
When he spots me, he runs full speed at me, and I scoop him up. Squishing him to me, I kiss all over his face and he laughs and squeezes my face in his chubby hands. I haven’t seen them in a few months, and it’s been forever since I've been here, and I miss all of them. I call often and we FaceTime all the time, so I still get to see my little godson growing up.
“Look at you, snotface,” I tease him, biting playfully at his nose, “look at how big you got on me! You going to take your daddy’s job on the field?” I ask him as I reach Hailee, reaching out to wrap her and her daughter up in a huge hug.
Hailee holds me tight, and tears burn my eyes. She is thinner than when I last saw her, but she still looks as fit as ever. In college, she was a world-class athlete, an Olympic gold medalist in the making, before she got sick. We always joke she is the real champion in the family, not her husband who with his team won a national championship.
