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“I met someone,” I told the heavens. “Someone special. Someone different.”
My heart leaped at the thought of him. But then his father’s words came back.
And I felt it.
Betrayal.
“I didn’t think,” I tried to say before tears stung my eyes once again. “I didn’t realize I could get hurt—like this.”
My heart had been broken in the most devastating way. My husband had died.
I had forgotten that your heart could break in all sorts of other ways.
Secrets.
Why had Macon never told me?
I looked back down at those names.
All thirteen of them.
Did he really think he was responsible for their deaths?
Did I?
I shook my head. No.
No matter what choice he had made that day, it didn’t hold him accountable for the lives etched on this memorial.
But it didn’t change the fact that he’d kept it from me.
That he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me.
He didn’t believe in us.
Had he been drowning in guilt since the moment he had seen me? Terrified I would run the minute I found out?
And you did,that voice in my head reminded me.
Just a week ago, I’d declared my love for him, swearing I saw him—the real him—and then at the first sign of trouble, I had left.
Oh God.
I bolted upright.
He’d been running for years, trying to keep himself sober.
He never wanted anyone to find out.
And his dad had just outed him in front of the whole town.
I had to go find him.
I had to go find him now.
* * *
I tried his cell, but he didn’t answer.
