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“It’s yours. It was yours all along.”
My feet don’t move from the spot, and I struggle to swallow around the lump in my throat. I look back at him and ask, “Why? Why now?”
“Besides stating the obvious, that I was wrong, someone did me a favor when they didn’t have to.”
“What did they do?”
He reaches forward, holding it in his hand. When I take the box, he says, “He helped me get a solid job with real growth potential.”
“Growth potential,” I say, a small smile coming along. Those are two words I never thought would come from Dane Brody’s mouth. It’s a nice change to hear him talk about a future. “Sounds very professional.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets again. “I was an asshole to him. He didn’t have to help me, especially after the shit I pulled, but he did and asked for nothing in return.”
I hold up the box. “Then how does this factor in?”
He leaves me riddling through what he’s shared, searching for the answer. Shame covers him as he looks down between us. “It felt right to get it back to you. I’ve wanted to since that night. I just didn’t know how anymore.”
“Like you just did.” I hold it up.
“Guess it was simple all along. You know, Lark, people love to kick you when you’re down. I couldn’t do him a favor, but I could do right by you.”
I’m not sure what to make of the conversation. My feelings are a mixture of emotions. Maybe like Harbor liked to do, I need to process this meeting and see where I land on the other side of it. “Thanks for giving it back.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turns to leave, but I ask, “How’s the baby?”
Shrugging, he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You’d have to ask Steve. Turns out, he became a father at the end of May.”
I have to force my jaw to close. “Oh.” I don’t know what else to say.He really did choose wrong.He knows how I feel about Mia, how I always felt she was using him. He doesn’t need me to say more when he’s been through so much already.
He says, “Yeah. Pretty much sums it up.” For the first time since he got here, his smile is genuine, and his shoulders appear lighter. It almost feels like old times. “I hear you’re heading to Yale?”
“I am.”
“Give ’em hell.”
I grin, and then a little laugh comes out. “I always do.” And then we exchange a shared look, one that says goodbye without giving it air.
He goes to his truck while I go to my dad’s. Climbing into the cab, my dad raises an eyebrow as he eyes the box. “Is that what I think it is?”
I open the box and smile. Running my finger over the delicate diamonds, I turn it over to see that it looks as good as it ever did, and reply, “Yeah.”
“Glad you got it back.”
“Still no questions to ask?”
He starts the truck and then looks at me. “I promised I wouldn’t. I’m good now that you have the brooch again.”
“Me too.” Dane’s words come back to me.“He didn’t have to help me, especially after the shit I pulled.”Unfastening my seat belt, I say, “Stop the truck.” I jump down to the street again, run to Dane’s truck, and bang on the window.
He rolls it down. “What is it?”
“Was it Harbor? You said someone helped even after what you pulled. That sounds like Harbor.” He doesn’t blink. I nod, already knowing. I don’t know why it matters, but this is the first tie to him I’ve had since he left.
Dane says, “He asked me not to tell anyone.”
“I understand. I’m glad life is good.”
