I breathe out a laugh. “Sounds fair.” I lean over and hug him before climbing out of the car and walking inside.

My mom is curled up on the couch, watching a movie, while my dad snores in an armchair. She startles when she sees me standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to her chest.

“My goodness, Evie. You startled me.” Her expression creases with concern as she stands and studies me. “You all right, sweetheart?”

I nod and walk over to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions that have seen me through other hard days. “Well, I will be.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Is there more wine?”

My mom smiles before heading into the kitchen and returning with a glass that matches the one on the coffee table.

I thank her and take a long sip, letting the tartness sink in before I swallow. “It’s good.”

“One we tried in Italy. We went to the vineyard and met the sommelier.”

“That’s nice.” I look down and swirl my glass, watching the liquid spin round and round for a few seconds. “I’m in love with Gray Phillips. It started when I first moved back, and it ended, well, I’m not sure when exactly. But it did. End.”

“Oh, Evie. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know—”

“That it was a long time coming?” I give her a wry smile before drinking more wine.

“I had a feeling you felt that way about him, yes.”

I exhale and relax into the couch. “Yeah, we were heartbreak waiting to happen, I guess. I just felt like being home tonight. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. This will always be your home, Evie.”

I smile at my mom. “Thanks.”

She pats my arm before turning back to the television. We watch the show and drink wine in silence. Familiarity—reminders of the past—can destroy you. Right now, it’s soothing.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The following morning is one of the best I’ve had in a while. I wake up to the smell of fresh bagels and frying eggs. My dad analyzes the coming week’s weather while my mom works on the daily crossword. I soak in their quiet contentment. I’ll find this. Someday. Somewhere. With someone.

After breakfast, I change into the one-piece from high school still sitting in my drawer and head into the backyard to swim laps. It’s hot, clear, and humid out. The cool water feels like heaven when I jump in. I float for a while, staring up at the blue sky and the fluffy clouds and the sunbeams filtering down before rolling onto my stomach and starting to exercise. My arms churn the clear water in rhythmic motions. My heart rate rises and lactic acid builds as I count each stroke. By the time I pull myself out of the pool, I feel tired and relaxed.