“Because I don’t see it. Not now. Not when I’m such a mess.” Her hands wring together as her shoulders fold inward like a wilting flower in need of water and a day of sunshine.

“It’s not your hair or your dress. It’s the way you rub your lips together to hide your smile—and the way your teeth break through because you have to smile. It’s the little lines that form at the corners of your eyes when you do smile. It’s not that your eyes are blue like the sky, it’s that when you look at me like you are right now … it’s a truly beautiful day. And it’s pretty fucking incredible to be the recipient of that look, that glimmer in your eyes.”

Her lower lip quivers just before she turns her back to me. I give her a minute because I’m not done stripping her down. But … that’s good for today.

“I don’t care what you say,” she says after clearing her throat. “I’m getting a sandwich with tons of meat and cheese, no veggies, extra mayo, and a bag of cheesy ranch and bacon flavored chips.”

Stepping off the curb, I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her back to my chest and kissing the top of her head while she takes another moment to wipe the emotion from her eyes. “Okay, Ave.” I chuckle.

“Okay.” She draws in a shaky breath, pushing some confidence into her spine. “I’m glad we got that straight.”

“Me too.” I take her hand and guide her toward the restaurant.

We grab lunch and perch on the truck’s tailgate to eat it in the scorching sun. Terrible idea. Swarley stretches his legs before begging to get back in the shade of the backseat.

“My dad cheated on my mom.” I stare at the busy road beyond the parking lot, legs swinging from the tailgate while eating my hummus wrap. “He asked for forgiveness. She gave it to him. He did it again—told her it was because she’d let herself go. She got pregnant when I was eight and lost the baby before it was born. I just remember her being sad all the time. She fed her grief with food. He fed his with other women. The things he said to her … the way he made her feel … I hated him. Now there’s not a word strong enough to describe how much I despise him.”

Avery stills her swaying legs and drops the last third of her sandwich into the paper bag. “I should have just gotten into the truck,” she whispers.