I looked out at the ocean, dark gray waters rippling and swirling. “At first, I was still so angry with him. He’d betrayed me. Spit on the bond we had. Left me in my worst moment. But when I realized what was happening, how much he’d been hurting, what my parents had done…I didn’t have any anger left.”

“I still can’t believe they pulled that crap,” Kenna muttered.

Caelyn made a hushing sound at Kenna, sensing that I needed to get this all out now. “When I didn’t have my anger to hold on to, all I had left was my longing. That and my guilt.”

“Oh, Bell.” Caelyn wrapped an arm around me, squeezing in close.

“I thought maybe he’d turned into a fancy asshole in LA. But at the end of our shift, I saw him wrapping up the extra food to send home with Darlene. He knows she has two kids at home, and her ex is so far behind on child support it’s ridiculous. He’s kind to all the staff, he’s working his ass off, and dammit, I missed him. I missed talking to him about the important stuff and about the things that don’t matter. I thought I might’ve blown that out of proportion in my mind, romanticized it or something, but I didn’t.”

Caelyn gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Then you should go for it, honey. You know better than anyone that you only get this one precious life.”

Kenna’s gaze snapped to Caelyn. “No, she shouldn’t. That man has done nothing but hurt her and leave her when she needed him the most. He doesn’t deserve her.”

I swallowed back the invisible razor blades that seemed to be crawling up my throat. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

It was Kenna who answered. “Because she feels like she’d be betraying Violet.”

Caelyn’s head snapped back in my direction. “Is that what you really think?”

I gave a tiny nod. It was so much more complicated than that, though. There were so many layers of guilt and grief and anger and longing. And they all mixed together in an ugly stew that meant there would never be a happy ending for Ford and me. Not in the way I truly wanted anyway. I would have to settle for having him as my friend. I just had to make myself believe the lie that friendship would be enough.

20

FORD

“Ford Hardy.”

I looked up from my phone at the crisp tone, shoving it into my back pocket. I bit back a groan. “Mrs. Hotchkiss. Lacey.”

“Hey, Ford.” Lacey blinked up at me as if the fluttering of her eyelashes was sending some sort of Morse code.

Mrs. Hotchkiss’s gaze narrowed on me. “I heard you were back.”

“That I am.”

“You should’ve stayed gone.”