I own my luxury apartment. I’ve got a slick BMW and a truck. I bought my mom a house. I still have more than I can spend living the way I do, which is focused on one thing—football.

“It’s not just the trust, Fitz. They’re offering me Captain’s Cottage if I participate in his campaign. That’s the whole plan with Camden. He’s a young congressman. He’s endorsed my father. We look good, the two of us, and we’ll look better helping campaign for my dad. That’s what matters.”

They look good?

I grind my teeth together to keep from snapping at Parker that there’s more to life than a house. But I know to Parker, it was Honey’s house. That’s what made it a home to her.

Parker goes silent for a minute and I try to come up with some sort of play to change this game. But she’s beaten me to it.

“That’s what they think,” Parker hums. “But I’d rather die than give them what they want.”

I shift on the couch. “How exactly do you get what you want without giving them everything they want?”

“I told them I couldn’t get married because I’ve been seeing someone.”

I freeze. “Are you?”

Please say no, please say no.

“Seeing someone? No.”

Relief whooshes through me so intensely I nearly collapse back on the couch.

“No, relationships,” Parker continues, “They aren’t really for me. I kind of come with a lot of baggage.”

Fuck. The way her voice softens with sadness has a chokehold on my heart.

“You?” I ask gently. “Or Clara?”

“I don’t really know anymore.”

There’s a gloom surrounding Parker. It makes me feel bad, of course, because I don’t want to see her sad. But I feel worse because I don’t know if she’s been without that cloud since Honey died. And after all these years, in the back of my mind even though I could never imagine where Parker went or where she was, at the very least, I hoped she was happy. Convincing myself of that made it easier to tolerate her absence.

As much as I’m elated to be here beside Parker, a deeper part of me is holding on to the dream version because the reality of Parker’s situation—going by a different name, living in this shit hole—absolutely bites.

“But I won’t,” Parker begins, pulling me from my thoughts. “I won’t let them just do what they want with me. Not again.”

My eyebrows creep together. “What do you mean not again?”

She tucks her chestnut brown hair behind her ear. “I know you say you’re not upset with me. I just want you to know I never wanted to go away. All those years ago, I mean. It wasn’t really my choice.”