I pause as I’m about to hop over the fence, the snow knee deep and soaking through my jeans as I have a revelation that slams me square in the chest. From the day Micha begged me to climb over the fence for the very first time, we’ve been inseparable, except for the time I ran away to college. He took care of me. He loved me. He showed me what love was. And I think deep down, even though I couldn’t admit it a couple of years ago, I secretly hoped that he’d be in my life forever—that I’d end up with him. That I’d still be hopping over the fence to see him when I was twenty years old with his ring on my finger. That fifty years down the road I’d still be with him, sitting on a porch swing, drinking lemonade or whatever it is old couples do.

It makes my heart thump in excitement and terror because I think it’s time to let go of the dark things that haunt my past, let things go that I might not want to, so I can move forward into a future with a simple fence, juice box, and a toy car.

Chapter 14

Micha

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” I ask Ella, staring down at her mother’s journal on my lap.

She nods as she digs through her bag on the floor. “Yeah, I only want to know if you find anything happy.” She peers up at me, wearing only a red-and-black bra and matching panties. “If you don’t, then I don’t need to read it. But if you do, then I want to read it just so I can hear about the happy part of her I never got to see.”

I massage the back of my neck, nervous about reading something so private. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.” She straightens her legs and stands up with a black dress in her hand. “But only if you feel comfortable doing it.”

I want to say that I’m not but there’s no way that I’m going to. Not after she came into the house yesterday after talking to her dad and announced that she was ready to move forward without finishing the journal because she wanted to let go of the past. I’m not even sure where the declaration came from, but there’s no way I’m going to do anything that will ruin it. “I’m down for a little reading, I guess.” I move the journal off my lap and onto the bed, then lean forward and grab the edge of the short, tight dress she’s about to put on. “Just as long as you tell me where the hell you’re going wearing this?”

“With Lila out to dinner,” she answers. “Why? What’s wrong with the dress?”