"Thank you," I manage. "For everything."
I slide into the driver's seat and turn the key. The engine hums to life.
The last time I left my home, I didn't say goodbye to anyone.
It was four in the morning, nearly ten years ago. I was eighteen and three months pregnant. My car was packed with everything I could fit. I'd left a note on my bed that said nothing real. Just that I needed to figure things out, that I'd call soon.
I drove past the house one last time. The lights were off. Dad was sleeping, completely unaware that I'd slept with his best friend. That I was pregnant with his best friend's baby.
I couldn't tell him. The betrayal would destroy him. Jack was like a brother to him. They'd known each other for twenty years.
So I ran. I protected Dad from the truth by disappearing with it.
I told myself I was doing the right thing. That some secrets are too heavy to share. That leaving quietly was kinder than staying and watching everything fall apart.
I've spent a decade convincing myself I made the right choice.
Now, watching my sons on Sarah's porch, I'm not so sure anymore.
In the rearview mirror, I see the twins standing there. Sarah has both arms wrapped around them, holding them close. Rory lifts his hand in a small wave, trying so hard to be brave. Corey presses his face against Sarah's side. His small shoulders shake. I watch the exact moment he starts to cry.
I pull away slowly, my foot barely touching the gas. They get smaller in the mirror. Smaller still. Then I turn the corner and they're gone.
My vision blurs. I blink hard, but the tears come anyway.
Now I'm running again. Only this time, I'm running toward the mess I left behind.
2
MIA
The motel room smells like stale cigarette smoke and industrial cleaner. I drop my overnight bag on the faded floral bedspread and stare at the water-stained ceiling. This is it. The last stop before I face everything I've been running from for ten years.
Pinewood Lodge sits just outside Riverside's town limits. Close enough that I could drive there in fifteen minutes. Far enough that I can pretend I'm not really back yet.
I pull out my phone and scroll through the photos Sarah sent—Rory and Corey grinning at the camera, chocolate ice cream smeared across their faces. My chest tightens with missing them already, but I know this is necessary. I need to face my parents alone first.
I toss the phone onto the nightstand and pace the narrow room. The walls feel like they're closing in. What am I doing?
My reflection in the mirror shows a woman who looks older than twenty-seven. There are dark circles under my blue eyes. My hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. I look exhausted and terrified, which is exactly how I feel.
I need a drink.
The thought surprises me. I'm not a drinker. I can't be, not with two nine-year-olds depending on me. But tonight, with the twins safe at Sarah's and my entire future hanging in the balance, the idea of numbing this anxiety sounds perfect.
There's a bar across the street. The Rusty Nail, according to the neon sign flickering in the window.
I change into jeans and a simple black top and cross the parking lot. Inside, the bar is exactly what I expected. Dark wood paneling. Dim lighting. A handful of patrons scattered around. The bartender nods at me as I slide onto a barstool.
"What can I get you?"
"Vodka tonic."
I'm halfway through the glass when someone sits down two stools away. I glance over out of habit.
He's attractive in an understated way. Dark hair slightly messy. Green eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses. Lean build in a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Our eyes meet for a second. He offers a small, polite smile before turning his attention to the bartender.