“No method. Success is the way you outline it. Take Freddy, for example. He was a world-class bodyguard to royalty, and now he’s a cellar rat at a winery.”

“And loving it!” the Kentonian yells.

Guess they’re listening in spite of everything. I roll my eyes. Jordan shakes his head and grins, waits till the pool sticks begin shifting once more and Landon and Frederick begin arguing about some rule or different earlier than he continues talking. “I do know for a undeniable fact that Freddy moved right here for Chloe and doesn’t remorse it. However he additionally left the service as a result of he needed to do one thing completely different. He was clinging to another person’s definition of success for a very long time and finally determined that it was his life to dwell.”

My lungs contract. How properly I can relate.

Jordan stands and claps me on the shoulder. “And as a lot as I do know you need to honor your dad, he’s not right here anymore. That is your life, dude. You’ve bought to be the one to resolve what sort of success you care about.”

Identical to in these romance motion pictures Mother and Mare made me watch with them, a collection of clips—a montage, if you’ll—race via my head.

A late night time at residence, feeding my sister and Lucy new recipes. Me in my truck, flipping sandwiches, Lucy expectantly at my elbow, ready to strive one thing new.

Sitting on a porch swing, stargazing and having fun with quiet moments with probably the most stunning lady on the earth.

Kissing Lucy on the cliffside. Kissing Lucy in my kitchen. In search of perfection with Lucy on the seashore.

It’s all out of the blue so clear, like a fog lifting from my eyes. If I used to be to die in a automobile accident tonight like my dad and mom did, these are the clips of my life that might flash earlier than my eyes.

And I might don’t have any regrets.

Turning, I fireplace my final dart on the board. It hits the lifeless middle.

I do know what I’ve to do.

twenty-eight

LUCY

Blake is leaving in three days.

I strive my finest not to consider it, to stuff away the unfavorable feelings, however I can’t, it doesn’t matter what I’m doing.

Once I’m speaking to Winona on the telephone, displaying off the brand new marketing strategy and listening to that she loves it—I’m enthusiastic about Blake.

Once I’m serving to Chloe with last-minute competition particulars as a result of she’s bought quite a bit on her plate and I’ve out of the blue bought plenty of free time—I’m enthusiastic about Blake.

Even now, after I’m taking part in poker with my household on July third, and everybody else is laughing and having a grand outdated time, and Uncle Burt and April and Scarlett are having a root beer chugging contest, and Aunt Bea is serving up an entire heap of spaghetti—I could also be smiling on the skin, however on the within, I’m depressing.

As a result of, you guessed it, I’m enthusiastic about Blake.

The entire kitchen reverberates with noise, however I’m inspecting my Weight loss plan Coke, drawing my thumb via the condensation, making an attempt to really feel one thing aside from this distress.

However I do know it’s higher this manner. May not really feel that method within the second, however higher this transient cavernous ache in my chest now than the gradual loss of life of my hope over time.

It’s identical to when Mama left. Mentioned she’d be again in just a few months, and look. 13 years later, the place is she?

Not. Right here.

The identical factor would have occurred with Blake. He may not suppose it’s the identical, however the similarities line up fairly darn properly. I’m simply permitting the inevitable to occur—solely a lot earlier than it could have in any other case.

As I look round this room at a few of the individuals I really like finest, those that have claimed me despite the fact that I didn’t must be theirs to say, the tears properly up and I can’t maintain them in any longer. Grabbing my telephone, I sprint from the room whereas everyone seems to be occupied, heading up the steps to what was once my bed room. As soon as upon a time, it was my cousin Jeff’s, however then it turned mine. Now, it’s Scarlett’s, and I hope she gained’t thoughts me being in right here.

The furnishings is all the identical, however the decor has modified. Now not are the partitions lined with posters of Tim McGraw and the Zac Brown Band, however rainbows and unicorns applicable for a seven-year-old woman. My chest loosens a bit as I let my tears fall and roam the room, my fingers slipping over the sting of the white wood dresser, the bookcase painted purple. April has, not surprisingly, stuffed the cabinets fuller than they ever had been after I lived in right here, and my index finger skims the spines, stopping on a big guide of fairytales.

I type of need to cover it away so Scarlett doesn’t develop up believing that fairytales are actual life.

One way or the other, I forgot.

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