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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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That moment your life changes.<\/p>\n
That moment that changes your life.<\/p>\n
That moment you love someone more than you love yourself.<\/p>\n
That was the moment we gave our son up for adoption and the moment I was left bare. A wide-open space that would forever be empty.<\/p>\n
There are moments that define you as a person, moments that prove just how strong you are, moments you push yourself to keep going forward when all you really want to do is give up. It was in one of those moments when I reached out and found him waiting for me.<\/p>\n
When Shelby Calder left home fifteen years ago, she never planned on returning to the Alaskan town she left behind. But after the death of her grandfather and a bitter divorce, she hopes going home will be a fresh start for her and her ten-year-old son.<\/p>\n
Zach Watters has made a lot of mistakes in his life. But when he sees Shelby Calder, looking more beautiful than ever, standing outside her childhood home, he promises himself that letting her go won’t be a mistake he ever makes again.<\/p>\n
Some things never change and love is one of them.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
Chapter 1<\/p>\n
Shelby<\/p>\n
Shutting off my car, I stare at the two-story house I used to call home. It looks the same as it did when I left. The deep blue is still vibrant, even more so now against the backdrop of the gray sky behind it. The white porch is still welcoming, with flowers hanging from the banister.<\/p>\n
My grandmother and I would spend hours planting flowers in those boxes during the summer. When she passed away during my sophomore year of high school, I made sure to keep up the tradition in her memory. It looks like, in my absence over these last fifteen years, someone else had taken over the job.<\/p>\n
Looking at the bright blooms growing wild, hanging over the sides of the boxes, I wonder if Granddad hired someone to plant them for him when he left to live in Florida. He never mentioned that he cared about the flowers we planted. Honesty, I don\u2019t remember him mentioning them. Growing up, I didn\u2019t even think he noticed, but now, looking at the blooming buds that are artfully arranged, I know they meant something to him after all.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d Turning my head, I look at my son Hunter and force a smile as aching pain and regret slice through my chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry, honey. I spaced out. Do you want to unpack tonight, or do you want to wait until tomorrow, kiddo?\u201d<\/p>\n
Looking over his shoulder, he eyes the boxes and suitcases piled in the back then looks at me. I hate the sadness I see in his eyes. I hate I\u2019m the cause of his pain. I know he misses his father already, and I know that at ten years old, he doesn\u2019t understand why we\u2019re no longer together even if it\u2019s been over two years since we separated and divorced.<\/p>\n
\u201cTomorrow,\u201d he grumbles, and I feel that ache in my chest expand. He hates me for moving him across the country. Away from his friends, away from everything he knew. And I hate myself a little bit, too, for failing miserably at keeping my family together. I just hope this move will be a new start for us.<\/p>\n
\u201cTomorrow,\u201d I agree softly, unhooking my belt and opening the door.<\/p>\n
Rounding the hood of the van, Hunter has already made it to the porch and is waiting at the top of the stairs, with his eyes pointed over my shoulder. Stopping, I look behind me as rain soaks through my clothes. I can\u2019t believe how much the town has changed and grown. When I\u2019d left home, you could see the sound from the front porch of my grandparents\u2019 home. Now, the view is blocked by houses that have been built up side-by-side across the road. The street looks more like a New York City block, rather than a street in small-town Alaska.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it always raining?\u201d Hunter\u2019s voice breaks into my thoughts, and I turn back toward him and take the steps slowly, noticing they are rotting out in a few spots. Something I will have to fix soon.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot always, but this is a rainforest, so I guess the answer in some ways is yes,\u201d I tell him, when I make it up to the covered porch.<\/p>\n
His brows draw together over his blue eyes, making him look like his father, as he asks, \u201cThis is a rainforest?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is.\u201d I want so badly to reach out and run my finger down his cheek, but I keep my hand locked at my side. I don\u2019t know exactly when it happened, but some time ago, he stopped wanting my affection. Stopped being my little boy.<\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d he asks curiously, with wide eyes. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t look like a rainforest,\u201d he states, and he\u2019s right; it doesn\u2019t look like what you might imagine a rainforest would look like.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt doesn\u2019t look like one, but it is all the same.\u201d I smile, and his eyes move over my face then to the view, and his face loses the curiosity it held a moment ago.<\/p>\n
He turns, muttering, \u201cWhatever.\u201d<\/p>\n
Biting my lip, I take the key the lawyer mailed me out of the front pocket of my jeans, put it in the lock, and turn. The door opens with a loud creak and dust rises up from the floors. A loud alarm sounds, making us both jump. Running into the house, I look frantically for some kind of alarm system, finally finding the small white box off the door in the kitchen. Flipping the panel open, I stare at the numbers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the code?\u201d Hunter yells over the siren, covering his ears.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I yell back, pressing in every single number combination I can think of, but none of them work.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it in the papers in the car?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe,\u201d I yell, then run for the door and down the stairs to the van. Swinging open the back door, I shove three boxes out of the way before finding the one I\u2019m looking for. Ripping off the tape, I shuffle through the contents and scan the papers the lawyer sent, searching for the code, but stop and look over the hood of the van when the alarm goes quiet. \u201cWhat was the code?\u201d I ask Hunter, when he steps out onto the porch.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d He shrugs, looking over his shoulder into the house, like he\u2019s waiting for someone to come out, which makes me frown.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid it just stop?\u201d I question, slamming the van door. His eyes come back to me and he shakes his head then starts to open his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by a deep voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI turned it off.\u201d<\/p>\n
It takes one breath to realize who just stepped out of my grandparents\u2019 house. One breath for every moment I spent with the man standing before me to flash through my head. Two seconds for me to feel my world come to a stop.<\/p>\n
The boy I once knew is gone. There\u2019s nothing boyish about Zach Watters anymore. His jaw is now sharp, the stubble on it giving him a rugged look while accentuating his full lips. His dark hair has silvered around the edges, drawing attention to his expressive hazel eyes that look like they hold a thousand stories. His red and black plaid shirt is stretched tight across broad shoulders, giving a glimpse of the muscles it\u2019s covering. He\u2019s still every bit as beautiful as he once was, only more so now that time has aged him, taking him from a handsome boy to a gorgeous man.<\/p>\n
Swallowing, I look at my son then back again. \u201cThanks,\u201d I whisper, and Zach\u2019s eyebrows pull together as he sweeps his gaze over me. I have no doubt that I too have changed, but unlike him, time hasn\u2019t been good to me. I\u2019ve gained a few too many pound from eating my feelings over the last year. My skin has lost its youthful glow, and my hair has grown out at the roots without my bi-monthly maintenance appointments.<\/p>\n
\u201cShelby?\u201d he asks, but all I can do is confirm with a nod, since my mouth has dried up and I can\u2019t find my voice. \u201cJesus.\u201d His eyes widen as he looks down at Hunter then back toward me. \u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy\u2026 my son Hunter and I are moving in,\u201d I stutter, caught off guard by his presence. I wasn\u2019t stupid enough to believe I wouldn\u2019t see him when I moved home, but I had convinced myself that seeing him would be on my terms, or sporadic at best.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d he whispers, leaning back on his boots, crossing his arms over his chest.<\/p>\n
Ignoring his question, I start to move back toward the stairs, asking, \u201cDo you mind giving me the code for the alarm? I\u2019m sure it\u2019s somewhere in the papers the lawyer sent, but…\u201d I stop and look to the left when Zach\u2019s name is called. Standing on the porch of the house next door is a woman I know he got with a few months after I left. A woman he married soon after she gave birth to their twins. A woman I used to call my friend.<\/p>\n
A woman I now hate.<\/p>\n
I absently hear him say something to her, but the nausea turning my stomach and the sadness prickling my skin have me moving quickly up the steps, focusing on not falling over as I move past him. \u201cNever mind about the code. I\u2019m sure I\u2019ll find it. Thanks for shutting off the alarm,\u201d I mumble, as I walk through the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, honey. Let\u2019s have a look around, and then we need to get to the store.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom,\u201d Hunter repeats, sounding confused. I plaster a fake smile on my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe pizza place we drove past has the best pizza I\u2019ve ever tasted. We could do that for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight here, honey.\u201d I laugh, even though that laugh feels like glass edging down my windpipe.<\/p>\n
Studying me for a long moment, he finally mutters, \u201cPizza sounds good. I\u2019m gonna call Dad before we go, and tell him we\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure,\u201d I agree, watching him pull out his cell phone and walk toward the kitchen. I didn\u2019t agree that he needed a cell phone at his age, but like all things with his dad, there was never any kind of conversation. He didn\u2019t ask what I thought about it; he just did what he wanted to do.<\/p>\n
I hear a familiar throat clear. \u201cYou\u2019re back?\u201d Zach asks from behind me, making my shoulders slump forward and my eyes slide closed briefly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d I turn to face him and wrap my arms around my waist, feeling my stomach twist into knots. When I left town, we didn\u2019t fight, didn\u2019t yell at each other, didn\u2019t say things we would end up regretting one day. I just knew there was too much pain between us to make what we had left work, and Zach, knowing the same, didn\u2019t put up a fight when I told him my plans.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re staying here?\u201d he asks, and I nod. Running a hand over his head as his eyes move to the right, where Tina had been moments ago, before bringing his gaze back to mine. \u201cThe code for the alarm is one, two, three, four. I told Pat to change it, but you know Pat,\u201d he mutters, and I nod, knowing exactly how stubborn Gramps was. Shoving his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, his voice drops. \u201cI\u2019m really sorry about Pat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d I hold myself a little tighter. His eyes drop to my arms around my waist and soften before moving up to meet mine once more.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you need anything, I\u2019m next door.\u201d He lifts his chin in that direction, and my world stops again.<\/p>\n
\u201cPardon?\u201d I breathe.<\/p>\n
\u201cI live next door.\u201d<\/p>\n
Okay, maybe I should have guessed that, since Tina was over there, but I didn\u2019t, and this is not good\u2026 as in really not good. There is not one damn thing I can do about it, though, unless I want to load Hunter back into the van and live out of it for the next year or so, which I don\u2019t think will win me any brownie points with my son.<\/p>\n
\u201cCool,\u201d I whisper pathetically, with nothing else to say. Something familiar-looking and soft slides through his features, making my stomachache twist again, but this time in a way I haven\u2019t felt in a long time.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell\u2026\u201d I pause, needing this encounter to be over. \u201cThanks again for turning off the alarm. I wish we had time to catch up,\u201d I lie. \u201cBut I need to get to the store before it closes, and then I need to get Hunter some food. Growing boys don\u2019t do well without food,\u201d I ramble, as I put my hand to the door, wanting so badly to shove it closed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure.\u201d He nods then looks over my shoulder, into the house. \u201cNice meeting you, Hunter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou too\u2014\u201d Hunter looks between Zach and me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Watters, honey,\u201d I mutter, answering his unspoken question, as he comes to stand at my side with his cell phone in his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou too, Mr. Watters.\u201d<\/p>\n
Zach\u2019s eyes come to me and his face softens once more. \u201cSee you around, Shelby.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, see you around,\u201d I lie again, since I plan to pretend he doesn\u2019t exist from this moment forward. I wait, even though I don\u2019t want to, until he is walking away to close the door then stand there for a moment, trying to process what just happened.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know him, Mom?\u201d Hunter asks.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen I was younger,\u201d I say, turning to face him, \u201cwe were friends.\u201d I shrug, looking toward the stairs. \u201cMy room used to be in the attic\u2014it\u2019s the best room in the house\u2014and if you make it there before me, I\u2019ll let you have it.\u201d I raise my brows before taking off in a sprint up the stairs, listening to my son, who I haven\u2019t heard laugh in weeks, giggle as he runs up the stairs behind me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWow, this is awesome.\u201d<\/p>\n
Looking over my shoulder at Hunter I smile as he walks into the room with wide eyes. \u201cI told you it\u2019s the coolest room in the house.\u201d I used to love hanging out up here when I was a teenager. The vastness of the space, with its angled ceilings and four large skylights, was a cool place to spend time. Looking at my son now, I can see the excitement in his eyes as he wanders around the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think I could get a telescope?\u201d he asks, looking up at the cloud-covered sky through one of the skylights.<\/p>\n
\u201cDefinitely.\u201d I bump my shoulder with his as I walk past him toward the couch in the corner that\u2019s covered with a sheet and pull it off. \u201cWe may also want to find a cover for this thing while we\u2019re at it,\u201d I say, looking from the floral-covered couch to his scrunched up face.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d He nods, moving to the bed, where he rips off the sheet that is covering the mattress. \u201cI can\u2019t wait to tell Dad about this. He\u2019s going to think it\u2019s so cool,\u201d he mutters, and I bite my tongue to keep from saying, No, your dad will definitely not think it\u2019s cool.<\/p>\n
Max, Hunter\u2019s father, grew up wealthy. He never owned anything that had been used. Even when we got married, he insisted I sell the Victorian house I bought when I graduated college, wanting instead for us to buy a newly built house in a clich\u00e9 subdivision, where all of his friends lived. Shortly thereafter, he insisted I sell all of my old furniture, things I had bought secondhand and refurbished over the years. At the time, I was blinded by hope and love, so I didn\u2019t think anything about it. But over time, I slowly realized I was no longer the person I used to be. I had turned into a trophy wife who lived in a show home and neither of us had any real character.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom,\u201d Hunter calls, bringing me out of my thoughts, and I turn to look at him and notice he has a stack of photos in his hand. \u201cWho\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s my mom,\u201d I say softly, while walking over to where he\u2019s sitting on the bed, holding out a picture of my mom and me. In the photo, we\u2019re sitting outside on the porch, with our arms wrapped around each other, smiling at the camera.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look like her,\u201d he says thoughtfully. \u201cYou have her eyes and hair.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think so?\u201d I ask, looking at my mom, who had to have been about my age when the photo was taken. She was beautiful, with long dark blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a smile that lit up the world.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d He nods then looks at me, and asks quietly, \u201cDo you miss her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEvery day.\u201d I nod, taking the photo from his hands. \u201cShe gave the best hugs,\u201d I say, fighting back the tears I feel creeping up my throat. My mom and dad both died in a plane crash when I was fifteen. My father was the owner and pilot of a local adventure company, and he had taken my mom with him to drop off supplies to some men who were bear hunting out at one of the islands. On their way back into town, the weather shifted, and their plane went down on one of the mountains. Neither of them survived. That\u2019s when I moved to Cordova to live with my dad\u2019s parents.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have any pictures of your dad?\u201d<\/p>\n
I pause, trying to recall if I\u2019ve ever really spoken to Hunter about my parents, if Max ever asked about them, but I can\u2019t think of a single time. \u201cThere are a few downstairs on the wall. I\u2019ll point them out to you.\u201d I lean into him a little then stop when his arm wraps around my shoulders, surprising me. \u201cI love you, kid,\u201d I whisper, not surprised when he doesn\u2019t say it back, but happy that his arm tightens ever so slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m starving.\u201d He chuckles releasing me when his stomach growls loudly, breaking the moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can\u2019t have that.\u201d I laugh, standing from the bed. \u201cLet\u2019s go to Joe\u2019s. Hopefully, the pizza is still awesome. If not, you\u2019re gonna have to suffer and eat it anyway, \u2018cause the store is probably closed by now.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs there such a thing as bad pizza?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess we\u2019ll find out,\u201d I murmur, and then head out of the room and down the stairs, grabbing my purse as we leave.<\/p>\n
When we make it to Joe\u2019s, I find nothing has changed in the years I\u2019ve been gone. The owner Joe, an older Korean gentleman, is still in the back making the pizzas, and his wife Kim is still working the counter, gossiping about everything and everyone. While we wait for our pizza, Kim talks my ear off, telling me about the people in town, including Zach, who she informs me is not only a cop, but also the sheriff. She also tells me that Zach is single. He and Tina supposedly got divorced nine years ago, and Zach has had full custody of both his kids since then. I tell myself I don\u2019t care that Zach is no longer with Tina, but I still feel some relief knowing I won\u2019t have to witness seeing them together.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I sleep in my room tonight?\u201d Hunter asks, as I finish off my third slice of pizza and wipe my mouth with a paper towel.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t mind, but everything in the house needs to be washed. So if you want to sleep up there, we have to get your stuff from the van.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll get it, and then we can bring in everything else too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want to clean out the van?\u201d I ask, not at all excited about lugging stuff up three flights of stairs.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d He nods again, taking his half of the pizza box lid that he used as a plate to the trash bin.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf that\u2019s what you want,\u201d I agree, regretting those words an hour later as I head out for the last box. My arms and legs are tired from carting everything inside and up the stairs. I haven\u2019t worked out in the last year, and I can feel it now as every muscle in my body protest.<\/p>\n
Stopping when I hear a door close, I hold the box in my hands closer to my chest and look toward the house next door. I spot a handsome blond boy, who looks a lot like Zach, hopping down the steps, with Tina following close behind. Ducking down, I hide and watch them as they get into an old pickup truck, only coming out of hiding when they drive off.<\/p>\n
Having over fifteen years to deal with the adoption of Samuel should make it easier to see Zach\u2019s other children, but it doesn\u2019t. I still feel bitter about the situation. I know it\u2019s the fact that Zach\u2019s children were born a little over a year after Samuel, meaning Tina got pregnant not long after I left town. So not only did Zach have a relationship with Tina, but he built a family with her and kept the kids they had together.<\/p>\n
Heading back into the house with the final box, I wonder how I\u2019m going to do what I\u2019ve been doing for the last fifteen years. It was easy to block out thoughts of Zach when I was gone, but now that I\u2019m back and living next door to him, I wonder if it will be as easy to ignore the feeling in my chest that coincides with thoughts of him.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
~*~*~<\/p>\n
Grabbing my quilt from the end the my bed, I carefully balance my Kindle and glass of wine in one hand as I open the sliding glass door in my room and step out onto the balcony. Tonight is one of the first nights it hasn\u2019t rained since we moved in, and I have been looking forward to sitting outside under the stars with a good book all day long. Grabbing my glass, I take a sip then look to the left when the sound of rock music starts up and light flutters across the back deck next door, making me wonder if Zach\u2019s room is off the balcony like mine.<\/p>\n
Pushing that thought away, I turn on my Kindle then proceed to get lost in someone else\u2019s happily ever after.<\/p>\n
\u201cShelby.\u201d Jumping, some of the contents from the glass in my hand sloshes out over the side and runs down my fingers as I swing my head to the left, where Zach is leaning on the banister, his eyes on me. A short glass full of dark liquid is in his hands, and the light casts a glow behind him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou scared the crap out of me,\u201d I gripe, holding my free hand over my rapidly beating heart.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been standing here awhile,\u201d he mutters, then takes a swig of his drink. \u201cI thought you would have noticed.\u201d He rolls the glass between his hands while looking at me intently, making me fight the urge to squirm in my chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen I\u2019m lost in a good book, the world could crash down around me and I wouldn\u2019t notice.\u201d I shrug, taking a sip of wine, using the moment of reprieve as an excuse to look away from him, but realizing for the first time that I don\u2019t know the man standing across from me. Yes, he looks a little like the guy I dated years ago, but he also seems more intense, like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He\u2019s definitely not the easygoing kid I dated in high school.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow are you guys settling in?\u201d<\/p>\n
Pulling my legs out from under me, I rest my Kindle on the edge of my lap and turn to face him fully while adjusting the blanket.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s going to take a little bit to get everything cleaned up. I didn\u2019t know Gramps was such a hoarder until now. I think I\u2019ve thrown out about ten thousand issues of National Geographic, along with a hundred empty boxes and every single item you can possibly buy from an infomercial,\u201d I reply, then smile when he laughs a deep rumbling laugh and leans a little farther over the railing between us, causing another plaid shirt\u2014this one blues and yellows\u2014to tighten across his wide chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t keep them? You never know when you might need an automatic potato peeler.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought about it, but if I did, I wouldn\u2019t have anywhere to put my shoes, since all of it was stacked up on the floor in his closet, everything unopened.\u201d I smile, watching him grin for a moment before the smile slides away and his eyes move beyond me to the forest that sits behind the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m gonna miss him. I know he\u2019s been gone from town for years, but I\u2019ll miss our talks,\u201d he mutters, then looks up at the sky for a moment before meeting my gaze once more. \u201cWhy\u2019d you come back? Last time I talked to Pat, he told me you were planning on following him down to Florida.\u201d<\/p>\n
His words catch me off guard, since Gramps never told me he kept in contact with Zach. But then again, I never asked. I shouldn\u2019t be surprised they kept in touch, since they we\u2019re close when I was home, and were obviously neighbors before Gramps moved to Florida. Plus, Zach is the sheriff in town. Yet, it still feels strange that he knows about me, while I know nothing about him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was.\u201d I let out a breath, adjusting the blanket around my shoulders. \u201cBut I had to wait until\u2026\u201d I trail off, not wanting to talk about my divorce to anyone, especially not him. \u201cThen when Gramps passed away, there was nothing for me in Florida, so I decided to come back here instead.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t want to stay in Seattle?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I needed something different, so when I found out Gramps left me his house, I just knew I needed to come back here,\u201d I whisper the truth. Ever since I read the will and found out this house was mine to do with as I please, I had a feeling in my gut that I couldn\u2019t get rid of. Something telling me that I needed to come back here.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is a good town,\u201d he murmurs, but the look in his eyes is saying something I can\u2019t quite figure out.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is the last place I remember being really happy. I hope that I can make it that way for Hunter,\u201d I say quietly, and his face softens.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe looks like you.\u201d His words and tone catch me by surprise and I sit up a little taller. Never in a million years would I have thought I\u2019d be sitting on my granddad\u2019s deck in the middle of the night talking to Zach about anything. Definitely not about my son.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t say that if you saw his dad,\u201d I return honestly. \u201cWhen he was a baby, he looked like me, but not any more.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe has your eyes and your smile.\u201d He pauses, taking a drink from his glass. \u201cHe seems like a good kid.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s the best kid.\u201d I take a sip of wine, trying to keep whatever it is I\u2019m feeling right now in check.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2026 I think I saw your son. Um, the other day. He looks like you,\u201d I tell him, wanting to take the words back after I say them, because I don\u2019t want him to think I was spying on him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe looks like his mom, but has my personality, which I can\u2019t decide if it\u2019s a good thing or not. My daughter, Aubrey, on the other hand, looks like me, but is sweet down to her core. Where she gets that sweetness, I have no fucking clue.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh.\u201d I bite my lip, trying to figure out what to say to that. The Zach I knew was a good guy, sweet even. Tina, however, was mostly bitch, and I honestly don\u2019t even know why we were friends. Then again, growing up here, there weren\u2019t a hundred girls to choose from. My graduating class had five girls in it, and none of them liked Tina, which meant none of them really liked me either.<\/p>\n
\u201cI better go in,\u201d he says abruptly, cutting into my thoughts, standing to his full height. \u201cI need to be to the station early tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure\u2026 uh\u2026 have a good night.\u201d The urge to say something that will make him stay hits me hard, and it takes everything I have in me to keep my mouth shut.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou too, Shelby. And be careful when you\u2019re out here reading. Louie\u2019s out and about around this time of night, searching for food.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLouie?\u201d I question, scrunching up my nose. Cordova never had homeless people before, and I can\u2019t imagine it would now.<\/p>\n
\u201cLouie\u2019s a black bear. Normally, he sticks to the woods, but he\u2019s been known to nap on the decks now and then.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, man.\u201d I jump up, looking around for any sign of Louie, not sure how I could forget there are bears out here, since we are in Alaska. \u201cWhat\u2019s funny?\u201d I frown, turning to face him when I hear his deep laughter.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re in Alaska, babe. You lived here for years. You know there are bears out in those woods.\u201d He nods to the trees.<\/p>\n
Babe. Why, oh, why did that word make butterflies erupt in my stomach?<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that, but I forgot.\u201d I shake my head and watch his face soften once again.<\/p>\n
\u201cStill sweet as pie,\u201d I think I hear him say, but can\u2019t be sure, because his voice dropped to a low rumble that I felt skid across my skin.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I\u2019m gonna go in too,\u201d I blurt, picking up my Kindle and wine glass. \u201cHave a good night.\u201d And with that, I duck my head and go back into my room. Closing the door I lock it behind me then hurry and get into bed where I try to forget once more about Zach Watters.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
~~**~~<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHello?\u201d I answer the phone, still half asleep, then look at the clock and notice that even though it\u2019s light out, it\u2019s barely 6:00 a.m.<\/p>\n
\u201cShelby, I\u2019ve called three times,\u201d Max, my ex-husband, says into my ear, and I pull my pillow over my head with thoughts of suffocating myself with it.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s only six, Max. I haven\u2019t gotten out of bed,\u201d I grumble, tossing the covers back and sitting up. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to fly out there this weekend,\u201d he states, and I fight the urge to toss my phone across the room or scream at the top of my lungs.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis weekend?\u201d I verify, rubbing my face. \u201cWe haven\u2019t even been here a week.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have a few days off and would like to see Hunter.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sigh, considering him and his request. \u201cOur stuff is going to be delivered in two days. Then I start my new job next week, and Hunter has swi\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not keeping my boy from me,\u201d he cuts me off, and I can tell by his tone that he\u2019s mad and likely pulling at his ever-present tie in annoyance. Something I make him do often.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not saying you can\u2019t see him, Max,\u201d I clarify, wishing I had at least one cup of coffee before this conversation. \u201cI\u2019m just explaining to you that we\u2019re trying to get settled in here. Can you wait a few weeks before you come out?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSuch fucking bullshit. I can\u2019t believe you moved to Alaska, of all goddamn places. A boy should have his dad in his life.\u201d My heart stutters and I feel my pulse skyrocket. We didn\u2019t have a custody battle, but I wouldn\u2019t put it past Max to take me to court to gain custody of Hunter if I step out of line in his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cMax,\u201d I soften my voice as I walk to the kitchen, \u201cyou know we talked about this. You can come see him anytime, and in a couple years, he can fly out to see you whenever he has a break,\u201d I say, then drop my voice even lower. \u201cWe agreed on him living with me at least until he\u2019s sixteen. After that, he can choose who he wants to live with.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI miss you both.\u201d He sighs, making me roll my eyes. I know he doesn\u2019t miss me. I know this, because he\u2019s been dating woman after woman since I asked for a separation. For all I know, he was dating before that. Hell, the last year I spent under the same roof as him, he hardly spared me a glance. Hunter later suffered from his lack of attention, when we lived in the same town after our separation. With Max, it\u2019s always about him getting his way.<\/p>\n
\u201cMax, please just wait a few more weeks, and then you can come and stay as long as you like,\u201d I offer, the words leaving a horrid taste in my mouth. I will do whatever I have to in order to keep my son, though, including putting up with his dad in my childhood home for more than a few days.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine, when?\u201d<\/p>\n
Closing my eyes, I whisper, \u201cNext month. Whenever you like. Just let me know, so I can make sure I don\u2019t make plans for Hunter. I know there are a few camps here he\u2019s interested in.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine. Where is he now? I called his cell phone, but he didn\u2019t pick up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSleeping. Like I said, it\u2019s only six here, and he was up late talking to his friends back in Seattle on Skype.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really shouldn\u2019t let him stay up so late, Shelby,\u201d he scolds, sounding disapproving, and again, that\u2019s not a surprise.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s summer, Max, and his \u2018late\u2019 is ten, not three in the morning,\u201d I mutter, wondering how the hell I put up with him for so many years. \u201cI\u2019ll have him call you when he gets up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t tell him I\u2019m coming out. I want to tell him that myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWill do,\u201d I grumble, looking at the coffee pot and begging it to hurry up.<\/p>\n
\u201cTalk to you later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTalk to you later,\u201d I agree, setting the phone down on the counter. I make myself a cup of coffee and take it out to the back deck, drinking it while the morning sun beats down on me.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
![\"aurora](\"http:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/aurora-rose-reynolds.jpg?resize=203%2C203\")
<\/p>\n
Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who\u2019s husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She\u2019s married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it\u2019s beauty.<\/p>\n
WEBSITE<\/a><\/b>\u00a0| FACEBOOK<\/a><\/b>\u00a0| TWITTER<\/a><\/b>\u00a0| GOODREADS<\/a><\/b>\u00a0| PINTEREST<\/a><\/b><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Releases 29 August 2016 Blurb That moment your life changes. That moment that changes your life. That moment you love someone more than you love yourself. That was the moment we gave our […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":9988,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","yasr_overall_rating":0,"yasr_post_is_review":"","yasr_auto_insert_disabled":"","yasr_review_type":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[290],"tags":[285,301],"class_list":["post-11195","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news","tag-aurora-rose-reynolds","tag-excerpt"],"yasr_visitor_votes":{"stars_attributes":{"read_only":false,"span_bottom":false},"number_of_votes":0,"sum_votes":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/wide-open-spaces-cover.jpg?fit=150%2C234&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7gaNL-2Uz","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11195","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11195"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11195\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/9988"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11195"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11195"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11195"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}