Page 41 of Our Ruined Beginnings

“No need to be sorry,” Mr. Taylor insists, and my heart constricts at the hope of a double meaning as he pulls me into his arms, crushing me in a hug that feels just as genuine as his wife’s from earlier. I definitely don’t deserve them both being so lovely after everything, but my lonely little soul is so grateful for it, and I swallow down the lump of emotion in my throat when he lets me go.

“Your usual room is already set up for you. Please, go in and get settled,” Mrs. Taylor tells me warmly. “We have a prearranged dinner, so we’ll be out for the evening, but help yourself to whatever you need. You know your way around.”

I nod, not trusting my voice to stay steady, and give them a wobbly smile. They look at me with matching sympathy, but I don’t deserve it, so I step toward the house with a little wave.

“Thank you so much. Have a lovely dinner.”

I watch them head to the garage and disappear inside as the front rolls up, then I turn and look inside the door they left open. The place looks exactly as it did the last time I was here, however many months ago.

“The first week of summer break is going to be so boring,” I whine to Caleb’s back as he finishes packing, throwing some swim trunks into his open case. “You know Kinsley is away for nearly the whole summer?”

“I know, H! You’ve told me like a billion times. You remember you were invited on our holiday?”

“Dad would never let me miss graduation,” I grumble, as I had the many times they’d asked. It was true—my dad would never let me miss his opportunity to flaunt an achievement—but honestly, I’m also kind of excited to do the whole ceremony. The symbolism of the walk and holding my diploma. I just wish like hell Caleb and Madden would be there to watch me.

“Good thing I got you the best gift to make up for it,” he says.

“I don’t want a gift.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll tell Madden to send his back then.”

That has my ears pricking, and I sit upright like a damn meerkat at the mention of his name.

“Madden got me a gift?”

“Yeah, but I guess if you’re refusing them…”

I roll my eyes at his simple but effective method of manipulation. “Fine, I’ll accept your gift.”

“How gracious of you.” He chuckles as he heads to his closet, then throws me a box that I only just catch before it flies into my face. I send him a half-hearted glare.

“What is it?”

“You’re supposed to open it, H. That’s how gifts work.”

I do, ripping the bow off with absolutely no finesse. I’m not some weirdo who doesn’t like gifts; I just wouldn’t expect one to make up for not being there. Pulling the lid off, I see a rolled-up parchment. I take it out and spread it on the bed to see a sketch of the school I’m graduating from. It’s all delicate lines and pencil shadings, and I don’t think that school has ever looked prettier.

“I love it, Caleb,” I say truthfully. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I thought it could go in your room at DU.”

“You’re so sentimental,” I tease as I roll it back up, and he scoffs. But it’s true—it’s so like him to give me something to remind me of how far I’ve come, what I’ve accomplished to make it to Davis. He’s all about the journey, this one.

“Right. I’m bored of packing. Last one in the pool is on drink duty.” He runs from his bedroom, leaving me floundering behind as he flies down the stairs.

“Hey, no fair!” I call to him from the top of the staircase, but he’s already hitting the bottom with both feet and propelling left to head out to the backyard.

As I gaze up that same staircase, I shiver.

What was I thinking?

This house is so entwined with him—with them. How am I supposed to spend my break here and not deteriorate through the weight of my guilt? I spin on my heel, ready to walk back to Maine if I have to, but stop short when I see Madden watching me from about twenty feet away. I gasp at the look on his face and how it cuts to my heart, but it’s gone so quickly I can’t even fully register what it was, only the immediate feeling it gave me.

“Madden,” I breathe, and I would think he hadn’t heard me if not for the flinch.

“Are you going in or planning to block the doorway all night?” Any softness from the hospital is well and truly gone, his words clipped and harsh.

“Erm,” I stutter, because I absolutely was not about to go in before he caught me, but he rolls his eyes, steps up, and pushes past me. “I gave you an out,” I call after him as he strides up the stairs. “Did you only want me here to make my holidays miserable too?”

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