Page 92 of The Promise Of You

Suddenly I’m back in the hotel room with him telling me about his accident. I’m back at the pub, with him yelling at me. With Haley more concerned than angry at him.

But I won’t ask Millie, as sweet as she is. And as I drive to Clark’s Meadow, the field where the fair is set up, I decide I’ll do everything I can to get through to him.

Even if all I have is a cup of coffee as an offering.

I park my Honda on the expanse of grass marked ‘Parking’ and grab my jeans jacket from the backseat. It’s still early enough for the air to be chilly. As I step out and the dewy grass soaks my toes, I catch a glimpse of Justin at the food tent, then he disappears behind it.

I take quick steps to our stand and find him connecting the generator to the fridges and a deep fryer. He’s wearing faded jeans and a tight T-shirt with his restaurant’s logo on it. He smiles at me, a big, spontaneous smile I didn’t see coming.

“Perfect timing,” he says, his gaze doing a double take the length of my body, his hand shooting out to grab his iced espresso. “Thank you.” He gestures to a wooden bench just outside the tent.

I sit first, my dress inching up, and register him clearing his throat. Oh well.

Taking a deep breath, I let the early morning sounds take over any conversation, for now. Distant voices calling to each other. A hammer clanking against metal. A dog barking. Generators springing to life.

I point my mug to a low corral being set up by a few guys. “Is that your brother, over there?”

“Ethan.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “I—sorry, I should have introduced you the other day.”

“Oh, no! No, no, no. That’s…” That’s not why I’m bringing him up. “You guys looked so happy. All of you.” They looked like a pack of oversized puppies, running around and ribbing each other. But Justin had this air about him. He seemed worried. Tormented. Like he wasn’t sure what was coming next. I think back to Millie’s comment. ‘He deserves to be happy, after everything that happened’.

“He seems happy to be here,” I insist, thinking that might start him opening up.

“Yeah,” he says in a low growl.

“You know, what you told me in Boston—”

“Shoulda stayed in Boston,” he snaps.

His anger catches me off guard but doesn’t surprise me. “To be fair, it was meant to stay between us,” I say softly. “If you remember correctly—”

He shuts his eyes. “I remember everything from that night, Clover.”

He remembers everything. I whisper, “You said you wanted me to carry this for you.”

“I did.”

“That’s the opposite of leaving it behind. Leaving it in Boston.”

“So?”

“I’m carrying it for you. You’re not alone in this.”

After a long silence, Justin glances at his army green watch and stands. “We should get started.”

I stand to face him and set my hand on his forearm. Then I let my finger run up the intricate tattoo designs that cover his scars. He shivers but doesn’t move away from me.

He tilts his head down to me, his gaze drops to my lips, then peels itself from me to look over my shoulder into nothingness. The tents across the field. The vans bringing in chickens and pigs and horses. The trees in the distance.

Or maybe his brother.

“What happened in Boston stays with us,” I say. “Forever. No matter what may happen between us.”

His throat bobs.

“But you kept something from me, didn’t you?”

His voice is raspy, like he’s on the brink of tears when he answers, his gaze slicing to me. “That night meant the world to me. Don’t take it away now.”

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