Page 33 of When Sky Breaks

Foster raises a brow and shifts on the couch. “What do you mean? After we adopted you, August never really came back around to hang with Trek. I figured their friendship ran its course as they sometimes do.”

“I knew August for a year before I came to live with you.”

He frowns. “Oh. Really? That seems kind of big, honey. We, well, I never saw you around the neighborhood, and the boys never mentioned you. Had I known what was going on in that house, I would’ve tried to intervene, but I had no clue.” His face scrunches, and my chest caves at his vulnerable state.

I lay a hand on his. “It wasn’t your job. Please don’t get upset. No one knew. Except August.”

He looks confused so I continue, spilling guts I never spilled before.

“I was outside one day, and he must’ve been on his way here because he stopped on his bike and talked to me. Every few weeks, he’d stop by, or we’d meet at the little shack in the woods he’d found. We had a special friendship. August was everything to me back then. The only real person I trusted. And then when the fire happened, he drifted away.”

Regret swallows me.

I can’t tell him the whole truth. It would open too many tombs, and I’m not here to drag anyone else into this mess.

My cheeks pink. “We reconnected, and yeah, we fell in love.”

Nothing like admitting to your dad you fell in love during your senior year of high school. It sounds so silly when I announce it. But it’s the truth. And the truth is often loud.

Ironically, the truth that erratically hammers in my heart is this: August is mine and has always been mine. Seeing him in the flesh heightened every memory, every touch.

But he can’t be mine anymore. At least not like that.

He stole all my joy when he dropped that bomb on me. How he lied about it the whole time we were together. I fell fast and hard and for whom? A liar.

I fear it’s too big to forgive and forget.

“Then I can see how him leaving and coming back would be confusing.”

What’s confusing is the battle between my heart and my head.

I have Johnny now. August shouldn’t even be taking up space in my mind. Those five years were meant to burn away every bit of love I had for him.

“Did I ever tell you about me and Gwen’s relationship?” Foster asks.

I shrug, swinging my attention from the front window to him. “Maybe, but we got time now if you want to talk about her.” Anything is better than the inner monologue I have on repeat.

Foster grows wistful as he sinks back in time. “Everyone told us we were too young to know what love was. We were sixteen—high school sweethearts. I knew I’d marry her the moment I met her. No one could convince me otherwise. When you’re young, all those feelings are big. Doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”

What I had with August was the realest thing I’d ever experienced. Until he shattered the illusion. Such a naive girl I was.

“I was told settling down before we graduated was a stupid idea. I was supposed to sow wild oats in college. All my friends said the same thing. But why would I want to see our relationship as this last resort, as if all the adventure is gone once you tie yourself to a person? When you love someone that deeply, it’s only the beginning. You want to spend all your waking moments with them, building on that fantastic life you started.”

His words are tattered with longing. “I’ve known too many that get divorced or are unhappy with their partners, so if you’ve found the one who gives you the most peace and has arms that make you feel safe and loved, then don’t give him up, Sky, just don’t.”

I stiffen beside him. “Are we talking about August or Johnny?”

Foster takes my hand in his and squeezes. “That’s for you to find out.”

Agitated, I squeeze his back before taking my hand and sitting on it for stability. He doesn’t know what he’s saying; he doesn’t know the depth of shit we all got in. He can’t possibly think August is who I should be with.

What if I talk to him and can’t forgive him? Then what? How could I stay here knowing he’s living within these same square miles?

Could I make a life with Johnny, knowing August is around every corner, reminding me of his role in the death of my baby brother?

Another question hits me hard in the gut. At the end of all this, is it Johnny’s arms I’d run into?

I’m every bit the little girl in this moment just looking for her daddy to make everything all better. “Can’t you just tell me what to do?”

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