Page 18 of Since the Day We Kissed

No. Don’t go there, Kara.

Kara shook her head and turned to the receptionist. “Thanks for your concern. We’ll be fine from here.”

Lots of people have blue Chevy trucks.

But as she helped Charlotte into the car, a nagging sensation coiled in her stomach.

What if it was him?

Kara’s head swiveled back toward the blue Chevy truck. She couldn’t help but watch as it pulled out onto the main road, its engine rumbling into the distance. For a moment, it was as if she were eighteen again, sitting in that same truck, the ocean breeze in her hair. Ethan’s voice filling her ears and echoing through her mind, “I love you. You know that, right? I’ll love you forever, Kara.”

Why didn’t he call?

Did he ever really love me?

Would he want to know about ...

The cool metal of the car door handle grounded her, pulling her back from memory lane into the present.

Stop. Focus on Charlotte. She needs you right now.

Kara took a long, steadying breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she willed Ethan’s image to fade from her mind.

It couldn’t have been him.

No way at all.

6

Ethan

Ethanslammedhisfistinto the steering wheel, the vibration rattling his truck.He had seen the horrors of war and the worst of humanity. He’d saved his men from certain death in Afghanistan, even with a bullet lodged in his arm. But the sight of Kara after all these years? That sent him running like a coward.

She was right there.

Hero nudged Ethan’s arm with his nose.

Ethan’s throat tightened, but he reached over and scratched Hero behind the ears. “I’m all right, buddy.”

Rubbing his throbbing temples, Ethan dragged himself out of the truck, and Hero followed him up the creaking porch steps of his dad’s house. When he opened the front door, Hero sauntered in, nails clicking on the floor. Ethan followed, his muscle memory leading him through the dim house to the kitchen. He sat at the same table where he used to eat cereal before school and TV dinners alone at night.

Hero whined softly at his feet as Ethan’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since leaving Virginia this morning. A TV dinner would feel like a feast right about now.

Guess some things never change.

He stood, then walked to the freezer. A blast of cold air hit his face as he yanked it open.

No luck.

The fridge wasn’t any better. His eyes spotted the same jar of pickles from earlier. He reached for it and checked the label, then shook his head—expired.

I’ll get food in the morning.

As he was about to close the door, he paused.

Wait—No beer?

His dad always packed the fridge with beer. Drank a six-pack every night. Maybe even finished the last one right before he ...

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