Page 159 of The Wrong Heart

We’re not so different, she and I.

While my tears continue to track down my cheeks, I give her knuckles a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” I whisper in a ragged breath. “I understand why you did it.”

Her eyes widen to copper saucers as her throat bobs with a swallow. She nods through her own tears. “I truly didn’t mean to hurt you, Melody. Please know that. My intentions were noble, but I realize now that it wasn’t right. It wasn’t my place to meddle.”

“I know,” I assure her. “It’s okay.”

A grateful smile tugs at her lips. “Thank you.” Her gaze dances away, settling on the bleached sheets, and she adds softly, “Thank you for everything… for what you’ve done for Parker. I feared my brother would never find happiness or joy, or see life as anything other than a burden. An affliction.”

Heartache stabs at me as I listen thoughtfully.

“His heart is strong, but it never had anything to fight for,” Bree finishes, finding her way back to me and sealing her words with a glimmering smile. She lifts her hand, placing it atop the bed cover that’s draped over my belly. “Now he has everything.”

—THIRTY-NINE—

Home.

This feels like home.

Not necessarily the four walls or the ruddy bricks, or even the curtain of tall, lush trees that surround the property, giving it an air of peaceful seclusion.

It’sthis.

This man.

This new life fluttering in my belly.

After Bree discharged us from the hospital, she led Parker to my room. His eyes were tired and weary, but his arms felt safe and eager as he pulled me into an emotional embrace, kissing the top of my head and hushing away my tears as they fell hard against his chest. We held each other for a long time, while three precious heartbeats filled my soul with hope.

We shared an Uber ride over to our vehicles, still parked near the bridge, then drove separately to Parker’s house where I plan to share my news with him.

Stepping out of my car, I jog towards him down the gravel driveway, entwining our fingers together when we meet beside his truck. Parker inhales a weighty breath, leaning back against the hood with a sigh. His eyes don’t find me right away. They are cast just beyond my shoulder, flickering with something I can’t quite read. “Hey… look at me.” My hand lifts, and I graze my fingertips along the bristles shadowing his jawline. “Are you okay?”

Parker tenses, wavering before meeting my searching stare. “Sorry, I just…” He blows out a hard puff of air, like he’s trying to regroup. “I feel all fucked-up inside. Itchy. Off-kilter.”

“You just went through a trauma, Parker. It’s understandable.”

His eyes close tight as a sticky breeze rolls through. “I feel like I fucking failed.”

My stomach pitches at his words. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. I failed you, and now I failed him,” Parker bites out, looking away again. He withdraws before I’ve even had a chance to try and reach him. “He’s dead. I knew it when I was dragging him out of that goddamn bay.”

A heavy sorrow saturates the air around us. Bree gave us the grim news before we left the hospital—they’d done everything they could, but the man on the bridge didn’t make it.

My eyes had shifted to Parker in that moment, and I swore I could see a tiny light flicker out. A cloud rolled in, casting shadows all over him.

He dimmed.

“Parker…” I lower my hand from his cheek, grasping both of his palms in mine. “Don’t do that to yourself. This is not your weight to carry. I just witnessed the most selfless, heroic thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and it only makes me want you a thousand times more.”

Parker’s eyes dip back to me, flaring as he registers my words. His grip on my hands tighten. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean, Melody.”

“I mean it,” I reply in a whispered, valiant breath. “You didn’t fail me—you made a mistake. Mistakes make us human. Mistakes have the potential to mold us into better, stronger people.” His eyes catch the pearly starlight as they dance across my face, brows creasing with reflection. “You did a good thing tonight, Parker… a really good thing. The outcome doesn’t erase that.”

His shoulders deflate, his forehead dropping to mine as he pulls me closer. We hold each other in silence for a few beats, wrapped up in the mere vitality of one another, serenaded by the song of the cicadas and our healing heartbeats. “I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re okay,” he mutters, pressing a light kiss to my hairline. Then he says with a sigh, “Thanks for following me home. I’m probably going to hit the shower and head to bed.”

I nuzzle into him with a nod. It’s the middle of the night, nearing the early morning hours, and it’s been an exhausting day. Maybe my big reveal should wait until tomorrow when we’re both more clear-headed.

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