Page 167 of The Wrong Heart

It’s all fleeting.

Life, itself, is fleeting.

I watch from a lawn chair perched in the front yard as partygoers disperse, scooping my daughter into strong arms, giving her twirls and kisses, thanking Melody for a spectacular party. West snakes his arm around Leah, kissing her temple, and I see the love between them—despite the tumultuous tide of their relationship, there is affection, and there islove. I kind of want to shake them, tell them to get their shit together and appreciate what they have, because it’s all so fucking fleeting, but I think that kind of awareness can only be learned, not taught.

Melody’s parents wave their goodbyes to me from across the yard, and I smile my send-off. They’ve taken me in and treated me like their own damn kid over the past few years, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I was robbed of that kind of relationship, that special brand of connection that only a mother or father can give. It broke me. It whittled me down to near nothingness, shaping me into someone I didn’t even recognize.

Bree did, though. She saw me—therealme, that little boy buried deep down inside, with a cherry-stained chin, laughter in his eyes, and a strong, worthy heart.

“Eat up, little brother.”

My sister pulls a chair up beside mine, handing me a container of miniature lemon loaves. I eye the offering with a half-smile. “Because my wife didn’t bake enough cake to have us all in permanent carb comas?”

Her acorn eyes glimmer with the glow of the red-yellow sundown. “Lemon cake is the happiest dessert,” she says, her teeth flashing white. “Melody texted me to grab some on the way over because she knows it’s your favorite and she burned them. I couldn’t say no to her twenty-seven sad face emojis.”

“She always gets you with the emojis.” Taking the plastic container from her hands, it crinkles in my grip as I rake my gaze over the treats. My heart swells. “Fuck, I don’t know what I did to deserve that woman.”

Bree shrugs, her coiled tendrils of hair bouncing over her shoulders. “It clearly wasn’t your quality baking abilities.”

I cringe. “Yeah, no. Maybe it was my warm and fuzzy disposition.”

“It definitely wasn’t that either.”

“My endearing personality?”

“Highly doubtful.”

We share a playful grin as the mid-March breeze blows by, fresh and cooling.

Bree reaches over to my chair and places her palm across my chest, patting gently. “It was this. She saw what I’ve always seen.”

My heartbeat skips at the sentiment, and my gaze drifts over to where Melody is wrapped in a warm embrace with Ms. Katherine. The two women pull back with tears glinting in their eyes, a testament to their strong bond and compassionate hearts. August dances around them in a princess crown, waving two glow sticks in tiny fists, her face still sticky with bright pink frosting.

A sigh escapes me, something wistful and pure. “Goddamn, I’m lucky…”

Bree’s fingers trail from my heart to my hand, and she gives it a light squeeze. “It’s not luck, Parker. This was all you.”

I swallow, drinking in the scene before me.

“You built this life, just like you built your home—from the ground up, with careful tools, hard work, and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.” Her arm stretches outward, showcasing the fruits of my labor. “You put this here.”

My chest thunders with enlightenment.I did this.I chose this life for myself—thiswas what was on the other side for me. This was what was shrouded beyond the hurdles of hardship.

My heart.

My hope.

My realhome.

The truth is, I never truly had a home until I had her. I had four walls and a place to lay my head, but no place to lay my heart. I planted roots here, but those roots had nowhere to grow. They were stagnant and shriveling.

Wilting.

My life could have gone in so many other directions. I had the power to make different choices, take alternate routes. It would have been so easy to coast along those dark waters until I gave up the fight and let myself drown.

But I chose to swim.

We hold the key to our own happiness, and what we put on the other side of that door is entirely up to us.

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