Page 95 of The Life We Left Behind

This kid was possibly the sweetest I’d ever met. Well, he was probably the only kid I’d ever spent any time with, but I was fairly certain there were none as good as he was.

“If you weren’t okay with anything, you know you can come and talk to me about it, right?”

He nodded, turning back to his bookcase and staring at the books. “I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” he said without turning around again.

“What do you mean?”

“Because I have so many people in my family now that care about me.” Then he leaned forward, swept an entire shelf ofbooks into his arms, and turned around. “You really need to start making those boxes.”

This kid.

He wasn’t the only lucky one around here.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

DELANEY

“I’ve got another box for you,” Trace said as he put it down on the kitchen table.

“Ugh, how many of these things are left?” I asked, staring at it in dread.

It had been bad enough unpacking everything from the apartment, but going through all the boxes my father had packed was like going on an emotional rollercoaster every single time.

We’d fallen into a routine over the past couple of weeks where Trace would bring one box inside in the mornings, and I’d spend the day avoiding it and then doing small pieces when I worked up the courage to look inside.

I didn’t know why I was putting it off like I was.

“There’s only two more from the kitchen and then about fifteen from the rest of the house,” he told me with a wince.

This was a never-ending job, and I huffed out a breath like a petulant child as I eyed the box, hating the damn thing for existing.

“I feel like I’ve been doing this for months.”

“Then I’m not even going to point out that it’s only been two weeks.” Trace held up his hands and backed up to therefrigerator before he opened it to grab a water bottle. “I’ve got to head into the office today. I need to have a meeting with my dad about the regeneration project, but I can probably get it out of the way this morning if you want some company at the school this afternoon.”

“You’ve taken way too much time off work for us, Trace. It’s okay if you’ve got stuff to do.”

I loved having him around, and I didn’t even know if he realized that he was slowly moving into the house with us. Every day, Trace headed to his house to grab clean clothes or something he needed, and I was slowly putting it all away in the closet or somewhere else in the house.

We probably needed to talk about it, but I liked having him here. It felt like we’d finally made it to where we were always supposed to be. It also didn’t feel like it counted, not until we sat down and acknowledged it.

“It’s fine. I think after everything, they owe me the time. Anyway, the project is pretty dead in the water now. We need to call it and start looking at other ideas.”

I winced with guilt. The regeneration project wasn’t going ahead because even though we hadn’t talked about it, they couldn’t buy my land now, and it had been the final piece they’d needed to get started.

“It’s fine, Delaney,” Trace said gently. “This is how business goes.”

“It was kind of a stupid idea anyway,” Blake said as she strolled into the kitchen and went straight to the coffee pot. “Why do you want to fill this place with stuffy golf course hotel people, anyway? Don’t you want normal people and families who will actually move here? That’s the whole point, right?”

Trace stared at Blake with his mouth hanging open in surprise. I guess this was something they hadn’t considered.Regenerating the town would only happen through people, not money.

But rather than argue like most people would, Trace leaned back against the refrigerator and crossed his arms while he thought about what she said.

“So, what would you suggest?” he asked, in interest.

“Don’t ask me,” Blake pointed to me. “Ask Delaney. She’s the one with the ideas.”

“What!”

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