Page 119 of Forever To Me

Because for the first time in forever, I don’t want to.

Bridger Falls wasn’t supposed to stick.I was supposed to visit, help Maggie, and move on.But this place?It crept into my heart. The friendly hellos, the ridiculous gossip, the sense that every person here has already claimed me as one of their own.

It feels like home.

Maggie squeezes my arm gently, like she knows.

Hope’s a tricky thing.It sneaks in when you aren’t looking. And when you notice it—warm, familiar—you wonder if you’re supposed to chase it away or invite it to stay.

I’ve been chasing it away.But maybe… maybe this time, I won’t.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, nodding toward the Dogwood. “Come help me make something new out of this mess.”

I take a breath.And then I follow her inside.

Chapter 27

Walker

She wasn’t supposed to fit in here so damn well. She wasn’t supposed to laugh her way into my house, my kid’s life, my bar, and my heart.

But she did.

And now, she’s everywhere.

She’s in my kitchen, dancing in her socked feet while she makes breakfast for everyone.

She’s in my truck, singing off-key just to make Mack laugh.

She’s at my bar, tossing out sarcastic remarks like she was made to be here, like she belongs.

She’s on my damn porch swing at night, playing my guitar like she’s always had it, like it was meant for her.

She makes everything louder, funnier, more alive.

I like her.

And not in the way I used to like people. Not in the easy, surface-level way I let people in.

I like her so much it’s messing with my head.

And now, here I am, standing in the doorway of my cabin, staring at my messy, scribbled lyrics on the desk, debatingwhether or not to let her all the way in. Whether or not to share this part of myself—the part I don’t share with anyone.

I tell myself it’s not a good idea. That music isn’t something I share with other people anymore. That I keep it to myself for a reason.

Because I know what happens when you mix love and music.

Because I’ve seen what happens when you let someone too deep into this part of you.

Because the last time I let a woman into my music, I lost everything.

I tell myself all of that. And then I think about the way Violet looked at me that night on the porch, eyes shining, fingers plucking my guitar like she was born with it in her hands. The way she said music will always be a part of her life, even if it’s just for her. She gets it. She lost everything, too.

And the thought of her writing alone, singing alone, keeping it locked inside just like I do—it doesn’t sit right.

I don’t want her to go through what I went through. It's a lonely place to be. I head back to the house in the boat and park it and sit for a while, staring out at the cabin. I don’t want her to think she has to shove her music into the shadows like I have. And maybe—maybe I don’t want to anymore, either.

Footsteps behind me pull me out of my thoughts. I look up, and there she is. Violet, standing on my dock, smiling like she doesn’t know she’s about to undo me just by standing there, looking so beautiful.

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