Page 40 of Forbidden Love

Deb’s expression darkened, and she looked down at the open book. “Emily, I made a crude comment about her losing her babies.” Her voice cracked just by saying it aloud. “There’s no apology for something that cruel.”

“You were drinking, Deb,” Emily said gently, though her voice carried weight. “Heavily. And you were hurting. That doesn’t make it okay—but it does matter. You have to forgive yourself, at some point.”

Deb shook her head slowly. “I’ve said a lot of awful things, Emily. Not just drunk. Sober, too. And we both know it.”

“But not about children,” Emily said firmly. She stepped forward and pulled Deb into a tight hug. “I love you, Deb. You made an ugly mistake, but it’s not all you are. Talk to her. She’s home with the kids today, and Garrett’s heading over to help Hunter and Brock with your roof.”

Deb leaned back slightly. “He is?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. He is.” She offered a small, sad smile. “You’re not as hated as you think you are, Deb. You’ve apologized to a lot of people, but not Janna, and I know that is silently killing you.”

Deb nodded her throat tight with tears. “I don’t even know what to say to her, Em.”

“Start with I’m sorry.” Emily walked her to the door. “If she accepts it great.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Deb swallowed hard. “Not that I expect her to.”

“Then, at least you tried.” Emily pulled her in for one more hug before giving her a gentle nudge toward the door. “Now go on. I expect you at all the town parties—especially now that you’re going to be an aunt. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding them because of Janna.”

Deb gave a tight-lipped smile, her heart thudding a little harder in her chest. “Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t ‘yeah okay’ me,” Emily called after her. “Go!”

With a deep breath, Deb headed down the steps, her boots crunching softly on the gravel as she crossed the quiet street toward Janna and Garrett’s place. A dry lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to apologize—she did. God, she did. The words she’d hurled that night haunted her, playing on repeat in the darkest hours when she couldn’t sleep. But shame was a heavy thing, and she carried more than her fair share of it.

The walk from the Feed Mill to their house wasn’t long, but today it felt like miles.

As she reached the front porch, she paused, hand hovering to knock, when the sound of children’s laughter floated around from the backyard. Turning, she followed the sound and slowly rounded the corner.

There they were.

Maria and Max—twins with bright eyes and wild hair—were running barefoot through the grass, chasing each other with squeals of joy. Deb stopped in her tracks. Janna sat nearby in a lawn chair, a warm, peaceful smile on her face as she watched them.

Deb stayed still, watching quietly from the shade of the house. The twins were beautiful, a perfect blend of Janna and Garrett, though Max looked so much like his father it nearly knocked the wind out of her.

She had never met them, only seen them around town.

Deb had always loved kids. But after that night—after hearing from her sister in a brutally honest rant exactly what she had said, word for word—she had shut down completely. She didn’tdeserve to be around children, not after wishing harm on them, even if it had come from the bottom of a bottle and not her heart.

Still, seeing them now, full of life and laughter, brought a sting to her eyes.

It was time.

She squared her shoulders, drawing in a long, shaky breath that caught in her chest. Every step toward the backyard felt like walking through wet cement. But she kept moving, heart pounding, knowing she had to do this—needed to do it, even if it shattered her all over again.

She was walking toward the woman she had wronged in one of the worst ways imaginable. And she had no idea what kind of reception she’d get.

“Janna,” Deb said quietly, her voice cracking like old wood under pressure. She didn’t want to startle her.

Janna looked up, a little surprised to hear her voice. “Deb,” she said, her tone calm but distant. “How are you?”

“I’m… alright,” Deb replied, though it felt like a lie the second it left her mouth. Her throat tightened as she looked at the children—beautiful, perfect, and untouched by the darkness she’d once spewed. “I—I came to say I’m sorry.”

Janna didn’t speak right away, just studied her with those sharp, perceptive eyes that had always seen more than most people. She stood slowly, brushing off her jeans, her expression unreadable as she glanced toward the twins before turning back to Deb.

Deb swallowed hard. “What I said that night… I’ve hated myself for it every day since. I was drunk, yeah, but that doesn’t excuseit. Not even close. I swear to you, I would take it back a thousand times if I could.” Her voice cracked again, thick with regret. “You didn’t deserve that, not ever. I just wanted you to know that I am so, so sorry.”

Janna let out a long breath, the kind that sounded like she’d been holding it in for a long time. “You hurt me, Deb. You hurt Garrett. And I know you were drinking, but… it still cut deep.”

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