Page 52 of To Bring You Back
“You still care for her.”
He rubbed his face. Mom wasn’t supposed to know. He’d never spoken to her of his feelings for Adeline. “It’s complicated. Don’t read too much into it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve got an entire industry of people to do that for you.”
True, and they’d be hard at work today.
Adeline turnedthe mug tree her dad had made. Her favorite, a white mug dripping with teal glaze, came into view. She put it under the single-serve coffeemaker, then pressed the button. Her parents had been thrilled to open the door and find her on the step. So thrilled, the three of them had stayed up until two playing board games, which had been fun until her alarm sounded that morning.
Mom made her own selection from the mug tree. “The roses are lovely this year, if you’d like to pick some for this morning or to take back home with you.”
For this morningmeant she could cut flowers to take to Fitz’s grave. She visited every time she came to Fox Valley. The whole reason she’d agreed to this trip was to freshen her memory of the stakes, and following through with a visit to the cemetery would dampen the building anticipation for the ride home.
She smiled to thank her mom for the offer, then went back to watching the coffee gurgle into her mug.
“Unless you’re not going to the grave this time.” Mom wrapped her fingers around her own mug, one with a logo for the church Adeline had attended for years before she’d moved. “Time is short, after all.”
“What does that mean?”
“Whatever you need it to, sweetie.” She rubbed Adeline’s arm. “Fitz won’t notice what you do. At some point, you’ve got to let God take care of the dead.”
We’re completely forgiven and free.
Free to enjoy being with Gannon, though? She’d wanted to reestablish their old friendship, but now that she had it, a longing for more had entwined around her heart, immune to the barbs of regret that should’ve repelled the desire.
“Life’s short,” Mom continued. “This visit too. I guess the question is, who do you want to spend your time with? The living or the dead?”
Dad wandered in. “Is Gannon going to say hello?”
Her dad had always liked Gannon and Awestruck. He used to mortify her by bobbing along to the music at the back of their shows, but at least she’d known how genuinely he supported them. His encouragement these days, a side hug while scarfing down a hotdog or a comment on how good office help kept a church running smoothly, was nothing in comparison.
For bringing her home for a visit, Gannon had gained bonus points with her parents. Even more, she suspected, for being the first man they’d seen her spend time with since Fitz.
“Unless he’s running late, I think he’ll say hi.” She claimed her coffee, doctored it with sugar and milk, and sipped as she readied herself for the day.
Less than an hour later, she parked the car she’d borrowed from her parents on a dirt road shaded by mature oaks and surrounded by stone crypts. Fitz’s parents had secured him a plot in the prettiest cemetery in town, not that she was supposed to enjoy anything about this. She set off on foot around the big, old monuments to the smaller markers on the more recent graves.
She lifted her focus from the uneven grass to locate Fitz’s gray headstone among the sculptures and other markers, but between her and the grave stood a man. His back was to her, his black jacket was fitted across his shoulders, and his brown hair was disheveled. A helmet dangled from his right hand.
Her stomach plunged, and she inhaled sharply, freezing. It had never occurred to her Gannon would be here, the very place she’d determined to go to cool her feelings for him.
She looked back toward the car, thinking of leaving. A crypt hid all but the rear bumper, but the vehicle wasn’t that far away. Gannon didn’t seem to have seen her yet, and she could probably leave before he did.
But then Gannon lifted his hand to his face and dropped it again. Was he crying?
Could the loss have affected him more powerfully than she’d known? Curiosity and an instinctual desire to offer comfort pulled her forward.
She saw no tears, but when he looked at her, grief pulled at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He fixed his gaze back on the grave marker with Fitz’s full name, Gregory Fitzwilliam. After a deep breath, he stepped away. “I’ll give you space.”
When it came to her grief, all she’d had for years was space. The last thing she wanted was to be alone again with the desolate emotions. Maybe that, rather than curiosity or a noble hope of offering comfort, was the real reason she hadn’t run when she’d spotted him here. “I didn’t know you would come here.”
He slowed, then stopped. His hazel irises lifted her direction before he took another step away.
“Weren’t you afraid someone would photograph you?”
He halted again but kept his back turned. “I already told you, Adeline. The truth coming out isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.”
“What is?”
