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“I want to forgive her.” His voice was quiet.

“Then I’ll ask you again, what makes you think you haven’t already? Seems to me you have this forgiveness thing in the bag. I mean, you’ve gone from loathing her to loving her in a matter of months, and while it’s been rocky, you’re still here fighting for her, and she’s still here too. You need to give yourself more credit, and you need to work on your self-awareness skills.” Sarcasm again, and he let himself smile that time.

He chuckled for a moment. His heart was thumping, and the tension was tight in his chest. The one thing he needed in life was being threatened, and he felt as though he might lose his mind if he lost her again. But he just wasn’t sure he could do this. Love her, piece of cake. Forgive her, it was apparently a concept he was still trying to understand.

Chapter Fifty-Two

“Oh, Bailey. It’s good to see you, dear.” He hugged her warmly, and she ushered him into the living room. “One of my favorites, you know that?”

“Is that your professional opinion, Harold?”

“Oh, heck, girl. I’m too close to retirement to worry about the professional part of my job. You’re a good kid. You’ve been a joy.”

“You realize I’m on parole for vehicular homicide, right?”

He chuckled for a moment. “You realize I cheat at golf every time I play, and I have a shit short game. No one’s perfect. We do the best we can.”

“Harold.” He peered at her, and he must have seen the seriousness in her expression because his face suddenly looked concerned. “I think I need to go back to Memphis.”

“You think, do you?”

She nodded. “I know. I think maybe being alone will be good for me for a while. Self-sufficient, independent.”

He smiled, but he shook his head. “People say that about relationships when they break up, not in reference to isolating themselves in a town where they know no one.”

“It’ll be an adventure.” She was trying to sound convincing.

“That it’ll be for sure.” He wasn’t buying it, given the look on his face. “You realize your PO there isn’t your biggest fan. Don’t know what you did to piss him off, but boy, does that man dislikes you.”

“I think I said ‘duh’ at an inopportune time.”

He chuckled. “So, you know I’ve seen your file, right?” She nodded. “And you know it’s my job to look into things like where you’re staying and whose phone number it is you give me to reach you at when you arrive in town. You can’t possibly think I missed whose name is on the mailbox.” Her eyes instantly teared, and he looked guilty. “Is that what you’re running from?” She shook her head. It was a lie. Of course she was running from him.

“Crazy to think we could be friends. Crazier to think we could be more.” She glanced at him, looking for the incredulity, but there was nothing but a sweet smile.

“Not a crazy bone in your body.”

She stared at the couch between them, and she fought the emotion roiling under the surface. She didn’t want to face the world alone. She wasn’t ready to accept that her mother was gone. She wasn’t ready to walk back into their apartment and deal with her memories. But then, she’d never been ready for any of the bullshit that had happened in her life. Instead of fighting the emotion, she gave up, letting the tears sit on the lower rims of her eyelids.

“You’re decided, huh?”

She nodded her head as her nose scrunched up to fight the tears. “Afraid so.” She could barely get the words out, and she looked away as her tears fell.

He took her hand and held it. He said nothing for a long while, and she stared out the window, letting her tears fall with no restraint.

“Like I said, one of my favorites.” He patted her hand, and she turned back, forcing a teary-eyed smile to her face. “So now, what’s with the clothes? Looks like you’re ready to run a marathon?” He was trying, and he usually succeeded, to lighten the mood.

She laughed. “Marathon? No, not me. A good jog can do wonders for the brain, though.”

“So I’ve heard. As I’ve mentioned, I prefer to burn my calories cheating on the golf course.” He had her laughing again as they stood. She walked with him to his car with Macy in tow. He hugged Bailey tightly, and she was left fighting the tears again. Before he pulled away, he tugged the ponytail that was holding her hair back. “For the record, no one’s better off alone.”

She stood back as he climbed into his car—her contradiction-in-terms parole officer who treated her more like a grandchild than a convict. She watched as his car rolled away from her down the long driveway, disappearing into the thick woods.

“Come on, Macy. One last run. Just you and me, girl.” Macy barked, bounced, and bounded into the woods and down the trail.

Chapter Fifty-Three

He slammed on the brakes as he rounded a bend in his lane and came bumper-to-bumper with an economical-looking sedan with an older man behind the wheel. He didn’t need to meet the man to know who he was. He’d left the hospital as early as he could, but it wasn’t early enough, and now here was the man he’d been trying to catch up to. Not him so much as her before she could get to him.

They jockeyed their cars around on the narrow lane to pass one another, and when they were side-by-side, he stopped and rolled his window down. The man had a kind face, and from what Bailey had mentioned to him of her PO, he was good to her—far more so than he’d been.

“She’s leaving?”

“This really isn’t a conversation I should be having with you.”

“Does it really matter at this point?”

The man studied him for a moment, and he finally smiled. “How about you talk her out of it for us both. Hate to lose my favorite parolee.” He winked at Darren and nodded his head before he rolled his window back up without another word. His car ambled down his lane, and Darren watched him in the rearview mirror for a moment before he put his SUV back in gear.

He hollered for her the moment he got inside. He was terrified of having this conversation, but he was more terrified of losing her. His home was empty, and her running shoes were gone. He dressed quickly and took off down the path. It was hard not to think about the day he found her bloody and hurt on the trail, and he focused on his legs, moving forward and getting closer to her. He didn’t know if she was upset or not. He didn’t have a clue what to expect at all.

The run had never taken so long in his life, though his pace was likely faster than usual. He was just desperate to get to her before the decision she’d already made was concretely set in her mind. He couldn’t allow himself to believe her mind was made up. Not when there was so much yet for him to say, and so much she needed to understand.

When he came into the clearing at the outcropping, she was there. She was sitting still as a statue near the edge of the outcropping where it fell away below. Macy sat next to her, quiet and calm—not at all Macy’s style.

“Bay.” He panted as he came to a stop ten feet from her. Her eyes flashed to him, and he saw the tears. They were beautifully restrained. She wasn’t crying, she wasn’t shaking in hitching sobs at all. She was just sitting. Her expression was distant and oddly calm. She smiled weakly at him, and his heart melted.

“Can I tell you a story?” Her voice was strong, and he just watched her. “About a little girl who had a crush on a boy once—a very, very special boy.” She smiled again through the tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks. He was having a hard time not joining her. “She told her best friend once she was going to marry him someday.” She was lost in a recollection he knew nothing about, and her face was peaceful as she talked. “Her best friend was excited because that would make them sisters. Of course, they were only twelve and that was a big deal to them.” Her tears started falling freely then, and his eyes watered.