“Yeah.” She sighs. “But then again maybe not.”

I glance over waiting for her to explain, because I don’t see how this could be good in any way. Angie sips her drink, oblivious to my waiting. “How?” I finally ask.

“You’re learning to ask for what you need. You’re not running. You’re fighting for your life, Pres. There are no more secrets now. You can finally be free.” She throws her arm around me, tugging me to her. “I know it’s scary, but Zach needed to know. The boys needed to know the truth. And if he doesn’t come around, that’s okay. You’re not living in the shadows.”

As awful as today was, there’s been so much healing and love. The boys are hurting, but they understand a lot more now. My parents and brother were instrumental in helping them. We all sat with them, talked, offered the strength they needed, and in the end, they were both a little calmer.

In no way are we all okay, but there’s no lack of support to help us through.

“What if I can’t get him back?”

“Well, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

“I was wrong,” I admit.

Angie will always be on my side, but I’m aware of how she feels about this. “I think you were really young and then really hurt. I’ve known you pretty much my entire adult life. You’re not a dishonest person, Pres. You’re a runner. You never had to face shit head first.”

My god, this is what they see me as? A weak woman who runs?

“Wait.” She sits up and looks at me. “Before you go all stupid in your head. I just mean that you had Zach as a kid. Then me and Todd. You had someone the whole time. Then Todd pulled the rug out from under you. And with that comes some scrapes and bruises.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

She rests her hand on my leg. “You’re not. You’re so much stronger than the woman I saw last. You stood your ground, apologized, and tried to make amends. I think you’ve come a long way, my friend.”

“I had no choice.” I release a heavy breath.

“No.” She stops. “You didn’t. And I think that Zach is different too. You both are. It was really unfair of me to think otherwise.”

Logan opens the door, and we both look over. “Mom.”

“You okay, baby?” I ask as I walk over.

“I like Zach.”

My lips press together into a small sad smile. “I do too.”

“I want to say I’m sorry to him.”

Hearing Logan say he wants to apologize to Zach makes me feel like, maybe, I haven’t screwed him up completely. “I’m sure he’ll come around again.”

He looks over toward the corral. “He makes us laugh. He’s really nice, and he makes you smile.”

I don’t want to hide the reality from him anymore. “Zach and I have adult problems. And whether we work out or not, I know him. He really loves you and Cayden. I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of him. No matter what though.” I squat down so I can look in his eyes. “Uncle Cooper, Aunt Angie, Wyatt, Trent, and everyone else in this town will be around you. Okay?”

“Do you think he’s mad at me?”

His little green eyes fill with moisture. “No, baby. I don’t think he’s mad at you. Not even one single bit.”

He nods. “I hit him hard.”

Angie giggles. “I think you and I need to work on your boxing. You gotta hit him in the ’nads next time.”

“Angie!” I scold her.

“Teach the kid the basics, babe. ’Nads and nose.” She winks.

Logan laughs, “I missed you, Auntie.”

“Oh, Bubs,” she comes over and messes his hair. “I missed you more.”

“Please listen to nothing she says. You don’t want to hit anyone in the ‘nads.”

“They’re balls, Mom,” he corrects me.

“I’m not even going there,” I say with a laugh. Boys.

His gaze returns back to the corral. “I hope he comes by tomorrow.”

I want to say I do too, but he’s got a lot on his mind. Zach filled a role for Logan without anyone asking him to. He became his friend and someone he relied on. Wyatt and Cooper are as well, but Zach was something special. I think Cayden thinks of him as a hero. He remembers what it felt like when Zach found him, but the bond between him and Logan was slowly forged.

Angie takes Logan’s hand. “How about we all go watch a movie? I’m here for another week because someone.” She looks around tapping her chin. “Is turning eleven soon. I wonder who that could be?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “You need to work on your acting skills, Auntie.”

“I’ll give you acting skills.”

“Don’t give them to me!” he gasps. “You need them.”

We all burst out laughing as Angie starts to chase him. “Come here, you little monster!”

They both head inside, and I sit here wondering what to do. I feel so lost right now. The dust has settled for the most part with the boys, but Zach and I are clearly not even close. No matter what, we need to talk again.

I take out my phone and text him.

Me: We should talk.

I stare at the phone, willing it to respond. I haven’t heard from him since he left with Wyatt.

Zach: I know.

That’s it? I try to keep myself calm. I don’t have the energy to exert on this.

Me: Tomorrow?

Zach: Yeah, tomorrow. How are the boys?

I look toward the sky and pray. “Please don’t let me lose this man again. Please let us find a way to work it out.”

Me: They’re both okay. Logan is worried you’re angry with him.

His response is instant.

Zach: Never. I’m angry with me. I’m angry with us. Tomorrow we’ll talk.

I type out my response. It sits on my screen as I debate whether to send it. This isn’t something we should talk about via text, but I have to tell him I love him. I need him to know that even though we’re both feeling a lot, that hasn’t changed.

Me: I’ll miss you tonight. Please know that no matter what, I love you.

I press send and close my eyes.

I sit, holding on to my phone and waiting for it to buzz.

But it never comes.

I think I’ve lost the love of my life—again.

“J UST WHEN WE THOUGHT ALL was working out for them. We didn’t even have time to make them a back-together cake,” Mrs. Rooney’s voice filters through the hallway. “Bless her heart. She must be a wreck.”

“She hasn’t even been out of bed yet,” Mama says.

Oh dear Lord. I better stop this train before it goes off the rails. I enter the kitchen, and it’s filled with food. I’m talking a bakery’s worth of cakes and pastries. Angie sits at the table, digging in and writing things down. “What is all this?” I croak.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Angie tries for chipper, but it’s fake. She knows I’m far from feeling like sunshine.

I look over at the four other women in my kitchen. Mrs. Rooney, Mama, Mrs. Hennington, and my third grade teacher, Mrs. Kannan. This cannot be good.

“Oh, sugar,” Mrs. Rooney says with her lips pouty. “I’m so sorry about you and Zach.”