Page 94 of Unruly

I shove the phone away and hop in my car that’s packed to the brim with boxes.

Before I start the car, I pull out the last thing I haven’t dealt with—Grandpa Ben’s letter. The envelope is starting to show wear around the edges from how many times I’ve traced my fingers over my name in his shaky handwriting.

I didn’t have the courage to open it when Rhett gave it to me, or during the packing. But maybe with this chapter closed, I do.

I slide the paper out and unfold it slowly, my hands shaking slightly.

Halle Girl,

If you’re reading this, that means I’m gone.

I wanted you to know a few things. I know about the baby. I know about the doctors and what they took from you. I saw it in your eyes every time you visited the ranch after coming home. But I saw you losing yourself long before you lost that baby. Zach was no good for you and I’m glad you’re leaving that sorry excuse for a man. A real man wouldn’t run from your scars—he would worship the woman strong enough to carry them. He would stand in the fire with you and never flinch. Don’t settle for less.

That house of your grandma’s is yours—build something beautiful with it. And if Cash finally pulls his head out of his stubborn ass, give him a chance. I looked at his grandmother the same way he looks at you. Don’t let that kind of love go.

Love you more than all the stars,

Grandpa Ben

Tears slip down my cheeks before I can stop them. A raw sob catches in my throat, honest and unguarded. He’d known. All this time, through every visit, every forced smile, he’d seen the cracks and loved me anyway.

The words wrap around the broken pieces inside me like a warm blanket. I press the letter to my chest and let myself cry until the ache eases into something softer—hope.

When the tears finally slow, I wipe my face and text Aunt Aria.

Me:

Court’s done. Divorce finalized. Zach didn’t show. I’m coming home now. Let me know if Cash shows up at the bar, okay? Don’t tell him I’m on my way.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

Aria:

Thank God. The place misses you. I’ll keep an eye out. Drive safe.

Turning the key over, I take off to the interstate that leads back home. The whole way, Grandpa Ben’s words ingrain themself into my brain. And I know, without a doubt, Cash is that man. Part of me has always kind of known he is, the rest was just too scared to hope.

Not anymore.

I fly down the highway, praying I don’t have to deal with too much traffic to add time to this six-hour drive. Exhaustion pulls at me, but so does anticipation. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence and distance. I need to see him, even if it’s just to remind myself that something good survived the wreckage of everything with Zach.

By the time I pull onto the road The Bar is on, it’s nearly 11 p.m. The neon sign flickers softly in the distance, casting red across the wet pavement.

I’m home.

I text Aria again.

Me:

Is he there?

Aria:

Still sitting at the end of the bar. You coming?

Me:

Yeah. Don’t tell him. Be there in 5