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Not the life I thought I wanted.

Not the family I’ll never have.

I’ve missed me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JOSHUA

Mom always loved the view from the back porch, especially at night, the mountains nothing but dark outlines against a clear sky scattered with stars. She used to sit here for hours, wrapped in a blanket and sipping a cup of tea, staring at the peaks. When I was younger, she’d make me sit with her as she pointed out the different constellations. I acted like I didn’t care about the stars. Now I’d give anything to have that time back.

It’s fitting this is the place she drew her last breath.

If I knew my time was coming to an end, I’d probably want this view to be the last thing I saw, too.

The mountains, the trees, and the stars.

Of course, that’s not why I’m out here tonight. Or why I’ve come out here every night since Saturday.

I’m out here hoping to see Wynter again, especially after running into her at Holley Ridge earlier.

I’m not sure why I want to see her so badly. Maybe I just want to know she’s okay after everything she shared with me. Maybe I want her to know I don’t care if she thought we slept together. Maybe I want her to finally look at me like I’m not just the boy next door.

Regardless of the reason, I can’t pull myself away from my back porch. As if some outside force is keeping me here.

The sound of a screen door echoes in the stillness, and I snap my head toward the Hayeses’ house. My pulse kicks up as Wynter steps onto the back deck wearing a pair of pajama pants and an oversized cardigan wrapped around her.

She doesn’t notice me at first. Just stares into the distance, her expression contemplative. Like she’s standing on the edge of something and is trying to decide whether to jump.

Given her current situation with Wyatt, maybe she is.

Then her gaze drifts toward my house.

Toward me.

I give her a small nod but don’t say anything, waiting for her to either acknowledge me or go back inside.

For several long moments, she doesn’t do either. Just keeps her eyes on mine.

There’s something different about the way she looks at me tonight.

Before, she looked at me as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. Like she was trying to figure out how the man standing in front of her used to be the lanky kid she remembers from all those years ago.

But tonight it feels like she finally sees me.

Not Bennett’s best friend.

Not the kid she used to babysit.

Me.

The person I am now.

“Do you want one?” I ask, lifting my beer.

She hesitates, her lips parting. I expect her to shake her head. Tell me she’s tired. Or come up with some other excuse for avoiding me like I sense she’s been trying to do since Saturday.

She doesn’t.