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Stunned, Arien gave no response. She was trying to process everything he’d just said and nothing was making any sense to her.
“I’m doin’ my part. Tellin’ you everything.” He flattened out a crumpled ball of paper, and standing, he placed it in her lap. Her award letter. “I want you to stay, but because you want to be here, not because you think you’ve got no other choice.”
Then he walked away.
You’re too late.
Not that it mattered. Arien had made her decision a while ago.
But she’d been duped, hadn’t she? Set up.
Did Matthew ever love her mother? He genuinely seemed to. More importantly, Jennifer believed he did.
And for that matter, were Kellan and Tanner really in love with her? Arien thought they were, but now she wasn’t as sure.
Madness. That’s what this was. Sheer and utter madness.
Did one of them do something to her mom?
Stop it, Arien. They would never, and they were with you when she died.
Now she was losing her own damn mind.
Matthew must’ve said something to them. Both contrite, Tanner and Kellan kept to themselves and maintained a distance, giving her the time and space they thought she needed.
“Why are you fighting it?”
And apparently, they’d spoken to Jake. Or maybe Emily had. Didn’t fucking matter.
“Fighting what?” Arien didn’t bother to look at him, focusing instead on the dough she was kneading. Dutch-oven bread was up next on her blog.
Ignoring her bullshit, he came closer. “You love them. I know you do. So why are you fighting it?”
Jake had her all figured out, because isn’t that exactly what she’d been doing for months now? Waging a war between her heart and her head?
Pushing the bowl away, tears rushed to fill her eyes. Her gaze met his. “I don’t know.”
“Arien.” He wrapped his arms around her. “You love them and they love you. That’s it. It simply exists. Forget everything else. The only thing that matters is what you feel. What’s in your head can fuck you up, but your heart can’t lie.”
“I wish I could talk to my mom.”
“What’s stopping you?” Gently smiling, he inclined his head. “Go talk to her.”
She hadn’t been back here since the funeral.
And she didn’t remember very much of that day.
Arien had sat through the service staring down at her shoes. Not once did she look in front of her. Even as they filed past the hand-carved casket, clinging to Tanner, she averted her gaze and whispered a silent goodbye.
She couldn’t say who was there, the words that were said, or what they ate at the luncheon in the town hall after. It was all a blur.
The smell of burning sage. Intense and earthy. She remembered that.
Arien took the baby out of his car seat and walked toward the back of the cemetery on the outskirts of town. Water cascading over rock could be heard off in the distance. Birds. Wind rustling through pine.
She glanced at the gravestones as she passed. Surnames she recognized. The letters worn, barely discernible, many more than a century old.
“Levi Gantry, 1825–1906.”
