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“Kids are resilient.”

“They shouldn’t have to be.”

We sat there as the sun disappeared completely, long after the crew had already said their goodbyes and gone to their own homes. I thought about the woman who’d hidden letters in my walls and her twenty years of choosing wrong. About Tyson raising a baby alone. About choices and consequences and second chances.

“For what it’s worth,” I said eventually, “you did a good job. She’s amazing.”

“She’s trouble.”

“The best kids usually are.”

He smiled at that, the real one that transformed his whole face. My stupid heart did that flutter thing again.

“I should go,” he said without moving. “Early start tomorrow.”

“Six AM again?”

“Five-thirty. We’re doing the electrical.”

“I hate you.”

He grinned at me. “No you don’t.”

He was right. I didn’t. That was becoming the problem.

He stood, gathering our empty bottles, but paused at the bottom of the steps and turned back with an expression I couldn’t read in the dim light.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“You did good. Not putting up with his bullshit, leaving him after discovering who he truly was. It must’ve been hard to flip your entire life around, but two years…” He paused. “Two years is a long time.”

I knew what he was really asking, deep down. How I’d missed it. How I’d been that blind. The same questions I’d asked myself when I discovered them. The answer was complicated and simple at the same time.

“Yes. Sometimes we see what we need to see,” I said. “Until reality slaps us in the face.”

He nodded slowly. “Get some rest. And lock up.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

He was halfway across the yard when I called after him.

“Tyson? Thank you. For today. For all of it.”

He raised a hand without turning around. I watched until his porch light came on, then went inside and engaged all my new locks.

My phone buzzed. Rachel, texting about more delay tactics from Garrett’s team. Another hearing scheduled. Another attempt to force mediation.

I turned the phone facedown and went to find wherever I’d packed the wine.

12

— • —

Sam

Rachel’s call came at seven in the morning, which should have been my first warning that the day was about to go sideways.