I knew there was no way I could deny her—I nodded.

Somehow, some way, I would get to her.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Past…

That afternoon proved to be a lesson in torture.

After returning home, my parents sat me down and pretended to care, and they did that by asking a lot of uncomfortable and demeaning questions. They’d also done the one thing I wished they hadn’t—they had called Doc to be a part of their charade.

“Addison…” my mother began as she sat back on the couch. She smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles from her cream skirt and folded her hands in her lap. “Addison, we are trying to understand what happened with this…this teacher, Mr. McKendrick.”

Just hearing her say his name in a way that said she was repulsed made me want to spit nasty, ugly words at her. Instead, I lowered my eyes and refused to answer.

If they wanted answers, they’d get nothing from me.

As far as they were concerned, Mr. McKendrick existed only as my teacher.

“Addison—” my father started.

“Don’t,” I snapped. I had no problem cutting him off. How dare my loving father question me and my motives or Grayson’s for that matter?

Realizing that they were getting nowhere, Doc scooted to the edge of the couch and in a gentle voice said, “Addy?”

My eyes flicked to his and, again, I said nothing.

“It’s okay, Addy. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

I wish that were true, but the fact was, I’d done everything wrong.

Why couldn’t anyone see that?

Blame belonged to no one except me. This was entirely my fault.

* * *

Present…

Tomorrow is the day of my exam.

Sitting on my bed, I look around the small room that’s become my home these past thirty days and wonder how I will feel when I step outside the front doors.

No one has come to visit me while I’ve been here at Pine Groves—no one except Doc.

My mother signed me over and then left me here to heal, or more likely, to disappear. Either way, she’d made it more than clear she didn’t want to see me until I would no longer be an embarrassment to the family.

That won’t be a problem because I have no desire to ever see her again. I wonder how she feels in that big house all on her own since my father was booked and sent away for his abuse.

All of this stemmed from decisions she failed to make, like protecting her daughter from a father with a drinking problem and a strong arm.

I look at the photo on the wall and notice the edges beginning to curl. Every day it’s becoming a little more worn and broken, even as I’m getting stronger.

Soon, I’ll be strong enough to face whatever comes my way because in two days I will be free to start over.

* * *

Past…

I pulled the truck into the parking lot of the cemetery and looked at the time. In ten minutes it would be midnight.

Turning off the headlights, I took the keys from the ignition and bent down to rest my forehead on the steering wheel. I clutched it so tight I thought it would break, but all it did was provide something for me to hang onto as I started to fall apart.

The thought of them questioning me tomorrow over the nature of my relationship with Addison made me feel sick to my stomach. Yet, I knew it wasn’t the relationship but the lie I would tell them to cover it up that made me feel that way.

The disappointment I felt was only superseded by the fact that I believed my actions were justified.

Was this what love was supposed to be like? An emotion that made you want to willingly give up everything for another—and how much was I willing to give?

I was in all kinds of trouble. My career was over, my reputation would be ruined, and my life…my life was still to be decided.

I squeezed my eyes shut and smashed my hand onto the wheel. My shoulders shook as the enormity of the mess I was in finally hit me.

Where did you go, and who did you turn to, when you had no one?

“Dad,” I whispered out into the darkness. “I could really use your help right about now. What do I do?”

I looked down to the center console, spotting his pen. I picked it up, tracing my finger over his initials, and thought of how disappointed he’d be.

I uncapped the pen and opened the glove compartment to find what I needed.

Nothing could be changed, not now. It was done.

I wanted Addison, and she wanted me.

But sometimes, you just don’t get what you want.

* * *

My mother continued trying to justify why I did what I did. I must have been seduced, coerced, talked into falling for this older man—this sexual predator.

As I sat there, I remained silent, knowing that anything I said would only make the situation worse. Doc was watching me carefully, almost as if he was trying to read my thoughts.

All the while, my father sat pouring glass after glass of bourbon, looking more drunk as the night went on.

“You are grounded indefinitely, except to visit with Dr. Wolinski,” my mother told me as she stood to shake Doc’s hand.

I was close to begging Doc to stay, when I heard him suggest to my father, “I don’t think that will help the situation tonight, do you?”

“I don’t feel like you help the situation at all,” my father slurred, standing to make his way upstairs, no doubt to pass out. I knew he’d checked out the day he’d picked up a bottle of alcohol and began drinking it like water.

My father was gone. There was no doubt about it.

* * *

Several hours later, I sat in my room watching the clock as I waited for my parents to go to sleep.

Dressed in jeans and a black sweater, I pulled my hair back and secured it in a ponytail and then snuck out my bedroom.

Walking to the front door, I opened it and made my way to the side alley. I followed my usual route until I reached the main road opposite the cemetery.

I sprinted across the empty road and through the old gates before following the drive to the parking lot. The empty parking lot.

He wasn’t there.

I searched the shadows frantically, trying to see if I was missing him standing anywhere. Maybe he walked? But he lived too far from here, so why would he?

I sat down on the edge of the curb, brought my legs up to my chest, and waited.

I nervously rubbed my sweaty hands over my jeans and placed my chin on my knees.

He’d be here.

If I waited, he would come. He said he would.

I would sit here on my own and wait.

I could do that.

For as long as it took.

* * *

Present…

Today is the day.

I stand outside of the small library and take several calming breaths.

I can do this. I just have to walk inside, sit down, and take the test.

Sliding my hand inside my pocket, I take comfort in feeling the pen in there. My good luck charm.

Ever since Doc gave it to me, things here have been better. I feel stronger, as if I can really move forward, even knowing the truth of my past.

I may not ever know his truth, but I know mine, and I’m starting to believe I can accept and live with it. I am a survivor and he wouldn’t want me to be anything but that.

I turn the handle and step inside to see Doc standing by the table with a smile.

“Good Morning, Addy.”

“Good Morning.”

“Are you ready?” he asks me.

Nodding, I walk farther into the room and pull out my seat. He slides the papers over to me and points to the clock.

Nine o’clock.

“It’s time.”

* * *

Past…

I checked my watch again, just as I had every fifteen minutes for what seemed like forever.

5:45 a.m.

I’d been waiting for over three-and-a-half hours, and he wasn’t here.

Maybe he was just waiting for the right time. Or maybe something happened to him, and he was already being held at the police station.

I wasn’t sure, but there had to be a good explanation for why he wasn’t waiting for me.

Grayson wouldn’t just leave me here.

I got to my feet and brushed off my jeans.

Maybe he was down at Daniel’s gravesite. I did say to meet me at Daniel’s. Maybe he’d misunderstood.

Stepping off the concrete curb, I made my way through the rows of rectangular stone.

As I came up to Daniel’s in the far back corner—I saw it.

There, lying on the bottom of the headstone, was a folded piece of paper with Addison across the front.

I bit my nail nervously and kneeled down to snatch up the letter. I knew it was from him. It had to be.

But why? Why didn’t he wait for me?

With a shaky hand, I unfolded the paper and a black-and-white photograph fell into my lap. Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss.

When I saw his writing, that same cursive writing he’d first scrawled his name across the chalkboard in, I knew.

This is all he’d left me with.

Addison,

I don’t even know how to start this.

Honesty seems the best option right now since you’re the only other person who knows what happened between us.

I’m sorry for so many things. Most of all, for not being with you right now. I’m sorry I broke my promise to you and let you down.