A bark made my head snap up. I was shocked to see Cash bounding toward me, his tail wagging, his head high. When he reached me, he was so excited, he almost pushed me off the rock. I stroked his head, accepting his wet kisses.
Hunter followed him slowly, standing a few feet away from me. I met his eyes, the color of them bright in the light. Ice glowing inside fire. He looked as weary as I felt, the dark shadows under his eyes a direct contrast to his pale irises.
“I thought you left. I was at the house, and your truck was gone.”
“Someone cut their leg on a broken tree branch this morning. We were at the vet.” Hunter indicated Cash’s bandaged leg.
I rubbed Cash’s head again. “Poor baby,” I crooned softly. “Will he be okay?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“So, you’re leaving soon?” I asked, not looking at Hunter. It hurt too much.
“I planned to. But…” He tapped something on his hand, the motion causing me to glance up. He had the envelope I’d given Ronan in his hand. “You made me these.”
“For the road, yes.”
“When did you do this, Ava?” His voice was raspier than usual. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was tired or another reason.
“Over the last little while. It took me a long time to find all the songs.”
“How?”
I shrugged. “You had the tape cases with the song titles listed on the bookcase. I took a photo of them and then searched for all the songs listed and burned you some CDs since your tapes got ruined. I noticed your truck had a CD player, and you can probably buy yourself a newer boom box to play them if you wanted.”
His voice was quieter, and I realized he had stepped closer as I kept my gaze focused on Cash.
“Why?” he asked.
“I know what they meant to you. I wanted you to have them.”
The words hung between us.
“They are the only good memory I have of my mother. The only positive thing she ever shared. Those tapes, that music, was the one thing I had that made me smile from my upbringing. I thought they were gone, and you gave them back to me.”
I stayed silent, unsure how to respond.
“I read my grandfather’s letters.”
“Oh.”
His voice shook as he spoke. “They did want me. My grandparents. My grandfather explained my mother took me away because she was angry at him. I did live here with them for a while, but then they had a fight and she left, taking me with her because she knew that would hurt them. My mother never forgave him. He begged her to let them have me, but she refused.” He barked a bitter laugh. “She would have been better off without me. I would have been better off without her. Everyone lost because she was pissed and held a grudge.”
I heard the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry.”
“My entire life has been a lie. Everything. She made me feel unloved. Unwanted. She told me no one had ever loved me. She made me feel as if I was as broken as she was. She refused to let me feel safe.”
“Hunter,” I whispered.
“I learned a lot about my grandparents in those letters. Their story, their life I missed. My grandfather knew how kind you were to him, Ava. Your family as well. He regretted his attitude, but his pride stopped him from admitting it. He was sorry for the way he acted. For the things he said to them, and for refusing their compassion.” He shook his head. “He said a lot of things to people about your family which he regretted but, again, was too stubborn to correct. That’s why I reacted badly the first time I found out who you were.” Hunter paused. “I never apologized for that.”
He met my eyes, and I nodded in understanding.
“He had a lot of regrets in his life. He told me not to follow in his footsteps.”
“Good advice,” I whispered.
“I read a few of her letters to him he kept. She taunted him about me.” He shook his head in frustration.
“I’ve never felt anger and loathing toward someone as I do her now. My grandparents searched, hoped, prayed I would come back. They wanted me to have a stable life, and they knew, with my mother, I wouldn’t get that. His letters apologized over and over for failing me.” Hunter’s hands clenched into fists. “He isn’t the one who failed me. She is.”
His pain was evident, his distress acute. He shifted from leg to leg, his shoulders tense.
“I’ve always prided myself on my honesty. It was something I could hold on to. Even if it wasn’t pretty, I told the truth. I’d been lied to so much, I swore I would never do that.” Suddenly, he began to pace, moving over the rocks, prowling like a restless animal. He stared at the water and pivoted toward me. “And I kept my promise. Until you.”