I did not expect him to marry me.
“So who is this guy? What’s his story?”
“He’s…”
He’s my first love.
My last love.
My only love.
“He’s a guy I’ve grew up with. He used to live here.”
“Is what your mother said true? Is he a rapist?”
“No!” I hate this. “I don’t know what happened…”
Brandon exhales a groan, shoving his hand along the side of his neck. Lowering it, he inspects the chunky stainless-steel watch on his wrist. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to be back in the city by noon.”
“I just need a little more time.”
“The judge says you’ve got two more days.” He walks past me to the steps, to the grey Land Rover in the driveway. Just before he gets inside, he pauses, blue eyes running up and down my body. “Don’t make me do this, Ember.”
A knot twists in my throat, and I can’t speak. He gets inside, closes the door with a tight thump, and backs out, disappearing down the street as my mother pulls up in her large vehicle.
“Was that Brandon?” She gets out and hurries over to where I stand at the edge of the porch. “Why didn’t he wait for me?”
“He doesn’t want to talk to you, Momma. He doesn’t want to deal with this.” I’m so angry with her, I have to clench my fists to avoid throwing things. “I can’t believe you’d give her to him, send her away, just to keep Jackson and me apart.”
Her back stiffens, and her face turns pious. “Sometimes God asks us to make sacrifices. He asked Abraham to kill Isaac—”
“We’re not living in the Bible!” I shout, turning and storming away from her, stopping at the porch swing. “What do you expect to happen, Momma?”
“Brandon Lancaster has no intention of raising that child,” she says, and I hate her superior tone. “I’ll talk to him, and we’ll work it out so that Coco lives here with me. Permanently.”
It’s now my turn to throw her words back in her face. “That will never happen.”
I’m off the steps walking fast into town. Pain twists in my chest, and with every step, I feel the fear rising. I believe Jackson when he says it’s a smokescreen, although I’m not sure what that means.
I wish my faith were stronger.
It’s so hard.
We haven’t had enough time…
André steps out the door as I pass the poboy shop. “Emberly!”
I stop and look up. A white apron is tied around his waist, and his dark face is lined with a frown. “I heard about what happened.”
“Of course,” I say quietly. “I’m sure Betty’s told everyone by now.”
What a perfect way for her to clear her grabber-son’s name.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Heard it from Jackson—just before he left town.”
“Oh…” I look down the lane toward the cottage.
He’s gone again.