A Song That Never Ends (Broken Love Duet 3)

As I move through downtown, memories of this place filter through my mind. All of them center around one person.

Callie Street.

I haven’t asked Katie about her, and she stopped volunteering. It’s better that way. Now—probably because I know I’ll be seeing her again—I find myself wondering what she has been up to in the last five years. Is she married? Does she have kids? Hell, maybe she moved out of Macon altogether? I have no clue. I’ve thought about her—even dreamed about her over the years. I’m not sure how seeing her will make me feel. I’m dreading it. I never thought that would be an emotion when it came to Callie—but I am. I push thoughts of her away as I turn up the road that leads to the house I bought on a whim with my first big paycheck.

I paid way more than it’s worth. The former mayor of Macon didn’t want to part with it. It was probably foolish I wanted it. Something about the place always felt like home—which was a damn good feeling. I’ve never felt like I was home before. My best memories with Callie are there, too—but it’s more than that. Hell, I have a million-dollar mansion on the outskirts of Nashville, Tennessee. It’s never felt like home. It sure as hell doesn’t feel like I belong there.

I pull up to the gate I had installed and key in my passcode. I have a real-estate agency that discreetly gets their cleaning companies to clean the place. I even had them stock the house with basics when I knew I was coming in. I had the place restored—virtually. That basically means I did it all through blueprints, conference calls, videos and pictures and let an interior design firm handle the inside.

This is the first time I’ll actually see my home in person.

As I pull up into the half-circle driveway that’s newly paved with brick, I’m blown away. It’s much better than I even imagined. The brick has been restored, the foundation repaired, and all the windows and doors have been replaced with the best vinyl ones available on the market. They’re also much taller and wider than the original ones so that the whole place welcomes the outdoors in. The wood has been replaced with concrete on the patio with stone pillars installed to match the style of the house.

The landscaping is simple and easily maintained, but it’s pristine and a pond moves along the length of the patio. A small walking bridge crosses the pond where you can easily watch the koi swim below. The solar, outdoor lights make the place look bright and inviting against the house and throughout the large yard.

A privacy fence all along the left side of the house encloses the pool that I had replaced. That specific feature cost a mint. It does increase the property value if I ever decide to resell in the future. The yard has been completely cleared and filled in so that it is completely level, and the grass is lush thanks to the topsoil that was hauled in.

In the distance, I can hear the water moving in the creek. I had block walls installed in the creek bed which makes the sound of the water falling along the man-made walls louder and more inviting. The urge to walk down the path that leads to the large, swinging daybed I had restored hits me, but I resist it. I’m not sure visiting memories of Callie would be good for me tonight. Being back in Macon has hit me a little harder than I expected. I retrieve my bag from the truck—it’s just an overnight bag. I can do laundry. I’m not one to pack a lot of clothes to go anywhere. Next, I grab the bag of groceries I picked up and head inside. The foyer has a closet on the left and an entrance table for keys and such.

I gave the designer full control. My only request was to make the place appear open and welcoming with earth tones. I can tell immediately that’s been achieved—right down to the distressed, tigerwood flooring. I walk into the huge living room, admiring the wall of glass doors that can be lifted with the push of a button. They roll back easily as if they were nothing more than garage doors. It opens to the patio and pool, complete with a fire pit area that is perfect for watching the sunset. It’s beautiful.

Sitting down on the sofa, which is angled to see the sunset, I close my eyes. A feeling of rightness hits me. The forty acres that comes with this house have been transformed perfectly. There’s a barn and pasture, too. If I ever decide, I can make this a working cattle farm. I know next to nothing about cattle, but I can learn. I love singing, but the grind of it is already turning me into an old man.