I didn’t slow. Didn’t answer.
I ran.
And I didn’t look back.
1
Rynna
Leafy shadows flashed across the windshield, interspersed by the blinding strikes of sunlight that burned from the sky as my car passed beneath the heavy canopy of trees where I traveled the winding two-lane road.
The closer I got, the harder my heart beat within the confines of my chest and the shallower my breaths grew. Cinching down on the steering wheel, I peered out at the worn sign on the side of the road.
Welcome to Gingham Lakes, Alabama, where the grass is actually greener and the people are sweeter.
Anxiety clawed through my nerves.
It’d been eleven years and what felt like a lifetime since I left the small city that could hardly be considered more than a town. I’d promised myself I’d never come back.
And there I was.
I just wished I had broken that promise sooner. Not when it already felt as if it were too late.
“Earth to Ryn.”
I jumped when the voice boomed through the car speakers. I was losing it. It seemed fitting. I’d been questioning my sanity ever since I’d signed on that dotted line.
“Are you there, or have I already lost you to the Deep South?” Macy asked. I could almost see her raising a dark brow at me.
“You really are dead set on breaking my fragile heart, aren’t you?” she continued. “You left me here to fend for myself. Not a soul to go out with on Friday nights and no one to make me miracle hangover breakfasts on Saturday mornings. That’s a travesty. Don’t you dare shred it more by pretending I don’t even exist. BFFs, remember? Don’t forget it, or I’ll show up with the sole purpose of kicking your skinny ass. Oh, and to get back those black jeans I know you stole. I’ve been looking for them for the last two days. I bet you have them hidden at the bottom of one of those boxes.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” I barely managed to tease through the thickness that lined my throat. “Where those jeans probably are is under your bed in that disaster of a room. You’re worse than a twelve-year-old boy.”
I was doing my best to inject a smile into my voice, but there was no disguising the hitch in my words as I rounded the bend and the town came into view in the valley below.
Gingham Lakes.
God, it was beautiful.
The valley was a vast expanse of green. Flush with abundant, flourishing trees. The massive lake tucked at the base of the opposite mountain range appeared little more than a glittering mirage in the far distance, the river so serene and calm where it ran through the middle of the city and segmented it into the two mirrored-halves.
This place was filled with the best and the worst of memories.
With the best of people and the worst of enemies.
There was only one person who ever could have persuaded me to return.
Leave it to Gramma to do it in the sneakiest of ways.
“Tell me you aren’t having second thoughts now that you’ve driven all the way across the country? By yourself, mind you, since you refused to let me come. You act as if I’d be a nuisance instead of a help. I can lift like . . . a thousand pounds. Pretty sure I’m the best mover in all the history of movers.”
“Says the girl who thought it was a good idea to let a box filled with glasses tumble down a flight of stairs rather than carrying it down.”
Macy chuckled. “Don’t be jealous. Just add creative to my list of skills.”
“Creator of disasters, you mean.”
She feigned a gasp. “I take full offense to that. I even made pizza and didn’t catch the apartment on fire.”
“No,” I ribbed.
“Truth.”
Quiet laughter rolled free as that heaviness throbbed. “I’m going to miss you, Mace.”
Right then, San Francisco felt a million miles away. An alternate galaxy. Really, it was just a different reality than the one I was headed toward.
Somber silence filled the space, and Macy lowered her voice. “Are you sure this is really what you want? You left the city you love and an incredible apartment downtown. You resigned from a job any one of us would kill to have. Hell, you were halfway up the corporate ladder. Worst, you left me.”
My heart clutched while I fought with the urge to turn around and head back to San Francisco. I wasn’t that broken girl who’d run from Gingham Lakes eleven years ago. I was strong, and I sure as hell wasn’t a quitter. “You know why I have to do this.”
“I do, and I know how hard it has to be for you.”
Grief pressed at my spirit. The perfect complement to the determination that lined me like steel. “It is, but I need to do this for her almost as much as I need to do it for myself.”