“Okay,” I said, my voice cracking slightly.

We climbed the stairs, and I could smell the brewing coffee wafting from the kitchen. A smell that should have been comforting and familiar, but seemed lost in the deafening silence of the house around me.

Once I reached the landing I started to head down the hallway and hesitated the barest of seconds as I passed a room with the door closed.

“Jayme’s room?” Maxx asked, picking up on my unspoken panic.

I nodded and continued forward. I pushed open the door leading to the room I had slept in for the first eighteen years of my life and was sucked through a time warp.

I looked around in complete wonder as I took in all the ways the space hadn’t changed. I had truly believed that by now my parents would have boxed up my stuff and put it in the attic. Maybe turned the room into an office or used it for storage. Given the less than civil relationship we had endured, I hardly expected them to hold on to anything that was mine.

They had been clutching madly to the threads of their dead daughter’s life, so I figured they wouldn’t have enough room for what was left of mine.

I was completely wrong.

“It’s the same,” I mused, turning in a circle, taking in every detail of the room I had forgotten about.

“You had a serious thing for pink, huh?” Maxx asked, fingering the frilly drapes covered in pink polka dots.

“I was a different person,” I said softly, walking to my dresser and picking up a framed photograph.

It was the picture of Jayme and me after she had given me the silver cuff bracelet. My sister’s arm was flung around my neck, and we wore identical toothy grins.

I ran my finger along the smooth and dust-free glass, wishing I could touch my sister’s face one more time.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said the two of you looked alike,” Maxx said, looking over my shoulder at the photo.

I glanced back at him and smiled. “Yeah, but she was prettier.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Aubrey,” Maxx murmured, placing a soft kiss to the side of my neck before resting his chin on my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my middle. I pressed back against him, appreciating his solid warmth.

“You guys look happy,” Maxx observed.

“We were.” I put the picture down and turned in Maxx’s arms, twining my wrists around his neck. “Thank you for being here. I don’t think I could have done this on my own,” I whispered.

“You don’t ever have to thank me. I’m glad to be here for you. You’ve been my rock for so damn long, it’s about time I returned the favor.” I reached up on my tiptoes and touched my lips to his.

He clutched me tightly and opened his mouth under mine. Our tongues stroked and teased as we deepened the kiss. It was so easy to get lost in Maxx. Even here, in the middle of my childhood bedroom with my mother just downstairs.

Maxx’s fingers wove through my hair, and I pressed myself against the length of him, wishing I could disappear inside of him.

“Whoa, hang on a sec,” Maxx said breathlessly, pulling back. His face was flushed, and his eyes were bright. “I don’t think getting you naked would endear me to your parents. And if you don’t stop right now, that’s exactly what will happen,” he warned lightly.

I smiled. “Okay, later though.” I kissed him one last time before taking a step back.

“We should go back downstairs, I guess,” I said, feeling the heaviness in my chest return.

“Yeah, we should,” Maxx agreed, giving my hand a squeeze.

My dad had come home in the few minutes I had been upstairs, and I wondered whether my mother had called him.

Dad looked as though he had aged twenty years. His hair had turned completely gray, and his face was lined and tired. Gone was the strong, always smiling man of my youth.

“Hi, Dad,” I said in a small voice. Dealing with my dad had in some ways been harder than dealing with my mother.

Maybe because the disapproval and shame were absent from him. From my dad, there was nothing.

After Jayme had died, he had retreated from me completely, and it was as though, for him, I no longer existed.

And that hurt, perhaps more than my mother’s coldness.

“Aubrey,” he said, with a gentleness I hadn’t heard in years. And then he did the most surprising thing. He walked across the kitchen and enfolded me in a tobacco-scented hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said quietly into my hair. It had been so long since I had been hugged by my father. And I had missed it. A lot.

I felt like crying, but wouldn’t. Not now.

I pulled back, putting some distance between myself and the man who had raised me. “Still smoking that pipe, I see,” I commented, trying to smile but finding that my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

My dad’s smile was just as rusty. “Busted.”

“I keep telling him to quit. To try one of those e-smokers, but you know how stubborn he is,” my mom spoke up, fixing several cups of coffee.

I wanted to argue that I didn’t know how stubborn he was. Not anymore. The truth was that these people in front of me had become strangers.

Maxx came forward and held out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Duncan, I’m Maxx Demelo. Nice to meet you, sir,” he said politely.

My father looked surprised to see him but shook his hand. “And you are?” my father prompted, his brows furrowing.

I grabbed Maxx’s hand and pulled him close. “He’s my boyfriend,” I answered.

My dad’s smile slipped, and a silence rose between us.

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say or do.

“Let’s take our coffees into the living room,” my mother interjected, waving her hand toward the hallway. She handed me a steaming mug, and this time my smile came without effort.

“You kept it,” I mused, holding it up to see the faded blue writing. Maxx peered over my shoulder.

“That’s pretty funny,” he chuckled, indicating the OCD mug Jayme had given me all those years ago.

“Yeah, it is,” I said in agreement.

“Are you coming?” my mother asked, already in the hallway.

Maxx cleared his throat. “If it’s okay with you, I need to run to the store and grab some things I forgot to bring.” I frowned at him.

He met my eyes. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, and I felt a momentary panic at the thought of being left alone with my parents. Maxx was my buffer! He couldn’t leave!

“Of course. There’s a Target just off the highway,” my mom offered.

“I saw it as we came into town, I think I can get there.” Maxx smiled. My parents went on to the living room, and I rounded on my boyfriend.

“You can’t leave me here with them! What the hell, Maxx?” I demanded in an angry whisper.

Maxx kissed my forehead. “You need to talk to them . . . alone. Give yourself this time with your parents, Aubrey. Trust me when I say if you don’t you’ll regret it.” His eyes were filled with pain, and I knew he was thinking of his own parents, whom he’d never be able to talk to again.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Do this for yourself.” He buried his nose in my hair and held me tightly for a moment before pulling away.

“Can I have your keys?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“Don’t drive over twenty-five miles an hour and make sure you brake for all stop signs,” I instructed, dropping the keys into his hands.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of your baby,” he laughed.

He kissed me one last time and gave me a slight push toward the living room. “Now go and talk to your parents.”

“We were cleaning out Jayme’s room and we’ve put some things aside that we thought you’d like to have,” my mother said after I joined them in the living room.

I felt awkward and uncomfortable sitting on the same sofa that had been there since I was a kid. The frayed arms had worn over the years.

My mom passed me a shoebox, which I took gingerly.