It didn’t matter whose fault it was. We could sit around all day placing blame—I’d come home with no warning, my mom had told my sister I was home, my sister had shown up without an invitation. All that mattered was that it never should have happened.

My sister and I hadn’t spoken in years before tonight, and now, to be honest, I didn’t care if we ever talked again. I hoped we wouldn’t. I loved her, I would always love her; she was my big sister. However, there was too much anger between us. She hated me for things she couldn’t begin to understand, and I resented the fact that someone who should have supported me through the hardest time of my life had decided to make it harder for me instead.

Now, she’d flung open my closet door as wide as it could go, leaving my skeletons lying out in the open for everyone to see. It hadn’t been the time, or the place. Yet the worst part was that she’d done it in front of Mike. That I could not forgive.

I was so lost in thought I never heard him approach, and I jumped when he put his hand on my shoulder. “Mols?”

“I’m fine.” I swallowed, turning my head toward him.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, eyes roaming my face, watching me closely. They narrowed briefly before he yanked me against him, cradling the back of my neck while he tucked my face into his chest and closed his arms around me. “No, you’re not.” He leaned down, kissing the top of my head, voice muffled by my hair. “But you will be.”

When his hand moved up and down my back, I moved my arms around him, pulling myself closer to his body, hands fisting in his shirt. For a few blessed minutes I forgot about everything: the shitty pictures of me in the tabloids, the rumors about me screwing Nate, the fight at the after party, and even my family bullshit. For a little while, I was at peace, safe in the arms of a man who held me because he wanted to, not because he had to.

Then my mom cleared her throat and I jerked away from him.

“The sheriffs just left.” The woman in front of me was still distraught, wringing her hands, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Georgeanne. I only told her you were here because I thought…”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought.” My tone was harsher than I intended and my mother’s face fell. I shook my head, hoping she’d understand I wasn’t angry with her. “It doesn’t matter now, mom. It happened. It’s over. It’s time to move on.”

“You’re not staying here tonight?”

Before I could speak up and tell her that wasn’t what I meant, Mike moved into me, placing his hand at the small of my back. “We’re not.”

“Where are you going?” Mom’s voice was heavy, full of emotion. “This is your home. You don’t have to leave.”

“We do actually.” Turning to me, he leaned in. “The bags are in the car, Molly. Say goodbye,” he ordered before striding out of the room.

I nodded. The devastated look on her face almost had me arguing with Mike, telling him we were staying at least one more night. I needed to get away, though. “It was nice to see you, Mom.”

“Sunny, please stay.” Her lips twisted. “We didn’t get to visit. You haven’t been home in so long, I thought you’d stay here a while.”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat, my mind racing as I hugged her. “I’ll come back,” I promised. “Next time I’ll let you know I’m coming, and we’ll plan some trips or something.”

“I’d like that.” She nodded, eyes still swimming. Then her face lit up and she turned away. “I have something for you.”

A few minutes later she met me by the front door and shoved a paper bag into my hands. “For the road.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t look, but knew it had to hold some of her homemade yummies. “I love you, Mom.”

She held it together as she gave me the warm, happy smile I’d seen thousands of times as a child. “As I love you, honey.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to my temple. “Have a safe trip, and call me when you get there. Wherever there is.”

The walk to the Suburban felt like it took forever. As soon as I reached Mike, he took the bag out of my hands, held open the door for me, then reached across the seat to buckle me in. I tried to push him away. “I can do that, silly.”

He only smiled at me, clicking the belt into place, before he walked around the front of the car to his door.

I refused to watch the house disappear in the rearview, not knowing when—or if—I’d be back. Neither one of us said a word as he crept down the dirt road, over the bridge, and back through the woods, but we both breathed a sigh of relief when the road was clear. As he turned onto the main road, following the TomTom to whatever destination he had programmed, I stared out the window, lost in thought. When his hand reached for mine, I clung to it as if it was my only lifeline.

*****

“I need a goddamn drink.”

I glanced over at Mike and smirked. “I second that thought. How many bars around here are open on a Sunday night? Ballpark.”

Mike answered my question with a shake of his head, glancing at the GPS. “We’re almost there.”

“Where is ‘there’?” I asked for the first time since we’d left my childhood home. My tension had eased little by little as we put miles between us and the farm, and now I’d started to feel like me again. We’d been driving in relative silence for the last forty-five minutes, not even the radio on to distract us.

“Nikki rented out a couple of cabins on the lake for the band. We’re gonna join ‘em.”

“Oh.” I turned my head back to the window, not sure what else to say. I definitely wasn’t up for company, or the obnoxiousness that came whenever we were all together. He squeezed my fingers gently, but turned down a dirt road with a large PRIVATE DRIVE sign before I could say anything else.

When the house came into view a few minutes later, I wasn’t surprised to see it lit up like runway lights. It was still relatively early, and my music family weren’t the type to go to bed early on their nights off. We got into a routine while on the road, and it really was easier to stay up half the night, even when we didn’t have a show.

What did surprise me was the fact that Mike drove past the house without slowing down. I hadn’t seen anyone I knew, and if three Chevrolet SUV’s, identical to the one we were in, hadn’t been parked in the driveway, I would have assumed that it wasn’t the house my friends were staying in. I turned to watch Mike, but he didn’t spare a glance in my direction.

Another lakeside home, almost identical to the one we’d just passed, came up on the right. This one had a few lights on inside, but it looked tame compared to the first one. There was another matching Suburban parked in this drive, and I assumed Mike was going to pull in. Yet he drove right by.

“Okay.” I chuckled. “I’m intrigued. Where exactly are we going?”

“To our cabin.” Mike nodded his head straight and I turned back toward the front.

“Our cabin?”

“Yeah.” Mike slowed, turning again, this time down a small, well-traveled grass path. “Nik rented out the entire place. It’s a seventeen acre estate—two full sized cabins and the caretaker’s place.”

“The caretaker’s place?” I asked, concerned. “This may seem like a silly question, but don’t caretakers usually stay in the place designated for them?”

He laughed. “It used to be the caretaker’s place. Now the owners rent it out. Nate and Lia were going to stay here, to get away from everyone, but she thought it would be better if we did.” The headlights highlighted a teeny, tiny, itsy bitsy cabin as he spoke. He pulled up to the steps and shut off the engine, leaving the lights on. “Well, that’s not really what I expected.”

I stifled a laugh. I was pretty sure the plastic Little Tykes playhouse that Nate bought his niece Emma for her first birthday was bigger than the building in front of us. Someone had been kind enough to leave a light on inside, but the curtain was drawn so we couldn’t sneak a peek through the little window. I immediately remembered the story Mike had told me about the fort he and Lia had built. “No wonder Lia didn’t want to stay here.”