Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CLOVER
Madi and Savvy talk the entire drive home, and I don’t hear a single word, even though I’m squished between them on the RV’s Murphy bed while Elle chimes in over FaceTime. She stayed home with her daughter and Madi’s little boy.
I’m not sure where we would have put her anyway.
Roman’s driving, while Greyson muscled Chase out of the passenger seat. Braxton is in the recliner, and Grant got the gaming chair. Chase and Sterling sit on the floor facing us, their backs pressed to the front seats.
Elle says something about star-crossed lovers, but I’m too busy clutching Valen’s copy of Forgotten Scars to my chest. It might be the only thing keeping my heart from escaping my body.
Valen came back.
But coming back isn’t the same as staying. He could be there right now, rehearsing a speech about why his guilt matters more than we do.
For all I know, maybe he thinks he has to turn himself in for a crime he was forced to commit.
The thought makes me want to throw up, which would be unfortunate, considering what I’ve already put my friends through. Vomiting in an enclosed space might be pushing it.
“Are you okay?” Madi asks again. I’ve lost track of how many times they’ve asked me the same question.
Even Greyson turns around and offers an apologetic shrug. All the men in here have been suspiciously quiet since picking me up, but I feel the tension coiling around them.
“No,” I say. “I got on two planes today. I thought about driving. I broke into a man’s apartment, and now I’m going to see him with no idea what to say because I’m pissed off that he left, I understand why he left, and I’m terrified that he’ll leave again.”
“He won’t leave again,” Roman says.
At the same time, Greyson says, “You didn’t break in. They gave you the code.”
Roman and Greyson glare at each other in the front.
“Semantics,” I say. Lowering my voice, I whisper to the girls, “What’s going on with all the testosterone in here?”
“Braxton and Grey are on your side,” Savvy says, “but worried that the Harrington boys are here to try and pressure you into forgiving Valen. The Harrington boys are on your side too, but they’re worried Braxton and Grey are here to shit-talk about Valen.
So…they’re all here for you, basically fighting for the same thing, but too stubborn to get out of their own way to see the big picture. ”
I roll my eyes. So communication is a family-wide problem then, not just for Valen and me. Awesome.
“Just so we’re on the same page,” I say, loudly enough that everyone gives me their attention. “I have forgiven Valen, but I’m still pissed at him, and I don’t know how we move forward, but I appreciate you all being here for both of us.”
Madi squeezes my hand. “There is a future for you two, I know it.”
“He did drive back to Happiness of his own free will,” Savvy says. “He’d already decided he’d made a mistake.”
“You know what that means?” Madi asks.
“That he’s a prick with no balls?” Greyson grumbles from the front seat.
“Or…” Grant clears his throat. “That he’s aware enough to own up to his mistakes.”
“Or,” I say, “that we have terrible communication skills and enough trauma to choke an elephant.”
“No.” Madi rolls her eyes. “It means he chose you. He chose to face his feelings even if it hurts. That means something.”
“It took him long enough,” Greyson mutters.
I lean into Madi as the RV takes a corner I know by heart just before Roman slows to a stop.
“Holy shit,” Savvy gasps, peering out the windshield. “What the hell did he do?”
Chase opens the side door, and that’s when I see it.
The inn’s porch.
The fairy lights make the whole building look like something straight out of a romance movie that makes viewers cry into their glasses of wine.
Sterling offers me his hand. I climb out of the RV and cross the yard with my mouth agape.
“Oh,” Madi breathes. “Oh, Clover.”
I reach the stairs, and Greyson pulls me to a stop with a scowl on his face as we all take in the photos that crisscross the magical scene like dancing stars.
And in the center of it all, sitting on the top step like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment…
Is Valen.
He raises his hand in an awkward hello and stands while my family and his fill in the space on either side of me. His shoulders are stiff with tension. He probably wasn’t prepared for an audience.
“We’ll give you some space,” Madi whispers.
“Like hell we will,” Greyson spits, but Savvy is already prodding him along with one of her crutches.
Grant jogs up the steps and wraps Valen in a brief hug, whispering something that brings emotion to both their eyes, before passing him and entering the inn. His brothers follow, each offering a fist bump or a one-armed hug on the way by.
The thick night air is cool against my flushed skin now that I’m not surrounded by body heat, and silence falls around us like the curtain on closing night.
The front door closes, catching the corner of the welcome home sign, making it clatter against the frame, and the hand-drawn honeybee eases some of my fears.
“You came back,” I say, to break the ice. My voice sounds strange, as though it’s fighting through every painful memory for a glimpse of sunshine.
The sunshine is Valen. He’s always been my pot of gold at the end of a very long rainbow.
“I never should have left.” His voice is rough too. “Clover, I’m so sorry. I thought I was—”
“Being a stubborn, self-sacrificing idiot?” I supply.
“Gentle,” Madi hisses from the side of the house.
A surprised laugh escapes Valen as he leans forward to find Madi and the rest of my chosen family hiding behind a bush just before a crack of thunder rumbles in the sky.
“Yes,” he says. “I was an asshole. I should have stopped to think things through. I should’ve done so many things differently. I just couldn’t see through all the pain I’d caused.”
I climb the first step. Then the second. I’m close enough now to see the exhaustion in his face and the redness around his eyes. I’m not the only one who’s been crying.
“You should have stayed,” I say.
He flinches. “Clover—”
“You said you were giving me space to heal. Letting me decide if you’re someone I can have a future with.”
“And I meant every word.” His panicked gaze searches my face.
“I know you did. That’s what makes it so frustrating.
” I shake my head. “Valen, I spent fourteen years building a life around the hope that someday, somehow, we’d find a way back to each other.
Then, when we did—when you finally remembered me—you decided the best thing you could do for me was leave. ”
“I killed your parents, Clover.” I’ve never heard someone sound more broken. “My hands—”
“Were the hands of an eight-year-old boy who was manipulated by a monster.” I step closer. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back to see him clearly. “You didn’t kill my parents, Valen. Terra did. She used you as a weapon the same way she used everyone around her.”
“That doesn’t change what happened.”
“No. It doesn’t.” I press my forehead to his heart, feeling it thrashing wildly in his chest. “But it changes how we move forward. I’ve already grieved the loss of my parents, Valen. Don’t make me grieve the total destruction of us too.”
He rests his chin on top of my head, then wraps his strong arms around my body.
“I faced so many fears today,” I say. “Do you want to know why?”
He nods, the pressure of his chin moving the hair around my scalp.
Pulling back, I press my palms to his chest and stare into his eyes.
“Because the thought of losing you again was scarier than all my fears combined.”
“I’m so sorry, Clover.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I saw the photo. The one of us as kids. It feels like that moment was carved into my bones.”
“That’s because it was.” I press my body closer to his until we’re sharing breath. “We’re carved into each other, Valen. We have been since we were children. And I’ve always known that we are inevitable in every way.”
“I’m not running anymore.” His free hand cups my face, his touch so gentle my skin breaks out in goosebumps.
“Not from life, or the past. Not from my family, from love, and especially not from you. You’ve always been worth fighting for, Clover.
And now I’ll show you that you’re worth staying for too. ”
“It won’t be easy,” I warn him.
“I wouldn’t know what to do with easy. I love you, Clover.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ve always loved you. I loved you when I didn’t remember your name, when I couldn’t picture your face, when the only thing I had was this ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away.”
“I love you too.” My voice is steadier than I feel. “I’ve loved you through fourteen years of silence. Through nightmares and panic attacks and walls I built so high I almost suffocated myself.”
“Clover—”
“I’m not done.” I take half a step back but keep our hands connected.
“I love you. Present tense. Not because of who you were when we were children, but because of who you are now. The man who came back. The man who decorated this entire porch and drew a honeybee that looks like it was made by a first grader.”
He huffs a laugh through his nose. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s terrible.” I smile, forcing the sadness away. “And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I want you to know,” he says softly, “that I remember us. What we could have been, but I also recognize what we’ll become in the future. I’ll never walk away from you again, Clover. I promise you.”
I trace the lines of exhaustion under his eyes. “I know,” I whisper. “I’ve always known. Even when you didn’t.”
“What happens now?” he asks.
“You kiss the girl,” Agnes hollers from the side of the house.
He lifts his brow, and I crack a smile while whistles and cheers break out on the sidelines.
“Now,” I say, “you kiss the girl, and then we figure the rest out together.”
“Together,” he repeats, as if he’s testing the word, while leaning closer.