Chapter 20 Everly
Chapter 20
Everly
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stare out the window. Murder is curled up beside me, her purring the only sound in the room. I absentmindedly stroke her fur, my thoughts drifting.
An affair.
The words keep echoing in my head. They make me feel sick.
I hug my knees to my chest. She was human, after all. Flawed, just like everyone else.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, and I glance at it, seeing a message from Beckett.
Beckett: Everly, please talk to me.
I stare at the screen. The phone buzzes again.
Beckett: I came by earlier. I knocked and knocked but you didn’t answer. Please, I need to see you.
Tears blur my vision as I read his messages. My fingers hover over the keyboard before I finally type out a response.
Me: You’ve had longer to deal with this. I haven’t.
His reply is almost immediate.
Beckett: Just meet me. At the cherry trees.
I hesitate, my heart pounding.
Me: Okay. I’ll be there.
The night air is cold as I step outside. It rained earlier, leaving a damp chill. I wrap my coat tighter around me and start walking up the hill toward the grove of cherry trees.
I reach the top of the hill, and the cherry trees sway gently in the wind. And there, under the largest tree, is Beckett, with his hands in his pockets.
He spots me and steps forward. “Hey,” he says softly.
I stop a few feet away from him, my arms wrapped around myself.
He takes a deep breath, stepping closer, his voice soft. “I’m sorry Margo hit you with that information. It should have come from me. I’ve been wanting to tell you since the moment you came back, but the timing never felt right. And honestly, I was scared. Scared that knowing the truth about our parents would hurt you too much.” He entwines my fingers with his, a sigh escaping his lips. “You’ve been finding your place here again, with your friends, the podcast, the whole ghost story thing, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I wanted to protect you.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “I was on my way to New York back then, and I was going to find you and tell you everything. About our parents. About how much I needed you in my life. I wanted you to know that none of their mistakes mattered to me—only you. But then, after the accident, lying in that hospital bed, I convinced myself you didn’t care. So I let it all go. We missed ten years because of me. I’m sorry, Ev.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve hated myself every day for telling you I never wanted to see you again. I got the tattoo for you—and me. I should’ve told you the truth back then, even if it hurt. Maybe we could’ve worked through it. Maybe we wouldn’t have lost all this time.”
I nod.
His thumb brushes against my hand. “I want you. I want us. And my mom, she would’ve wanted that too. She loved you, you know.”
Tears sting my eyes, blurring the vision of him standing so close. His words are filled with raw honesty. It’s there in his voice, his touch.
He tugs me closer, his forehead touching mine. “I’ve spent ten years yearning for you, thinking of you, dreaming of you. In high school, I had to watch Carson date you. I told myself I needed to keep my distance, but I couldn’t stay away. It was always you, me, and him—and even then, I made sure I was there. I had to be there, close to you. I want to be with you, Ev. I want us to face whatever comes, together. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I know,” I whisper.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve loved you all my life. It’s the kind of love that endures, like Lily and Quincy’s. No matter the time or distance.” He pauses, his eyes searching mine. “Why else would I send you that valentine to come back home? Home to me. Always to me.”
His words leave me breathless, words that sink into my heart. I’ve spent so many years searching for a place to belong, convinced that I had to leave Rose to find it. But belonging doesn’t have to be about a place; it can be about someone who makes you feel like you’re home, no matter where you are.
And Beckett—he’s that person for me.
I squeeze his hand. “You didn’t tell me, because you wanted to protect me. I get it, and I forgive you. But we sure wasted a lot of time,” I say, my voice trembling slightly as I punch him lightly on the shoulder.
He smiles, wiping at one of my tears with his thumb. “I know.”
“Maybe it’s what fate intended,” I say. “We’ve grown up. And we’ve come home to each other.”
He cups my face in his hands. “I will always be your home, Ev. Always. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than anything.” His voice cracks.
I look up at him, and the knot that has tightened in my chest since Margo told me about our parents begins to loosen. Slowly, I nod, my heart swelling.
Not once in the past ten years have I stopped loving him. I’ve carried him with me through every corner of the world, every adventure, every romance. Even in moments when I convinced myself I’d moved on, he lingered.
I loved him when I was in Paris, standing beneath the Eiffel Tower, feeling like the world was at my feet but still wishing he was by my side. I loved him in the quiet moments in my apartment in New York, curled up with a book, wishing he could read to me. I loved him, and cried for him, through every lonely Christmas, even when I tried to fill the void.
He’s always been the one. “I love you, Beckett. Now, more than ever. Being back in Rose, seeing you again, it’s bigger and stronger. I always want you. Need you.”
“Thank god. It was the hats, right? That’s what did it?”
I punch him again. “Just be quiet and kiss me.”
He leans in and brushes his lips against mine, then deepens the kiss, slowly and deliberately, like he’s pouring every emotion into our touch.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer.
Contentment. Joy. Home. Love.
This is where I belong.
With him.
Always.