When We Are Complete (Valiant Hearts #3)

Chapter 1

Kelly

For years, I told myself I’d left Harbor’s Edge behind. But now, about to go back to the place I once called home, it’s clear that some places never really let you go.

It’s Sunday at Dad’s house, our last family lunch before I leave. Outside, the leaves are just starting to surrender to the hues of fall—burnt oranges and hesitant yellows that collect in piles in the brisk Newark air, while inside, warmth from the oven still lingers.

Somewhere in another room, my nieces and nephews are playing a raucous game of hide and seek. I’m still at the dining table, where empty plates are scattered across the table, covered in what’s left of congealed gravy mopped up with torn dinner rolls.

Store bought, of course. Mom was the baker in the family. As well as everything else. There was nothing she couldn’t do.

My brothers sit across from me, their wives next to them, chatting quietly. Dad’s on one side of me, his eyes occasionally flicking toward Mom’s empty chair.

Anthony, my oldest brother, exchanges a knowing glance with Edward. Their lives are as neatly arranged as the financial portfolios they manage: successful, stable, and pretty much perfect.

“Harbor’s Edge, huh?” Anthony swirls the dregs of his wine. “Never pictured you as the small-town comeback kid, Kel.”

Anthony’s wife sips her gin and tonic, looking at me, while Edward’s wife scrolls through her phone.

“Neither did I. But the mayor’s office offered me a pretty competitive package, and I’ll get the chance to plan events that could actually mean something for the community.”

Anthony leans back in his chair, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he raises his glass again. “I know what you mean. Pumpkin festivals and parades are pretty meaningful. Next thing you know, you’ll be organizing bake sales and knitting circles.”

Edward snorts into his drink. “Yeah, just make sure you don’t wear one of those tacky Fall Y’all sweaters with a bedazzled pumpkin on it.”

Anthony’s wife raises an eyebrow, her blond hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, while Edward’s wife remains engrossed in whatever she’s looking at on her phone.

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll save the bedazzling for Christmas. Maybe I’ll get matching ones for all three of us. You two could use a little holiday cheer.”

“I dunno. With your resume, I just thought you’d be focused on the future. Staying in the city would make a lot more sense, stick to corporate galas or something a little more high stakes.”

Edward grins but his eyes betray him—he thinks heading back to Harbor’s Edge, the small town we grew up in, is a big step backward. They all do. None of them get why I need to do this. But to be fair, I’m not entirely sure myself.

“Right,” I say, “because nothing screams high stakes like a bunch of finance guys at one of my functions hobnobbing over rubber chicken and lukewarm champagne.” I give a dramatic shudder. “I’m living the dream heading back home, trust me.”

“Leave her alone, boys.” Dad steeples his fingers, leaning toward me. “Harbor’s Edge was good enough for me and your mother for many years. And who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone there, settle down, give me a couple more grandkids.”

He smiles, still looking every bit like the man who used to come home late from work but always made the time to tuck us in and say good night, although the years have softened the edges of his once sturdy frame. But the mention of grandkids isn’t without a sting. It disappointed Mom that I hadn’t settled down like my brothers, gotten married.

He continues to look at me a moment longer, his silvered hair brushed neatly, though the deepening lines on his face give away his quiet grief. Even now, he wears his wedding ring—a thin gold band that’s dulled over time but never leaves his finger.

“Thanks, Dad. But the boys can laugh all they want. Maybe it’s exactly what I need right now.” I trace the rim of my glass, once, twice. “A change of pace. And who knows? Maybe I will meet someone.”

I did meet someone there. A long time ago. But thinking about him after all this time? It’s pointless. Harbor’s Edge holds more than just memories, and some things are better left in the past.

A glance at my watch before I stand, stretching limbs stiff from sitting too long, before gathering the empty plates. “As fun as this has been, I need to head off soon.”

Dad follows me to the kitchen, while Edward, Anthony, and their wives stay in the dining room, talking in low voices— probably about me. We quickly wash up, and it’s hard not to think about the way things have changed.

“Thanks, Kel.” Dad’s hands are submerged in sudsy water as he fishes out the last plate and hands it to me. “I’m going to miss you.”

As I dry the plate, I spot a smudge that Dad missed. My fingers itch to grab the sponge and wash it again, but I force myself to leave it, my mind trying to convince me it’s good enough. Let it go .

“I’ll miss you too. But it’s not far. You can come visit whenever you like.”

He swallows, but I already know the idea of going back to Harbor’s Edge, the place where he and Mom grew up, met and got married, is something he’s not ready to do yet. It would hurt too much.

Turning away from the sink, wiping my damp hands on a dishtowel, my gaze drifts toward the hallway. There, in an ornate frame, is a wedding photo—Mom and Dad frozen in time, staring at one another with so much love. A perfect love ended too soon.

I promised her I’d be strong—no tears, no faltering. But strength is a brittle thing, cracking under the weight of memories and failed expectations.

“Okay, I better get going,” I say, voice bright despite the tight feelings clawing at my chest.

“Safe travels, honey. Call us when you get there,” Dad says.

“Will do.” I step back and grab my keys from the counter.

The whole family comes outside to wave me off. Anthony and Edward and their pretty wives and perfect children. And me…

My car is filled with everything I need for my fresh start—books, clothes, my bicycle. I’ve packed and repacked the trunk three times now, making sure everything’s lined up just right. The clothes on one side, the books perfectly stacked in the corner with the spines facing the same way.

Before I slide into the driver’s seat, I pull out my phone and tap out a message to my best friend since forever, Nora O’Connor: “Leaving now. Harbor’s Edge, here I come!”

I don’t wait for a response; the engine roars to life beneath my hands and I wave to everyone. As I pull onto the road, I check the rearview mirror. Once, twice. The street’s empty of cars behind me, but I glance again, just in case. Reflections of my family shrink away as I navigate through the streets of Newark.

I can’t shake the feeling of uncertainty, as though I’m standing on the edge of something big, but I don’t know what it is yet.

I try to focus on the practical reasons I’m going back—work, the chance to make a name for myself doing something more meaningful than corporate events. But it’s a crack in a dam, and the more I try to ignore it, the wider the crack grows until the realization hits me square in the chest.

I’m not going back for the job. Not really. I’m going back for her .

My chest tightens, and I blink hard. I thought I’d buried this, buried the need to prove myself to someone who’s no longer here. But there it is, staring me in the face. I’m going back to Harbor’s Edge because, deep down, I’m still trying to make Mom proud.

If only she were here to see it.

I turn up the radio, hoping to drown out the noise in my head, but then the opening notes of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep comes on, the song twisting through the air. I grit my teeth, gripping the wheel a little harder.

The words hit me harder than they should, and it’s because I’m heading home, but that doesn’t stop the memories from shaking loose—memories I’ve kept tucked away, buried somewhere I wouldn’t trip over them.

Everyone has someone they think about when that song comes on the radio, that one person who slipped away, whose absence left a wound so deep in their heart, the scar still burns.

And for me, that person is Jake Tanner.

He was the one who filled up every corner of my world, who made the small town of Harbor’s Edge feel like it held everything I could ever want. I was young, sure, but it was more than a first love—we were supposed to last, and I had this stupid, na?ve belief that no matter where we went or who we became, we’d somehow always find our way back to each other.

Well, that was a load of shit.

I try to shove it all back down, but the song keeps playing, relentless, peeling back layers I’ve spent years building. Closing my eyes at a red light, inhaling deeply, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions. But his face slips into my mind, those steady brown eyes that used to make me feel so good about myself. A thousand memories flood back—sticky summers, parties under the lighthouse, the way he’d kiss me.

I give in and let them wash over me because the more I fight, the harder they’ll pull me under. Finally, I open my eyes and the light changes. So does the song. But I can still feel it—something cracking me open from the inside out.

The hours pass quickly, and soon the town’s sign appears by the side of the road, its letters painted in a charming, old-fashioned script that looks as though it belongs in another time. Each curve and flourish seems to welcome me back, as if the place itself has been waiting.

Just one more turn, and I’ll be where my world fell apart all those years ago—and maybe where I can finally make myself whole again. I reach out and turn down the radio, letting the slow notes of the country ballad fade into silence, and tune into the steady hum of the engine, the weight of returning settling around me.

A shiver courses through me as I cross into town, a recognition that I’m skirting the edges of something that's both new and old. It’s the fear of being engulfed by the past, twined with the hope that in the quiet streets and salt-tinged air, I might finally be who I’m supposed to be—before loss hollowed out spaces within me.

I steer my car through the familiar turns. Trees arch overhead, forming a canopy that blocks out the setting sun, washing the world in a dusky haze. That distinct smell of Harbor’s Edge lingers in the air, the scent of the sea and pine mingling, a scent that speaks of my past.

Like that night Jake and I spent down by the jetty, eating ice cream cones and stealing sugary sweet kisses, wrapped in a blanket of moonlight and summer air. Back when Jake was my entire world.

God, get out of my head already.

I reach Main Street and pull over in front of Sweet Current Bakery. It’s closed, but the grocery store on the corner is still open. Stepping out, walking down the familiar sidewalk, there’s both the pull of the past and the push of an unknown future, tugging at my heart with the promise of possibility.

I’ve got this. I do.