THIRTY-ONE.
Ever
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Tobias Jeremy.
I lie in bed staring at the walkie-talkie on my nightstand. The little red light is off, but I can’t stop looking at it.
Tobias’ middle name is Jeremy.
Tobias Jeremy.
T.J.
When Marissa said it on the phone earlier, my lungs forgot how to work. My world tilted. Everything I thought I knew—about him, about us—cracked open and started rearranging itself around that one name.
Is it really possible he’s the same T.J.
from when we were kids? The boy who promised we would run away together someday, who made me believe the world could be bigger than my mother’s house?
Does he remember? And if he does, why hasn’t he said anything?
Was it nothing to him the way it was everything to me?
Did he hope I wouldn’t figure it out? Or did he think I had forgotten?
The questions keep piling up, each one heavier than the last. And I’m terrified of every possible answer.
Because all I can hear is Marissa’s voice: What if it’s not him?
What if I’ve built this whole thing up in my mind?
That’s the fear that sits deepest. That this story I have carried since I was twelve—the one I’ve polished and replayed until it felt like destiny—what if it ends here?
What happens to that piece of me if it was never real?
I roll onto my back and groan. I throw my arm over my eyes to block the lamp light and force my breathing to slow. On top of all this, Mr. Jenkins showed up with an offer: two point five million dollars for the ranch, land, house, animals, everything.
When he said the number out loud my brain shorted out. I knew this land was valuable, and I knew they’ve been after it since Ray died, I just never thought it would get to a number that high so soon.
That kind of money could buy me a clear modern house in a nice neighborhood, let me keep working at the little bookstore in Chicago without worrying about rent or bills or anything else. I could live comfortably, quietly, safely. Without the stress and worries and unknowns I’ve found here.
But it would also mean giving up the ranch. The animals. My family’s legacy. Tobias.
And I’m not sure if I’m ready to walk away from any of that yet.
I turn onto my side again and stare at the walkie.
I need to talk to him. I need to know the truth so I can decide what I want—where I belong, who I want to be.
Right now half my heart is still in Chicago, tethered to what’s familiar and predictable, the safety net I can fall back on if this all falls apart.
The other half is here, tangled in uncertainty but also in freedom, in possibility.
I reach for the radio before I can talk myself out of it. My thumb hovers over the side button, then static hisses when I press it, letting me know the channel is live. But the words won’t come.
Anxiety settles in deep. What am I supposed to say? Are you the boy who wanted to run away with me when we were kids? The one I’ve been carrying in my head ever since?
I set the radio back down fast. Maybe Marissa was right.
Maybe this is crazy. Maybe there’s no way it’s real, and I’m only going to hurt myself by chasing it.
But then I think of his eyes—those steady, quiet eyes—and something deep in my gut insists there’s a chance. I’ve never forgotten those eyes.
“Ever?” His voice crackles through the speaker.
My heart stops for a second. I sit up fast and stare at the radio like it might explode, then reach for it with a shaky hand.
“Yeah?” I manage.
“Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m out front,” he says.
My eyes snap to the window. Panic floods through me. Holy shit. He’s here. What do I do? What do I even say?
“Can we talk?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, already swinging my legs off the bed.
I grab the nearest coat, throw it over my sweatpants and t-shirt, and shove my feet into fuzzy socks without bothering with shoes.
I pull open the front door to find him standing at the edge of the porch in his usual clothes—loose denim jeans, faded t-shirt, laced up boots.
The porch light catches the brim of his hat and the line of his jaw.
His eyes find me immediately. They drag down over my mismatched outfit and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.
That smile feels like exactly what I needed without knowing I needed it.
“Sun’s about to set,” he says quietly. “You wanna sit out here with me?” I nod and step outside, then pull the door closed behind me.
I settle into the rocking chair he offers, toes pushing gently against the porch boards to set it moving and Tobias slides into the one beside me.
The clouds streak pink and purple across the sky—my favorite kind of sunset—but the silence between us feels heavy. I don’t know where to start. How do I even bring it up?
“You talk with Marissa?” he asks quietly.
I nod slowly, eyes still on the horizon. “I did, yeah.”
I twist my fingers in my lap, restless, then my leg starts bouncing. He watches me for a moment, then leans over smoothly.
When I don’t look at him, his hand settles on my knee and the bouncing stops instantly. I glance down at his fingers—strong, calloused, familiar—then lift my eyes to meet his.
“You know who I am?” He asks, but all I can do is stare into those green eyes.
They pull me in the same way they always have—steady, understanding, like they’ve seen every hidden part of me since the day we met. Like we’ve always belonged to each other. Like I’ve been waiting to find him again ever since that summer.
I nod once.
“T.J.,” I whisper. His eyes brighten. The corners of his mouth lift in the smallest smile and something inside my chest clicks into place.
“You told me your name was Grace,” he says.
I can’t help grinning. “Everette’s not a name,” I tell him, echoing his words from when I first arrived.
He nods slowly with a chuckle under his breath. “It’s my favorite name.”
I bite my lip. “Is that so?”
“Mhm.”
I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear and lean back, turning my gaze to the fading light. It really is him. And I’m not sure what to do with that knowledge yet.
“Did you know the whole time?” I ask.
“Mhm.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I turn to him now, studying his face as he searches mine. He hesitates, then lets out a long, slow breath.
“I thought you might remember when you saw me at the funeral,” he says softly. “But you didn’t. It… was difficult to take.”
I hear the quiet hurt in his voice. “Is that why you hated me so much?”
He huffs softly. “I didn’t hate you.” His eyes meet mine, full of sorrow.
“I’ve been waiting for you since I was fourteen.
When I saw you didn’t know who I was, I figured it didn’t mean anything to you.
I figured if I gave you a hard time, maybe it wouldn’t matter. But I guess my softness wore through.”
“You’ve been waiting for me?” My voice cracks under the weight of his words. He nods. The thought of him here at this ranch, waiting for me, after all these years, makes my chest ache. “I tried to look you up when I got older, but there are a surprising amount of T.J.’s in eastern Tennessee.”
“There are a lot of Grace’s,” he says. I chuckle under my breath. Yeah. I guess I didn’t give him much to work with either.
“Is that why you started working here?” I ask.
He nods slowly. “I thought maybe I’d hear your name one day, or maybe you’d come back at some point.
But it never happened. Then after a few years I started getting to know Ray and Linda.
They were always talking about their niece Everette—how smart she was, how brave she was for going off to Chicago by herself to start a new life. They talked about you all the time.
"And then one day I went to the house to help replace the kitchen cabinets and saw your photos in their hallway. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
But you only came back that once, when Ray died.
I saw you around the ranch, but I was too nervous to approach you, and you were grieving.
I’d spent so long imagining what it might be like when we finally met again. I didn’t want to ruin the illusion.”
The words settle over me slowly. I look at him—really look—and see the boy I remember layered beneath the man he’s become. The same quiet eyes, the same careful way he watches me.
“Sorry,” I say quietly, not really sure what else to say. He shakes his head quickly and rests his hand on my knee again. Heat spreads from his touch through my whole body.
“We were kids when we met,” he says. “People change. I certainly don’t look like I did back then. I should have figured you wouldn’t recognize me right away. It was foolish for me to think you would.”
I shake my head gently. “I had a feeling.” His shoulders relax. “I… your eyes. I always remembered your eyes. The way you look at me. When I saw you at the funeral, you seemed familiar. But then you were such a jerk to me at the ranch, I thought you couldn’t possibly be that same person.”
He gives a small, shy grin. “Maybe I judged you too soon.”
A moment passes of us just staring at each other. But one thing keeps passing through my mind—he was waiting for me.
That’s the only thing my mind can hold on to right now. This childhood fantasy, this little love story I’ve carried all these years—it wasn’t just in my head. It was real. And it was always him.
“So, then what now?” I ask carefully, glancing sideways at him.
He shrugs, his shoulders rising and falling heavily. “What do you want?” he asks softly, almost pleading.
What do I want?
The question feels simple and impossible at the same time.
Do I want to sell the ranch and go back to Chicago?
Or stay here and see where this goes? I’ve already learned so much since I arrived, and running the place is starting to feel like second nature, but there’s still so much I don’t know, so much I can’t predict.
This question has been heavy on my shoulders since I got here. But now there’s a certain clarity I have that I didn’t have before. There’s one thing I want, one thing I have always wanted more than anything, and he’s sitting right in front of me.
“Well…” I start slow. I see the quick flash of panic in his eyes when I pause. “Running away together seems a little foolish now that we live right down the road from each other.”
He smiles wide. His eyes light up. “It does seem a little childish.”
I laugh. He leans forward and turns the handles of my chair so I’m facing him, then drags my chair closer until our knees bump.
“Maybe we can start over,” I offer.
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have this any other way.”
My heart thuds hard against my ribs. I reach up and run my fingers through his beard, breathing heavier as we take our time looking at each other. Like this is the first time we’re truly seeing each other for who we are. And in some ways, it is.
“I want you,” I tell him softly.
He reaches forward quickly, grabs my hips, and pulls me onto his lap. I adjust myself over him, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands roam slowly up my back.
“I have never stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I will want you for the rest of my life.”
My eyebrows lift at the confession. All the crazy feelings I’ve carried for years are suddenly aligning, falling into place.
“I’m in love with you, Everette Grace,” he says firmly. I grab his face in both hands and hold him steady, my eyes flickering between his.
“I love you, Tobias Jeremy,” I tell him back. He leans forward quickly and kisses me hard.
I breathe him in like my life depends on it, like he’s the only person who has ever existed. He holds me tightly, like he never wants to let go. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be—in this man’s arms.