Chapter 1 #2
It creaks on its hinges, the familiar sound echoing into the quiet morning. Remi giggles, his breath warm on my skin, and his tiny hand grabs at my neck, pinching me as we walk outside.
“I know I already asked you this when we first got here,” Sarah says, stepping down the porch steps, “but why is your door red?”
“Red door! Red door!” Remi chants into my ear.
I wince, adjusting him on my back. “Easy, buddy, you’ll hurt my ears.”
“Rem-Rem, no screaming in Hunter’s ear, or you’ll have to walk,” Sarah chimes in, giving him a look.
Remi goes quiet, but I can feel his grin pressed into my shoulder, his cheekiness in the way he kicks his legs in excitement.
I glance back at the red door, my eyes drifting over the swing chair swaying slightly in the breeze.
The porch feels… still. Too empty. No beach towels drying over the railing, no worn sneakers scattered around the place.
A sadness creeps into me. I shift Remi on my back and scan the place again.
It’s too clean. It used to be different—loud, messy, chaotic.
Long days swimming down at Falls Creek, everyone smiling and bickering over the music.
Barbecues that stretched into the early night until it was time to head to the bar.
Maybe it’s the season. Winter dulls everything, and the rainy season hits, slowing us all down.
But the days are warm again, and summer is around the corner.
The busy season will soon be here, and God, I hope that means things go back to normal.
Remi squirms on my back, arms tightening and loosening like he can’t decide if he wants to hang on tight or bounce around as I lead the way down the path toward town.
I can’t help the low laugh that escapes me as I glance at Sarah. Her eyes meet mine, bright with curiosity, wanting to know the whole story. My cheeks burn as I fight the urge to disappear when the memory flashes through my mind. But I cave.
“I kept ending up in Everlyn’s bed.”
Her brows shoot up. “What?”
I grin sheepishly. “Everlyn. The sweet but feisty old lady who lives across the street. After a few too many out with the boys, I’d stumble into her house instead of mine. Same layout, same porch, same everything.”
Sarah’s shoulders begin to shake, and her hand flies to her mouth, covering the laughter trying to escape.
“I blamed the doors.” I sigh, shaking my head slightly. “They looked the same. After the last time it happened, and one very awkward morning, I lost it and painted mine red. With a hangover and all.”
“Did anyone try to stop you?”
“Of course not. The guys thought it was hilarious and placed bets on how many times I’d do it. Connor won.” I roll my eyes. It’s always Connor.
“I figured I’d rather be the guy with the bright, obnoxious door than the guy who kept climbing into Grandma Everlyn’s bed.”
Remi giggles against my shoulder, having no clue what’s funny, just feeding off his mom’s energy—Sarah’s breathless, wiping at her eyes.
“Okay,” she says, between laughs. “That’s… well, that’s a story.”
She loses it again, her head tipping back as she laughs so loud, Remi reaches out for her.
The sound falling from her lips wraps around me, carefree and wild.
It’s contagious. I want to stay in it, even if it’s just for a second longer.
To feel the freedom that would come with a laugh like that.
Unburdened, uncontrolled, and deep in the chest. The last time I laughed like that was with Madison.
The thought lands on me like a weight, and just like that, my mouth flattens out. My smile fades.
“I can’t believe you blamed your drunken confusion on your door.” She laughs again, and this time, Remi lurches forward.
Sarah moves on instinct, catching Remi and pulling him into her chest before he falls.
“What’s funny, Mommy?” he asks.
Scrunching her nose, she leans in, kissing his cheek. “Hunter painted his door red so he wouldn’t forget which house was his house. Isn’t that silly?”
Remi lights up. “Cool red door!”
“See?” I smile, pointing at him. “He gets it.”
“Oh, wow.”
Sarah’s voice is soft. I follow her gaze, and my chest expands, pride filling a place that’s been hollow for so long.
Bold white lettering stretches across a deep purple sign above two white doors with brass handles gleaming in the light.
The name hits me, and that feeling inside my chest stutters: Studio Joy… Joy. Our mom’s middle name.
She did it.
Across the street, sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making it hard to see inside. But I know exactly what’s in there. Everything Halle ever dreamed of, because my best friend wouldn’t have allowed for anything less.
“Remi, hang on. We can go over in a second.” I snap my focus to Sarah, finding Remi wriggling in her arms, desperate to hop down.
Chuckling, I reach out and scoop him from her. My hand curls into a claw, and his eyes go wide, knowing what’s coming.
“Tickle monster!” I roar, tickling his belly.
Wild laughter bursts from him. Sarah shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth.
But it’s the soft chime of a bell, and a gasp that slices through the moment from behind me.
I turn, still holding Remi, and my heart falls through my feet.
My breath catches in my throat as my eyes lock with hers from a small distance.
Standing outside Sunlit Espresso, a coffee cup in one hand, a small brown bag in the other. I know without looking inside, it’s a blueberry muffin. Her favorite.
I’m caught in a storm of emotions. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in her signature messy ponytail.
She looks the same, achingly familiar. My gaze trails down her body, over every curve I have memorized.
My chest tightens as my heart climbs back up from my feet, and I finally let out the breath that got caught.
“Momma!” Remi shouts, reaching behind me toward her.
My mind races, and I’m suddenly seeing everything through her deep brown eyes. My lips part as she glances at me, then to Sarah, then back to Remi.
Sarah steps up beside me, gently taking her son from my arms, and I tear my gaze away just long enough to hand him over.
But when I turn back, Madison’s already spinning.
Her yellow dress flares at her thighs, and I swear I see her eyes shatter right there in front of me before she breaks into motion.
Fuck.
“Madi!” I call out, stepping forward.
“Madison!”
Another step.
“Mads!” I try again, louder now, desperate.
But not even the nickname she hates stops her. She glances back one last time, and I see everything. The hurt. The betrayal. The heartbreak. She takes off around the corner, leaving me standing there with my heart in my hands, ready to throw it at her.