Chapter 2 Late...very late. Indie shot a glance at her watch and groaned, then sped her steps to a sprint through the trees toward her car. Well, her version of a sprint. She definitely wasn't winning any awards for her speed. But then, the camera bag weighed her down, so it wasn't entirely her fault. Trees whirled past her, the smell of pine thick in the air. At least the rain had held off for her shoot, even if the session had run over. But to be fair, the sun had been stubborn, and she'd needed to wait for it to poke through the trees in just the right way so she could get the shot...and it had been so worth it. She exited the forest into the parking lot, where she quickly unlocked her car and climbed in. She turned the key. The engine didn't start. Dammit. She tried again. Still nothing. "Come on, come on, come on." Third try and the engine finally kicked over. "Thank God." A week ago, she wouldn't have had this problem. But a week ago, she'd had her super reliable Subaru Crosstrek that never broke down. Now she had this hunk-of-junk Honda Accord that had been built before she was born...literally. But it had been cheap. And that Subaru money was needed. She checked the time on her dashboard as she drove. Half an hour. It should be enough time to quickly drop everything at the house, change, and make it to the fertility clinic in time for her appointment. Plus, they always ran late. Or at least, they had. She hadn't been back in over a year. Nerves fluttered in her belly. Nerves that she was doing the wrong thing. That she'd regret this. And maybe she would. Maybe this would all end in heartache...again. But she was in a better place now. She'd been to therapy, healed so much of herself, and gotten a ton of acupuncture from Clara. She hadn't climbed her way out of the darkness-she'd clawed her way out by her fingertips. She wouldn't fall into that dark place again. One year. It had been one year of healing...and one year of being separated from Colt. Her heart thumped at the memory of Colt's text messages over the last twelve months. The phone calls she hadn't answered. The visits she hadn't been home for. But she'd had to focus on herself. So much of her had been scared that seeing him again might put her right back where she'd started. It would bring back all the failed IVF attempts. And not a lot else had changed, either. His mother was still his mother. He'd still been in the military. But now he's out, a voice whispered in her head. Not just out, he was here in Amber Ridge. He'd been back home in Montana for almost a month. She'd booked this meeting at the fertility clinic before she'd known he was coming home. She was almost thirty-five, with a ticking clock when it came to her fertility. Even after telling herself she'd never do IVF again, she felt like she owed it to herself to give it one final go. But could she actually go through the process again? This time with a sperm donor? Time would tell. She was halfway home when her phone rang, Clara's name flashing on the screen. She put her cousin on speaker. "Hey, can you hear me?" "You're muffled. Are you using your car's Bluetooth?" She cringed. Crap. She hadn't told Clara she'd sold her car. She hadn't told anyone. They'd ask questions and probably work out that she was having money problems, something she absolutely did not want, because then everyone would step in offering help. And she was not taking money from family. "No. You're on speaker." She cleared her throat. "Is everything okay?" "Yeah, I just wanted to check on you before your appointment." Those nerves took off in her belly again. "Are you doing okay?" Clara asked softly. "Yeah, I'm doing okay. I mean...it's just an information appointment to find out about the process of using a sperm donor. I'm not committing to anything." "It's still a big deal. I know I've already offered, but I'm more than happy to come with you." Indie was shaking her head before Clara had finished speaking. "No. You've been through so much this year." "Indie, I'm fine now." It had been less than a month since Clara had been chased down and shot at. "I'm okay to go by myself. But I appreciate the offer." "Fine, but if you change your mind-" "You'll be the first to know." "Good." There was a long pause, and Indie could almost hear her cousin thinking. "Say it." "Say what?" "Whatever you're trying to work up the courage to say." Clara sighed. "I was just going to ask if you'd seen him yet." She sucked in a breath of air. "I haven't seen him." Although, that probably had everything to do with her sudden need to become a recluse. "Is that because, in an effort to avoid him, you haven't been going out?" Dammit. Her cousin knew her too well. "I'm not answering that question. Have you seen him?" There were two seconds of silence that gave Clara away before she answered the question. "He was in Rob's Diner last week." "Last week? And you're only just telling me now?" "And I saw him on Sunday night at CJs. And maybe this morning, when I was walking to Sassy Stems." Indie's fingers tightened around the wheel. "You can tell me when you see him." "I know, but I don't want to make you sad." Did she look sad every time someone brought up Colt? "We're separated. I sent him divorce papers. We have to learn to coexist in this town." Divorce papers. The words sounded big and heavy. They'd felt right to send at the time. She needed to move on. It was the final step in her healing. But now that he was home? Maybe not so much. "Uh-huh." Why did her cousin say it like she didn't believe it? "Did you talk to him?" "He came over and said hi at the diner. He asked how I was doing. Then he asked how you were doing." Her heart gave a little kick. "And what did you say?" "That you were amazing. Thriving, actually." Indie almost snorted. Was selling her car to fund a round of IVF with donor sperm "thriving"? Probably not. She turned onto her street. "Thank you for saying that. And thank you for checking in." She pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine. "I'm always on your side, Indie." "How are you and Holden?" "This morning, he brought me an almond croissant and sweet tea in bed. Sometimes I have to pinch myself that I got so lucky." "Good. You deserve to be happy." After everything Clara had been through, and the cancer she'd fought, she had earned every second of happiness she got. "Thanks, Indie. You do too." Maybe she'd find her way back to happy one day. She wasn't deep in the grips of depression anymore. But she could definitely be doing better. "Thanks. Chat soon?" "I want an immediate update after your appointment." Indie laughed. "Done." The smile was still on her face as she climbed out of her car. God, she was lucky to have Clara. Her cousin had supported her a lot over the past year, just as her aunt Pam had. Without them, she wasn't sure she'd have gotten through. Exactly why she didn't want to tell them about her money problems. They'd swoop in and save her, and they'd already saved her enough. She grabbed her camera bag from the back and crossed to the door of her single-story ranch-style home. It was beautiful. A house she and Colt had bought together, just like the house they owned in California. She'd assumed he'd keep the one in California and she'd keep this one, but now that he was in Amber Ridge, she wasn't sure what was going to happen. Unlike her, Colt came from money. Old money. His mother was very well off, and as an only child, Colt had received a large trust fund from his maternal grandparents, whereas Indie wasn't even booking photo shoots. And the worst part was, she had no idea why. A couple of years ago, her business was thriving. So freaking thriving, she'd had to turn down jobs. Now? She was lucky to get a couple bookings a month. It was frustrating. She unlocked her front door and stepped into her house-only to stop. The hall light was on. She never left the hall light on. She never left anything on. She was almost overly obsessive about turning everything off because electricity was expensive. Quietly, she slipped her camera bag to the floor and opened a drawer in the hallway table. Under the false bottom, she lifted her pistol. Then, slowly, she inched into the living room. "Hello?" She was just nearing the kitchen when a figure stepped in front of the island. Her heart stopped. Colt. His familiar dark eyes bore into her, and he seemed to take up all the space. He was tall at six three, and right now he looked every one of those inches. Suddenly, she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All the walls she'd built to protect herself started to crumble. It felt like no time had passed at all. Like the year of no kisses, no late-night conversations, just disappeared. He looked exactly the same, and her heart ached to cross the space between them and wrap her arms around him. To let him hold her. Her fingers tightened around the grip of the gun. "What are you doing here?" "Hey, Cricket. I've missed you." Her heart squeezed. She hadn't heard that nickname in so long. He'd said he used it because she was small but fierce...but she didn't feel so fierce anymore. "What are you doing in my house?" One side of his mouth lifted, and yeah, she knew exactly what he was thinking. That it wasn't her house, it was their house. Their home. The home they'd chosen together. The home they'd wanted to raise a family in. "I couldn't stay away any longer." He stepped toward her. Air soared into her lungs. She'd been avoiding as many public spaces as possible because she knew that the second she saw him, she'd feel exactly what she was feeling right now. An impossibly heavy yearning. The feeling of close never quite being close enough. He took another step toward her. "Can you put the pistol down, Cricket?" Shit. She hadn't even realized she was still pointing it. She lowered the gun. "Fine. But you don't touch me." His brows flickered, and he seemed to consider that for a moment. "I'm just here to talk." Talk? They'd never been good at just talking. Touching was their love language. It had been since high school. "About what?" But she knew exactly what. "Us." How many times had she played over this conversation in her head? A million times. And every one of them had ended differently. "You didn't sign the divorce papers." "Did you expect me to?" No. The word was a whisper in her mind. "You wouldn't answer my calls," he said softly. "You wouldn't respond to my texts. I had to resort to checking in with other people to make sure you were okay." She frowned-but then it hit her. "Aunt Pam." "And your brother. I hate that I couldn't be here to check on you myself." "I'm okay." "You look good." His gaze moved over her body, and she barely held back the shiver. She'd always liked his eyes on her. They felt intimate and familiar. He ran his fingers through his hair, and that's when she saw the ring on his finger. His wedding ring. He still wore it. "You're out," she said quietly. "I am." "You loved your job." "And look what it cost me." Her breath hitched. "That wasn't why you lost me." "It was part of the reason." Thousands of women married Marines. She should have been able to cope with having a husband with those kinds of commitments. But that, in combination with the infertility and his mother...it had been too much. Weak. The word had flickered in her head more than once over the last year. "That doesn't make you weak." Indie flinched at his words. He'd always had this freaky ability to know exactly what she was thinking. It was just one of the reasons she'd believed nothing could break them. Until something had.