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morning.

Whoever was out there would have to deal with disappointment. I wasn’t in the mood for company. The knocking turned into banging. “Alexander Prescott!” My sister’s voice rattled the windows. “I know you’re in there!”

Cursing under my breath, I stood, stormed through the house, and yanked open the door. “Go away.”

Izzy pushed past me. “Nope. Also. Wow.” She waved a hand under her nose. “When was the last time you showered? You’re ripe.”

I sniffed an armpit and recoiled as my sister greeted a wiggling Morgan. “Welcome to depression station. We specialize in dark rooms, listless stares, and a general feeling of hopelessness. I’d offer you something to drink, but that’s too much work.”

Izzy stood and held out a cup of coffee and a bag from Sweet Stuff. “Good thing I brought the drink to you. And some genius nuggets.” She regarded me like a venomous snake, just as likely to bite her hand as I was to accept the gifts.

I took the coffee and avoided the jellybeans. They reminded me too much of Evie. Izzy dropped the bag on the coffee table, then yanked open the curtains covering the picture window in the living room. I flinched away from the light, fighting the urge to hiss, while covering my poor, watering eyes. The sun glinted off a brilliant January day, a fresh batch of fallen snow glittering in the yard.

“Oh, Alex.” Izzy sighed my name, her voice dripping with pity as she stared at me in the light. “I had no idea it was this bad.”

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly self-conscious as I looked down at the sweats I’d put on…how many days ago? “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. The guys are worried about you. I’m worried about you. Mom’s worried about you.”

“I miss Evie more than I thought I would.”

Izzy’s face hardened. “Yeah, well, you have a funny way of showing someone you care.”

I hadn’t told Izzy why I pushed Evie away. I hadn’t told her the choice was breaking me. That I’d done what I did to keep from being a repeat of Mom and Dad. Why bother? It wouldn’t change things. Evie was still better off without me.

“Have you heard from her?” I asked. The neediness in my voice betrayed me. I cleared my throat and turned away.

“I have. And let me tell you, you did a number on her. It says a lot about how much you mean to me that I’m here at all after how you behaved.”

“Is she okay? Where is she?” I shuffled toward my sister, eager for even a sliver of information.

Izzy frowned, her intelligent eyes narrowing as she studied me intently. “She’s writing. For what that’s worth.”

The smile that stretched my face almost hurt. “That’s wonderful!”

“She even said she might submit it to an agent when it’s done.”

I dropped onto the couch, so overwhelmed with emotion I didn’t feel like I had the strength to stand. “Tell her to do it. Don’t let her back away. I’ll call my agent…wait, what genre is she writing? It doesn’t even matter. I’ll still call my agent because I’m sure she knows someone who will want this book…”

I glanced at Izzy, who regarded me like she’d stumbled across a strange, new lifeform. “I’m not sure getting her published is the kind of atonement you need to make.”

I waved the statement away. “It’s the least I could do.”

“No. The least you could do is treat her with kindness and respect. You know, be the kind of man I thought you were instead of the douchebag you turned out to be.”

I recoiled. “You’re out of line.”

“No. You’re out of line. You’ve been so different lately. First, you act like you’re falling head over heels for this woman, and we were all so surprised. Happy, but surprised. Then, out of the blue, you turn on her and basically say you’ve been using her the whole time—which doesn’t sound like you. At all. And now, you’re wallowing in a month’s worth of Mike’s bags and burger wrappers, talking about getting Evie published.” Izzy paced toward the door. “I don’t know this version of you.”

“Or maybe you never really knew me at all.”

Her jaw dropped. “I stopped by to tell you it was time to get your life together. You messed up. Big. It’s time to own it and move on. But, now I think I’m here to tell you you’re being a particular kind of asshole. Maybe you’re more like Dad than I wanted to admit.” She yanked open the door. “Enjoy the jellybeans,” she said, then disappeared into the blinding day.

Chapter Forty

Evie

Amelia’s doorbell rang and I looked up from my laptop.

Fifty chapters.

Eighty-seven thousand words.

All in a few months.

I’d never written so fast, but the story was pouring out of me. It felt like healing. Like growing. Like finding myself again and realizing I was kind of a badass all along.

With a sigh, I stood, crossing the small apartment in a few steps. I’d meant to sell the house in Wildrose Landing as quickly as I could and move out of Amelia’s living room, but I couldn’t bring myself to put it on the market.

At first, I blamed it on the season. No one buys a house in winter.

Then, on the book. I was too busy to focus on selling the place.

But the truth was, I was scared. Scared to think about my time there. To process how quickly I fell in love with someone who didn’t feel the same. Or maybe just scared to close the door on that brief time in my life. Whatever the reason, the time had come to move on. As soon as I finished the chapter I was working on, I’d contact a real estate agent and put Sugar Maple Hill on the market.

I opened the door to an annoyed young man. “I need you to sign for this,” he said, thrusting a box into my hands and holding out a digital doohickey. I scribbled my name on the device,

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