The house was quiet. Empty. Sad.
Slade headed out, walking toward the river. He cut through the park where Mayor Larry did his morning yoga and found himself on the path that followed the river upstream. He’d always liked this part of the Harmony River best. There were fewer houses, fewer people, fewer distractions. He could think.
And he did. He thought about his daughters’ smiles, their laughter, their hugs. The first time Evy took them away his heart had dragged behind his heels for nearly a year. This time, his heart might never recover. But...he would grow a callus because that was for the best. Children needed to trust their parents wouldn’t let them down when life got rocky.
The land on either side of the river rose until forty-foot cliffs framed the river’s progress instead of low, gentle banks. When he reached a bluff overlooking a bend in the river, he stopped. He could see a quarter mile each way. Empty pastures lined the river here, bordered by blackberry brambles, the fruit heavy on the vines. He sat beneath an oak tree and swung his legs over the edge of the rocky bluff. Below him, the river eased past several boulders, uncaring of Slade’s emotional burdens.
The day was getting hotter. He rolled up his sleeves, grateful of the shade the oak provided. A breeze would be nice.
A small lizard scurried close, tilting his head this way and that, as if trying to find the best way to look at him.
Slade could relate. He was trying to find the best way to look at himself, too.
His friends and Christine thought he could just wave off his horrendous mistake and move on with his life. They didn’t understand that he deserved to pay for his poor judgment every day for the rest of his life.
He brought to mind Christine’s vivacious smile, the all-in approach she used to attack an overwhelming workload, the soft feel of her hands on his skin, the warmth of her lips on his scar.
In another life, he would have given his heart to her completely. He would’ve been down on his knees every day trying to prove to her how much he valued and treasured her. He would’ve been that man she wanted—lending her strength when she needed it, loving her despite vineyard-torn T-shirts and wine-stained hands. He’d love her for the talented, strong, optimistic woman she was and the beautiful woman she was on the inside. He’d—
The ground beneath him rumbled.
Earthquake.
The earth cracked and shifted without warning, crumbling his bird’s-eye perch. For one heartbeat, Slade seemed to hang in mid-air. He lunged for a tree root as the rocks and dirt he’d been sitting on rained through the air, showering the boulders forty feet below him.
Christine.
She’d think he committed suicide. She’d think he didn’t love her or the girls enough to live.
He clung to the rough wood, trying to find purchase with his feet, trying to ignore the panic-induced rush of adrenaline and the mind-numbing spike of fear.
The girls... Evy would win, tainting their memories of him.
I don’t want to die.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BY THE TIME Slade got home, he was dirty, tired, and thirsty.
His friends were waiting for him on his front porch. The same usual suspects from the night before, minus Christine.