Piper, as pale as her white sundress and the apron covering her body, stands just on the other side of the doorway.
"I wasn't . . . I didn't hear. . . not on purpose," she stutters, looking away from me and to the floor.
Regret strangles out my last breath, bringing forth a truth I'll never be able to take back. "I wish I didn't have to be here, but one thing I know better than myself is how to complete a mission. When the job is done, so am I."
I thought clarity would help me, help Piper. No secrets. I am who I am. But it doesn't clear my head; it confuses me even more. And the sadness stretching across Piper's beautiful face is a knife sinking into my chest.
If you fuck up-fix it. Justin. Again. I'm more like my father than I can stomach, but it doesn't stop me.
I grab Gus, and we run. I run away from the past, from Justin, and the girl who threatens the rules that have kept me alive.
Dear Justin.
No one ever surprised me. Not even Santa Claus, because my parents didn't play games. I knew the secret when others believed. But I was shocked speechless this morning, Daddy.
x Piper
CHAPTER FOUR
Hello and Goodbye
Piper
IF I HAVE been one thing in life, it's someone's responsibility. I started off as an obligation to parents who never wanted children. An abortion wasn't an option by the time my mother confirmed her pregnancy, a detail she was never above mentioning. To say we're not close is an understatement the size of the Sierra Nevada. They don't know about Justin or the baby. I haven't spoken to them since I packed my car and landed in Lilyfalls. Their commitment is over. The last thing I'll ever be to anyone again is a duty, a mission, a task for completion. It's time to set this fact straight with Caden, who I haven't seen since he busted out of the bakery at half past six this morning.
Cara drops me off to an empty house after we close the shop at two. At some point, Caden was here. The boxed up crib that had been waiting for Dax to assist in its assembly is complete, with a mobile hung above sheets already stretched on the mattress. Dax spent the day with Willow, so that means my missing SEAL is Mr. Fix-It.
I'm uncomfortable and hot. My back hurts, and my stomach has been cramping during the hours I've spent waiting for his return. I try to relax while baking and listening to a medley of early 80s pop-rock but nine-months-pregnant dance moves to "Like a Virgin" leave me winded and wound up. Twelve-dozen pastries later and the sun hits the horizon as the last batch comes out of the oven.
Where is Caden? I clean up the kitchen and when putting away the milk, I glance at a photo of me and Justin pinned to the fridge-a selfie he took with me hanging on his back, my lips on his cheek as a smile lights up his face. He was so happy. Emotion clogs my throat. Seeing his picture is hard; saying goodbye at his funeral was harder. Caden never had the chance.
With sinking intuition, I leave the house and walk the ten blocks to confirm my suspicions. The added activity intensifies the tightening along my torso, and I rub out the ache as I take the final steps up the hill.
Subtle sounds of summer mask my footsteps as I approach Justin's grave. Caden lies in the grass with Gus curled up next to him.
"Piper?"
His voice is rough and reaches me in a way it shouldn't, not for really knowing him all of twenty-four hours. But I'm beginning to suspect Cara was right. Something is between us. Not the panty-ripping, I-need-to-fuck-you kind of something, although that potential simmers under the surface. We have a deeper affirmation. Every step brings us closer together, testing self-imposed boundaries. "Caden?"
"Are you going to hit me again? I'm not saying I don't deserve it; I'd just like to prepare for the blow."
I smile despite our location. "Truce, remember?"
"I'd understand if you came armed."
"Fear of my muffins has you sleeping under the stars tonight?" I ask as I find my way to the ground to lie beside him.
"Not sleeping," he says, holding out a hand to help me get settled. "Listening."
"To what?"
"Everything." He rolls up on his elbow, pinning me with eyes churning with vulnerability and an innocence that remains even after everything he's experienced. War is hard on a man-finding peace with his part in it might just be harder. Coming home was Caden's first step forward; coming here is his first chance to say goodbye. "I'm sorry."
I've seen regret before-Justin's on the day he left; my father's as I fled faster than he could talk me out of leaving before his deal soured. But Caden's guilt is layered in a painful way that makes my heart hurt. I didn't think about how hard being in Lilyfalls would be for him. "You don't owe me anything. Don't stay because of a promise."