“You’ll never be ready. And it’s not goodbye. It’s just choosing to keep living. For your son. And for you.” He let his hand fall from my cheek.
I looked out the window as the tears streamed down my cheeks. Our lake house didn’t look the same. The grass was overgrown.Patches were burnt away. And the gravel driveway up ahead had a scorched mark in the middle. A piece of abandoned caution tape blew in the wind. But my car was gone. Miller was gone. I started sobbing harder.
“You have to keep living, Brooklyn.”
“Tanner, I can’t…”
“I know how vehemently you believe in not wasting time. That you never know when life can be cut short. And all of it is short. Life is so fleeting for the living. You can’t afford to waste a second of it. Do you understand me?” It looked like he was holding back tears as he stared at me.
I thought about what he said about loss earlier. How he knew exactly what to say to me in this moment. “You’ve lost someone too?”
He nodded. “A great love. But my heart’s still beating. I’m still breathing. Life has to be lived. You can’t hide from the pain. It’ll follow you until it breaks you. You have to let it go.”
“But I love him so much.”
“I know.” He squeezed my hand. “And you don’t have to do this alone. We’re going to do this together, okay? You can hold my hand the whole time if you need to. I’m right here.”
I didn’t know how Kennedy met this man, but God was I so grateful for him in this moment. I wasn’t sure I could have done this with someone who knew me better. I needed a stranger. A very knowing stranger.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“No.” But I nodded my head.
He smiled. “Do you want me to wake Jacob? I’ll be honest, I’m not great with kids. But I didn’t think you’d want to do this without him.”
“Could you maybe carry him inside? I don’t want him to see the front yard.”
Tanner nodded. “Okay.” He let go of my hand. And then he awkwardly lifted my son into his arms. He was somehow holding him away from him, yet holding him close at the same time.
I’d honestly never seen someone hold a child so strangely. But Jacob rested his head on Tanner’s shoulder, still fast asleep.
I opened up the door and stepped out. I breathed in the fall air and smiled through my tears. It smelled like Miller. It smelled like home. But I knew better than anyone…home wasn’t a place. Home was a feeling. A feeling you got when you were with the people you loved.
I felt so small standing there.
Tanner slipped his hand into mine. “I arranged for a few things inside,” he said. “And I’ll make some calls to find someone to cut the grass.”
How had he arranged any of this? How had he known where I lived? But all the questions rolling around in my head were drowned out by the pain in my chest. It felt like I was dyinginside. Like my heart was burning, turning into ash in my chest. Miller’s truck was still sitting in the driveway. A few dings from flying metal on the back. But otherwise…it was untouched.
“It was supposed to be me,” I said. “He was moving my car the morning of the explosion. My car was blocking his in. It should have been me.”
“Your father pushed this whole thing under the rug. I had my own team out here earlier this week to check what exactly was under that rug.”
Kennedy must have filled him in about what was going on. “And what did you find?”
He shifted Jacob in his arms. “I do believe it was supposed to be you. There’s no bomb anywhere on Miller’s truck. But, Brooklyn…you’re here. And you can’t afford to keep thinking like that.”
How could I not? “What else did you find?”
“You want to know if your father did it?”
I nodded.
“I’m still working on that. You lost power that night, right? My team found all the security cameras. But they all went out for about two hours.”
“Yeah, there was a storm.”
“No one was seen on your property before or after the gap in footage. I don’t think it was a storm that knocked your power out. It’s too convenient. Someone was behind it. And until we look into your father’s alibi, I’d keep my distance from him. Because if he was behind it…he was gunning for you, Brooklyn.”
