Chapter 1
Emery
Everyone in this town remembers us before they remember themselves.
Colt Longwood and me. Bare feet on hot pavement. Shared lunches. Fingers brushing like accidents that weren’t accidents at all. We grew up assuming we’d grow old together because no one ever told us we wouldn’t.
The night everything changed didn’t feel dangerous. It felt inevitable. Like we were only doing what we’d always been doing—choosing each other. Colt’s hands were warm, his voice steady in my ear, promising me a future he hadn’t realized already had an expiration date.
He left the next morning.
I told myself he’d call. That college camp would end and he’d come home loud and smiling, like always. Instead, two weeks later, I was staring at a plus sign in a pharmacy bathroom, my palms flat against the counter, my reflection already looking older.
I tried to tell him.
Voicemails went unanswered. Texts stayed unread. Then the news articles started popping up—local star rising fast,NFL potential,the pride of our hometown. And just like that, Colt Longwood disappeared from my life as cleanly as if he’d never been in it at all.
Hudson came into the world at 3:17 a.m. on a rainy Thursday. I was alone when he cried for the first time, his small body pressed to my chest, his eyes opening like he already knew this world would ask too much of him.
He has his father’s eyes.
I never say that out loud.
Raising him here wasn’t easy. People look at you differently when you’re the girl who got left behind. I learned how to nod through the whispers, how to carry groceries and pride at the same time. Hudson made it worth it. Every sleepless night. Every sacrifice. Every time my heart tightened when a football game came on TV.
Then Colt’s dad died.
I heard before I saw him. The town buzzed in that way it does when something tragic finally breaks the monotony. When I stepped out of the grocery store and saw him across the parking lot, my breath caught like I’d run headfirst into the past.
He looked older. Sharper. Like the world had shaped him into something expensive and distant.
And then he saw Hudson.
I felt it before I saw it—the way his steps slowed, the way his eyes followed my son like he was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. Hudson tugged on my hand and asked for ice cream, blissfully unaware that his existence had just rewritten someone else’s entire life.
After that, Colt was everywhere.
At the diner. The park. His father’s grave. Our eyes met more times than they didn’t, each look heavy with words neither of us dared to say. I could see the recognition settling in, the realization blooming slowly and painfully.
He left chasing a dream.
I stayed building one.
And now he’s back, standing in my hometown with regret in his eyes, watching the life he walked away from laugh and breathe and call me Mom.
I don’t know what he wants.
But I know what I won’t give him easily—my forgiveness, my heart, or my son.
Some choices change you forever.
And some ghosts don’t stay buried, no matter how far you run.
