I went around back and found an unlocked window. I climbed in with no small amount of noise and roamed the empty house while an imaginary real estate agent took me from room to room.
And here is the pool where you’ll be able to swim without fear.
And here is the garage where he’ll tinker with old junkers, happy and safe.
And here is the kitchen where he’ll cook or you’ll call for takeout.
And here is the dining room where you’ll sit and eat together and talk about your day.
And here is your office where you’ll write.
And here is your bedroom where you’ll spend your nights, tangled and sweaty, his arms around you to keep the cold away.
A strangled laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob erupted out of me.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered to the empty house. “I’ll take it.”
A week later, it was time to say goodbye to Miller.
We met him at the Shack—Violet, Shiloh, Ronan, and myself—under a cold gray sky, no one saying much but all of them shouting volumes at me with their eyes. Pity, mostly, I thought as I sipped from my flask that had become glued to my hand. Pity that I’d never been able to bring River to the bonfires and sit in front of the flames with his arms around me the way they all did.
The way they did that day.
Violet cuddled against Miller. Shiloh sat with her back to Ronan, his tatted arms draped around her protectively. I sat alone, nursing my vodka.
It’s a catch-22, I thought, watching Miller absently kiss Violet on the top of her head.
I want River here with me, but he can’t be here because of me.
I was the problem inherent in the solution and always would be.
Finally, the sun sank, and Miller had to catch a plane to Los Angeles.
Shiloh hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Be safe. Do good.”
I staggered to my feet and hugged him tighter and longer than I should have. When I let go, I wagged a finger in his face.
“If you ever need anything and I hear that you didn’t ask me first, I will personally hunt you down and kill you.”
Miller smiled a little. “I don’t need anything but for you to take care of yourself, okay?”
“Me?” I snorted. “I’m a paragon of good life choices.”
“My ass.” He frowned as if a sudden thought came over him and threw his arms around me again. “I mean it. Take care.”
“Careful, Stratton, or I’ll have to assume you’re in love with me.”
Because I’m in love with you and Ronan and He Who Shall Not Be Named…
Violet and Miller left, and I sat back down heavily in my seat in front of the dying fire.
Ronan and Shiloh were talking privately—but I felt their eyes on me—then he left her to stand in front of me, feet planted, arms crossed.
“Do you practice glowering in front of a mirror? Because…” I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger and clucked my tongue. “Nailed it.”
“What’s the plan, Parish?”
“To finish this drink, watch the sunset, and then go home.”
“And after that?”
“Gay Paree, my friend.” I tilted my flask. “I intend to make sure it lives up to its name.”
“When?
“As soon as my payout comes in. Any day now.”
Ronan drew his hand down his lips and squatted on his heels. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
I put my hand to my chest, affronted. “Moi?”
“I’m fucking serious,” Ronan said, his voice low and dangerous. But not to me. He’d destroy anyone who hurt me, God love him. But big, tough Ronan was helpless against my demons too.
I patted his hand. “I’m going to be okay. I promise. I’ll be free.”
“And River?”
“He’ll be fine too. Trust me.”
Ronan studied me with flat gray eyes, then sighed and got to his feet. “I’ll see you before you go?”
No chance. I could only say goodbye to him now if I pretended it wasn’t goodbye.
“Absolutely.”
Ronan nodded and joined Shiloh. She smiled gently and waved. I held up my flask and watched my best friend disappear around the huge boulder that gave the Shack its protection from the outside world.
I sat for a long while after. The sun was a burning sliver sinking into the deep when my phone rang, jarring the perfect quiet. I fished it out of my pocket to read an international number.
“Hello?”
“Holden Parish?” asked a thick French accent. “This is Monsieur Bernard.”
“Bernie. How’ve you been, old chap? I hope you’re calling with good news.”
“Indeed.” He sniffed. “I have received proof of your graduation from Central High School in Santa Cruz and informed your parents. Mr. and Mrs. Parish have, as per the agreement, released your inheritance to you.”
“And?”
“And…?”
Did they ask about me? Do they send their regards? Are they proud…?
“What else?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Bernard said. “I can give you the details of your investments, assets, and holdings, but I prefer not to do so over the phone—”
“I meant, is that it? You spoke with them and told them I graduated.”
“Well…yes. As per—”
“The agreement.” The one in which I specifically requested they never talk to me again. I should’ve been glad they stuck to it, but as my parents, they weren’t supposed to.
“How much?” I asked, blinking hard.
Monsieur Bernard cleared his throat delicately. “You want
