Page 122 of Pinch of Love

I would drive back home and tell Maya how I got my scar.

How I knew what I wanted for the future.

Where I was today.

I would be open.

I stood and nodded, witnessing the beautiful sunset over the lake. This was where I’d proposed, but it was totally Freya. Not many women would be thrilled about their big moment being attached to the back of a cemetery, but she chose to see the beauty.

I started up the gentle hill toward the sea of monuments with legacies shortened, souls drifting away too soon, and stories never heard.

But I wanted to do better by Freya.

I could embrace my past while still maintaining a future. Ghosts didn’t have to haunt me. They could uplift me. They could be my angels.

Walking over to my truck, I climbed in and turned on the radio. It was time to start from scratch with Maya. If this was going to work, we both needed to be honest. Were we going too fast? Too slow? Who knew?

But what I felt deep inside was that Maya came into my life for a reason.

And whatever the outcome, we had to vow to make one another’s lives better by the end of it or the start of it.

As I pulled onto the county road heading back to Buttercup Lake, I let the eighties rock drift through the cab. I’d tell Maya the truth, and maybe she’d want to hitch a ride with me to get the supplies tomorrow.

Maybe it was okay to think of tomorrow with Maya.

By the time I pulled down the road to Maya’s rental, the sun had set, and sprinkles of moonlight flickered through the pines.

And then I saw it.

Police cars.

Red and blue lights flashing.

An ambulance.

My heart pounded in my chest as I veered off the road onto the gravel, barely avoiding a group of lanky pines. I turned off the truck and jumped out, tumbling in between fallen pine tree limbs and river birch branches. Scrambling to my feet, I ran through the front yard to the front door, where a county deputy stepped in front of me.

“You can’t go in there.”

My hands flew to my head. “What? It’s my house! What’s going on in there?”

“It’s an active investigation, sir.”

“Is she okay?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. It’s an active—”

“I don’t give a shit.” I always had the utmost respect for law enforcement.

I shoved my way through right when the officer shouted for me to stop.

Nate appeared down the hall. “It’s okay. Let him go. He’s fine.”

I shrugged the county officer off me and apologized as I charged down the hallway.

“Outside,” he started.

“Is she alive?”