Page 47 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Her dirty blonde hair is darker. Longer, too. She’s wearing light makeup and a comfortable-looking blouse with trouser pants.

This.

This is the real Evie.

She probably doesn’t feel the need to dress up for her husband’s approval anymore. The man loved his suits, and he requested nothing less than fancy dresses and heels from Evie.

She looks radiant.

Free.

Her skin is sun-kissed and laugh lines are starting to form around her eyes.

I wish I’d gotten to know that version of her sooner. Not that I’m blaming her for being absent from my life after her son took the music industry by storm.

I get that she had a lot to juggle between traveling with Kane full time and attending a bunch of court hearings to contest her late husband’s will.

To think she ended up dropping the whole thing after Kane got famous. She and Kane didn’t need that man’s money anymore.

All in all, I think Evie did the best she could, considering the circumstances. She sent me and Gray presents and called us every year for our birthday.

She’d also FaceTime us on Christmas and send us cards filled with love and promises to come visit soon.

But then Gray was murdered.

And while it should’ve brought us closer, it had the opposite effect.

I think Evie felt guilty about not being in his life much after Kane became a singer, and deep down, I think Mom resented her for it, too—although you’d have to torture it out of her.

Funny enough, looking at the smile on my mom’s face now? You would never suspect a thing.

“Come in, come in.” Evie steps aside. My mom’s barely stepped foot inside the house before Evie traps her in a hug. “I’m so happy you took me up on my offer, Lil. Thank you so much for coming.”

“Of course. Thank you for inviting us,” Mom replies, returning Evie’s embrace.

I should be focused on the adorable reunion happening before me, but all I can do is glance around the foyer.

Everything is different.

The color of the walls, the chandelier, even the floors. They installed purple wallpaper and replaced the gorgeous wood flooring with carpet.

Oh, and a lot of the home decor and furniture are purple, too—the sofa in the corner, the vase on the nightstand, the wall art.

So. Freaking. Purple.

If Evie were to tell me they’d torn the house down and built another one from scratch, I’d probably believe her.

“Oh, Hadley.” Evie’s eyes become misty when she turns to look at me. “You look so beautiful, honey. Come here.”

My godmother’s arms are around me before I know it.

“God, I’ve missed so much,” Evie whispers mid-hug, and my heart constricts in my chest.

Yes, you have.

I keep my thoughts to myself, withdrawing from the hug before she does.

Okay.