Chapter 13: The Porch

Hallie's POV

My grandfather's lake house was a mile down the road, and I walked every step of it in my bare feet.

I had owned it for two years and never once come back.

The key was where he had always kept it, on a nail inside the hollow porch post.

I let myself in, found his gray wool blanket on the sofa, and carried it out to the porch in my green gala dress.

The lake lay black below the steps.

I sat on the top one and pulled the blanket over my knees.

My feet were cut in two places from the gravel, and I did not care.

I stared out at the dark posts of the porch railing.

I wanted to be angry at him, and I could not make it stay.

For three years I had believed he refused me.

That was false, and the true version hurt in a new place.

At three in the morning I saw headlights on the road.

They came slowly, and they stopped at the end of the drive.

The engine cut off, and the lights went out.

Nobody got out of the car.

I knew the car.

I sat on the step for a long minute with my heart going hard.

Then I stood up, wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, and walked down the drive.

The gravel bit my feet again, and I let it.

I opened the passenger door and got in.

Benedict sat with both hands on the wheel and his eyes straight ahead.

He had not changed out of his suit.

The ring was still on the dashboard where I had left it.

"You followed me," I said.

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