Page 103 of The Other Side

She’s mesmerized. Submerging into a trance she hadn’t expected as the country tune enters the last verse. And I decide there isn’t a sight more stunning than this.

It’s not her pretty dress.

Not her lush hair dancing under my hat.

Not her gorgeous face beneath the glimmering sunlight.

But her freedom.

Chapter 30

Callie Rae

My chest suffocates when Brant parks the Tacoma. We’re on the side of his mom’s house, and the sun is about to set.

Pastel hues spread across the teal sky above the trailer park. I fidget with my fingers in my lap just as Brant places his palm in the crook of my neck. He massages tenderly, but I’m focused on the pink flower bed bolted to the house across from us.

My throat rolls, body buckling against the leather seat.

“It’s a really nice family that lives there,” Brant offers. “Leah and Caleb, with their son and daughter. I think they’re about six and four years old.”

“You’ve met them?”

My stare is still cemented to the tiny pink petals in the black plastic.

“A few times,” he says softly. “I started visiting Momma here and there while in college. When I noticed they moved here, I decided to introduce myself. Partly because I knew they’d see me routinely.”

“And the other part?” I ask, already knowing his answer.

“You.”

My head turns to him, and I catch his tranquil gaze. With the fading daylight, his eyes are more copper than hazel now.

His thumb gently kneads my flesh when he continues. “I guess I just wanted to know there was such a thing as redemption in this life. That through all the terrible shit, if there is one good thing that can replace a part of it, maybe that wound doesn’t have to run so deep.”

Tears bud in my eyes, pricking my vision until it muddles. I shake my head, hiking my shoulders as I say, “There were never any flower beds around the house. No flowers at all.”

His head slightly tilts, his prickly jaw twitching when he whispers, “Yeah, I remember.”

I gulp thickly, returning my attention to the windshield. “It looks pretty,” I say lowly. “I like it.”

Door hinges and distant voices holler around the shelter of the truck.

“I’m sure it’s not too late. I could introduce you,” Brant suggests.

My head whips to him, my eyes gaping. “No,” I breathe, brows curving in uncertainty. “I-I wouldn’t know what to say.”

He pops a shoulder. “Okay,” he backpedals, compassion cuddling his tone. “We have all weekend if you change your mind. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

I part my lips, ready to refute his proposal. But the words never escape me.

Instead, my attention drags to the long home in question. My eyes scan the flat shape. From the white siding to the black roof. Then I ingest a long breath.

Brant shifts into me, and his warm lips press to my temple. “You’re okay. I got you, Dove.” he whispers. “Always.”

I nod, the jagged inhale smoothing out. A single tear sneaks out, but I catch the droplet on my finger.

I’m sniffling up the pending ones before reaching for the door handle. “Let’s go,” I sigh. “I want to see your mom.”