When we stopped in front of a small, neat plot, I looked down and swallowed, mourning the child who’d helped bring City into my life. “I always pictured her whenever I dreamed of what a baby between us would look like, since she had both of our blood in her.”
“Yeah.” City rested her head on my shoulder. “So did I.”
I glanced down at our interlaced fingers and murmured, “Maybe one day, some baby still will.”
She glanced up at me, and happy tears glistened in her eyes. “Maybe. I hope so.”
We hadn’t discussed particulars, like our future, but it seemed obvious we were going to stay together. One day, I was sure we’d marry and start our family. We’d get our happily ever after.
But for now, I was content with what we had, living in our two-bedroom apartment and working at Forbidden while we filled the rest of our days with each other. And she seemed just as pleased.
It’d been a few weeks since Rock had attacked me at the club and been arrested, and one week since Reese’s mother’s lawyer had contacted me and coaxed me into suing Statesburg. Life was good, so of course I worried something bad had to happen next.
But City did a damn fine job of easing my worries. She made me see how we were making it, how we were thriving. So each morning that I woke with her in my arms, I worried a little less and lived a little more.
“Let’s go to the trouble tree,” I said as an idea hit me.
City glanced up, surprise in her eyes. “God, I haven’t been there since...”
I nodded. “Yeah, me neither.” It wouldn’t have felt right to go without her.
So, after she placed a bundle of flowers on our niece’s grave, we returned to her car and drove to the convenience store that had once been my home-place. From there, we hiked on foot through the trees that seemed as familiar as they were different.
“Wow, everything’s sure grown up in six years,” City mused.
She was right. The brush was thicker and harder to navigate, but I still knew the way. “Looks like this tree fell at some point,” I added as we stepped over a fallen trunk. “Probably taken down during some storm.”
Her fingers tightened on mine. “I hope our tree’s okay.”
I cast her a glance, and simultaneously, we picked up our pace. I almost missed her impractical shoes as she was capable of keeping up with me, but then I realized we’d grown up just as much as our woods had...and it wasn’t a bad thing.
“There,” I said, pointing as I spotted the familiar bark.
“Oh, thank God.”
City rushed to the trouble tree and found the spot where I’d carved a heart with our initials inside. She placed her palm on the scar and smiled fondly. “It’s still here.”
I placed my hand over hers. “Did you ever doubt it?”
She glanced up at me. “I might’ve worried for a while, tried to give up hope for a few years, but deep inside, I always knew. This wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Because you never truly gave up hope,” I said, glad she’d been the strong one at the end and fought for us, kept us together.
With a wistful sigh, she traced the heart with her finger. “God, we were so young.”
“Too young,” I agreed.
“But that didn’t seem to matter. Love doesn’t understand time. It doesn’t care if people change. It just grows where it grows.”
“And it bloomed inside us.” Slipping a hand into my jeans pocket, I pulled out a knife and flipped it open. “Here’s to a new us.”
Then I went about carving a larger heart around the original one.
The club was quiet when I entered. I usually showed up early before we opened on Saturdays to set up the karaoke system. But my feet were dragging today. Over the past few weeks, I’d come to dread karaoke night. Ever since I’d performed that idiotic song about watching some girl singing karaoke, a horde of women had flooded the stage every Saturday, butchering that very same piece, as if I’d automatically think their performance was better than hers had been.
I never did. She never came back. And I grew even moodier.