Page 15 of Falling Back to You

MACY:

Yes, Mom. You worry too much, but I love you for it.

I snorted, and it echoed in the quietness of the room. As an eldest daughter and a former healthcare worker, taking care of people was in my DNA. I didn’t know who I was without it. If I wasn’t needed, what was my purpose?

My phone buzzed again, yanking me from my downward spiral.

MACY:

I’m here if you need me, but get some sleep, okay?

ME:

Love you. Mean it.

MACY:

Love you double.

After years of working in the same dental office, Macy was starting her career as a traveling dental hygienist. She’d put her plans on hold to help me after my accident last year. But now it was time to face the music. My body couldn’t physically keep up with the ER shifts, so I’d had to quit the job I loved.

No. No sense dwelling on the past. Just another shattered dream in the dumpster that was Noelle Shepherd’s life.

I wasn’t about to hold my best friend back because of it. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d be jealous. Getting to travel and embrace a new chapter of life sounded amazing.

Going back to your hometown where everyone had preconceived notions and opinions of you? Not so much. Okay, maybe I was a smidge jealous. But I was happy for her, too.

I stuffed another OREO into my mouth. Rob and Laura Petrie’s shenanigans filled the quiet buttery-yellow room. I laughed in all the right places, but my heart wasn’t fully in it.

The lingering echo of a little girl’s laughter faded into the silence, looping in my brain.

If I’d had doubts before, that laugh confirmed it beyond all doubt. Khia was Cal Satterfield’s daughter.

The daughter who, had I stayed all those years ago, might have been mine.

Chapter four

Noelle

13 Years Ago . . . late July

Was it still breaking and entering if you had permission?

My hand hovered over the cardinal-red front door, weighing my options. Cal loved the summer breezes and rarely closed his window from April till October, which meant I could crawl through it without anyone knowing I’d come and gone. Spending so much time on the ice, the guy never got cold.

Lucky man. I was doomed to the always-freezing variety.

“Means I can warm you up,” Cal always said with a roguish grin, scooping me up in a hug.

Thinking of that smile—that perfectly wonderful hug—had me hesitating. Could I really do this? To him? To us?

But what else could I do? I’d done everything else, and I was out of options. Best face the music. So I knocked like I had a hundred—probably a thousand—times before and waited. Absently, I wiped my sweaty palm on my denim capris and gripped the small bag I held tightly in the other.

Was this the last time I’d actually knock on the Satterfield front door?

Usually, I blew through here like a tornado with one of the guys, tossing a hello to Mama D in our wake before we were off on our next adventure. I’m sorry, guys.

Speak of the woman and she appeared. Mama D’s welcome face beamed at me in the doorway. “You don’t need to knock, sugar. You’re family.”