Where Forever Ends: Maplewood Falls: Book One

by Street, K.

“Um … yeah. Just one sec. I’ll go get him.”

  I pushed the door nearly closed but didn’t shut it and went out the back, heading for my brother.

  “East, can I talk to you for a sec?”

  He excused himself and then followed me to the side of the yard.

  My arms crossed over my chest. “You have a visitor.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s Molly.”

  Shock transformed his features. Gone was the easygoing man from earlier. Anger and hurt collided in his eyes.

  “What the fuck is she doing here?” he seethed.

  Epilogue

  Saylor - Seven Months Later

  Early morning light peeked through the blinds, quietly ushering in the day.

  I sat alone in the middle of my bed, legs crossed, journal on my lap and pen poised. Then, the contents of my heart spilled in blue ink.

  Dear Colin,

  I miss you. I miss you every single day. Sometimes, it feels as though I’ll never stop missing you. Two years—in one breath, it feels like forever, and in the next, it seems like yesterday. Some days, I swim; others, I tread water, but I’m not drowning. Not anymore. Part of that is because of Jase, but so much of it is because of you. You were right. You’re still here. In the beats of my heart and the sound of our son’s laughter. In his smile. He is so much like you, and I hope with all that I am that you aren’t really missing all of this. That, somehow, you still get a front-row seat to watch him grow up. Because I can’t fathom a heaven where that isn’t possible.

  You told me once that my heart was so big that there was enough room for someone else. You were right about that, too. I made you a promise, one I didn’t want to make. But your tone was so desperate, like you’d never have peace. So, I promised you anyway. It wasn’t a promise I ever imagined being able to keep.

  Until Jase.

  My life is split into two parts—then and now. But you aren’t my past. You are permanent. You are part of my always.

  I love you, Colin. There will never come a day when that isn’t true.

  All my love,

  Sweetheart

  Water dotted the page; streaks of blue swam across the paper. I capped the pen, resting it in the binding. My stuttered breath broke the silence. Salty wetness met my palms as I wiped my face.

  The time for tears was over. Today, Knox, Jase, and I wouldn’t acknowledge death; instead, we’d celebrate a life.

  I got up, returned my journal to its spot, and made my bed.

  After my shower, I woke up Knox. And, when Jase arrived, the three of us piled into his truck and headed to the little diner on the outskirts of town.

  As we walked inside The Stack Shack, Jase lifted a hand to the back of my neck. Our gazes connected.

  “I love you.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed Jase on the mouth.

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  “Mom, can we sit up there?” Knox pointed to the barstools at the counter.

  That was something else that had changed since we were here last. Not the barstools, but Knox. He’d just turned five earlier this month.

  As such, he didn’t call me Mommy much anymore. I was Mom. Just Mom. Not Mommy. Or even Mom-mee. It’d happened out of the blue, without warning. In some ways, it sort of felt like a demotion. A reminder of how fast my little boy was growing up.

  “Sure, little man.”

  Knox sat in the middle, and Jase and I flanked him.

  An elderly woman dressed in a vintage red-and-white waitress uniform, complete with a half-apron, greeted us from behind the counter. Her beehive hair was accentuated by a red silk headscarf. I remembered her well.

  “‘Morning, y’all. My name’s Vera.” She eyed Jase and me. “How about some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” I smiled at her.

  “Make that two,” Jase said.

  Vera looked at Knox. “What’ll it be, little dude? You want some coffee, too?”

  “No, ma’am. Gigi says coffee will stunt my growth.”

  Jase and I both snickered.

  “Huh. Okay then.”

  Knox looked thoughtful. “I want some apple juice, please.”

  Vera leaned in toward Knox. “I don’t suppose you want a kids menu and some crayons. Seeing as you’re so grown and all.”

  “Gigi also says you are never too old to color.”

  “Well, you tell Gigi that Miss Vera thinks she’s a pretty smart woman.” She gave Knox a small box with four crayons and a paper menu.

  “Thank you.” Knox opened the crayons and passed one to Jase.

  Vera set menus in front of us. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  Absently, I reached for the chain around my neck, my fingers toying with the golden band secured there. I glanced to my little boy and the man beside him, the sight reminding me about the infinite power of love.

  Vera returned with our drinks. “Are y’all ready to order?”

  I ordered pancakes for Knox and me, and Jase ordered some, too, along with steak and eggs.

  “Anything else?” She fixed her eyes on me.

  “We’re going to need three scoops of chocolate ice cream.”

  Recognition sparked in her eyes. “It’s you.”

  “You remember?” I smiled warmly at her. “How?”

  “Honey, it’s a small town. And some of these folks around here do some crazy things. But you’re the only one who’s ever ordered chocolate ice cream for breakfast in December.” She pulled a quarter from her pocket, passing it to Knox. “Take that quarter and go find you a song on the jukebox.”

  “Wow. Thank you.” Knox turned to me. “Can I, Mom?”

  “Sure, baby.”

  Vera went into the kitchen.

  Knox climbed off the stool. “I am not a baby.” He strode to the jukebox.

  Jase reached for my hand, rubbing his thumb along the top of it. “You okay?”

  I rotated our hands, kissed Jase’s knuckles, and met his eyes. “I am.”

  “Grief is constant but fluid.”

  I would always love Colin, but I wasn’t in love with him.

  Not in the way I was with Jase because Jase was tangible. There were moments when grief still swallowed me. Like the day I’d gone to the storage unit with every intention of cleaning it out, only I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  On my and Colin’s wedding anniversary, Jase had found me in the shower, tucked into a ball.

  “Grief crashes in waves.”

  He hadn’t tried to pull me out from under the spray. Instead, he’d climbed inside and sat in my grief with me, fully clothed. He never let me go.

  Because he was that kind of man. The kind who ran into a burning building. The kind who swam into the deep water. The kind of man who loved me from the inside out.

  * * *

  Day Seven Hundred Thirty-Three

  I sat alone in the middle of my bed, grasping the golden band that hung from the necklace I wore. Fingering the clasp, I removed the chain and reconnected the two ends. Then, I held it between my thumb and index finger.

  Memories flowed over me.

  Late nights, studying. Road trips and harvest festivals. Stolen kisses in the corn maze. Our wedding day. The day our son was born.

  I breathed it all in. Until my lungs burned.

  And, on the slow exhale, I swirled the chain into the palm of my free hand. I closed my fist around the cool metal.

  Today was New Year’s Eve, and tonight, at the stroke of midnight, a brand-new year would begin.

  The closed end of my fist met my lips as I slid from beneath the covers and padded across the floor. Lifting the lid from the jewelry box, I dropped the chain inside.

  I didn’t need a talisman to anchor me to the past; I no longer existed in the in-between. I was moving forward. To a different beginning.

  Acknowledgments

  To God—The first portion.

  The Street Squad, thank you for always cheering me on. Y’all are my favorite little corner on
the internet. You really are the best reader group ever.

  To all the bloggers out there who endlessly support this amazing community—Thank you for your support. I see you, and I appreciate you. Thank you for reading and for writing reviews.

  Mr. Street, I am sorry for the things I said when I was hungry. And when I was exhausted. And when all my personalities came out to play at the same time. I’m working with them to contain my crazy. You’re practically a saint and so much more than I deserve. Thank you for always picking up the slack. You are my happily ever after. I will love you until I breathe my last breath, and even then, I’ll love you still. My cup runneth over. P.S. Still Arby’s.

  Sunshine Girl, thank you for brainstorming with me. Please consider this your official creative credit for naming The Brewed Book. The fictional townspeople of Maplewood Falls shall forever be in your debt. You will always be my greatest accomplishment. I’m so incredibly proud of you. You’re my favorite human. I love you, Baby Bear, to the moon and back again, plus all the stars in the sky.

  My family, I love you all. Yes, all of you. Even Michael and Katie.

  Marni, I seriously have no idea how I would function without you. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, and I’ll never be able to find the words to express how grateful I am, that you’re in my life. Our friendship is one of my favorite things ever. You are my family. I love you more than you love chocolate cake. xoxo

  Crystal, thank you for listening to my manic rambling. And for never letting me take the easy way out with my characters. So many of the swoon-worthy scenes are on these pages because you forced me to dig deeper. You push me to be better, and you make me laugh at least once every day. I’ll never be able to thank you for your friendship. You’re more than one of my besties; you are family. I love you. xoxo

  Marley the Wonder Dog, thanks for inspiring me that day my brain was mush, and I needed the name of a grief counselor. Dr. Marley Gold was named in your honor. You’re my favorite fur baby. Don’t tell the others.

  Jovana Shirley, I will never be able to thank you for all you do for me. You’re a remarkable editor, and you make me better. Thank you for taking my words and making them into something I can be proud of. You remind me to breathe and I’ll always be grateful.

  Letitia Hasser of Romantic Book Affairs, you hit this cover out of the park.

  Judy Zweifel, thank you for being my eyes when all the words run together. I appreciate you and your mad skills so much.

  My alpha and betas—Crystal, Dani, Brittany, Melissa, Shayne, Tracy, and Robin—thank you, and I appreciate your time more than you know. This book wouldn’t be what it is without you.

  The rest of the Quad Squad—I love you girls so much. Thank you always for the laughter and the adventures.

  My readers, thank you for reading my words and for writing reviews. I wouldn’t be here without you. I hope you have enjoyed your trip to Maplewood Falls. Easton’s story is next.

  To everyone who thinks they’ve been forgotten—Please know that, just because your names aren’t printed here, it doesn’t mean they’re not written on my heart.

  Bonus Scene

  Do you want a bonus epilogue from Jase? Then, please sign up for my newsletter, and I’ll send you an exclusive bonus scene that isn’t available anywhere else.

  CLICK HERE

  About the Author

  K. Street has been making up stories since she was old enough to talk, and she began writing at the tender age of eleven. She resides in central Florida with her husband and daughter as well as a tiny menagerie of pets, including a dog, a cat, and a bearded dragon. K is a foodie with an affinity for coffee, peach moscato, and dark chocolate. When she isn’t plotting her next story, K enjoys reading, spending time with her family and friends, chatting with her readers, and cheering on her favorite hockey team, the Chicago Blackhawks.

  www.kstreetauthor.com

  Reader Group: The Street Squad

  Also by K. Street

  The Jaxson Cove Duet

  Everything I Never Wanted

  Everything Worth Fighting For

  Stand-alone novels

  The Fall of Cinderella

  Healing the Broken

  Preview of Everything I Never Wanted

  Keep reading for a preview of Everything I Never Wanted

  Prologue

  Tucker

  Shayne laid her head on my shoulder, her baby soft curls brushing against my beard as I rocked us. It was after two in the morning, and I was both physically and mentally exhausted. Unable to keep my eyes open for another second, I dozed off, only to awaken moments later when Shayne stirred.

  “Mama?” she whimpered.

  Every time she asked for Dani, it gutted me.

  “Shh. It’s okay, Doodlebug.”

  I patted her butt and started humming the strains of an Aerosmith song. Her tiny arms went around my neck as she snuggled in closer.

  The glow cast from the night-light on the opposite wall illuminated the space enough for me to see the dimple in her cheek. The resemblance to Dani was almost painful. Shayne and I had the same eyes, but she was the miniature version of her mother. From the chestnut brown hair and button nose to the crooked pinkie finger.

  How in the hell was I going to do this alone?

  I rocked Shayne for a few more minutes before I carefully rose from the chair and walked over to her crib. Just as I started to peel her from my body, she woke up.

  “Dada, hold me.” Her voice quaked as she tightly clung to me.

  “Shh, Bug. It’s night-night time.”

  “Dada, no. Hold me. Peas.”

  “Okay, baby. Okay.” I stood next to the crib and started rubbing small circles on her back, trying to get her to go to sleep.

  Once she seemed convinced I wasn’t going to lay her down, Shayne rested her head on my shoulder. “Mama at?” she faintly asked into my neck.

  I felt her tears on my skin.

  The impact of her question struck me with the force of a wrecking ball. I’d tried to explain it a hundred different times and in a hundred different ways. Shayne was barely eighteen months old, so the concept was impossible for her to grasp.

  I tried to push the words past the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t make myself say them. I was tired of breaking her heart, so instead of answering, I hugged her closer. She wrapped herself tighter around me as we stood clinging to each other like a life raft.

  Over the last several months, for one reason or another, sleep had been an elusive mistress. Tonight was no different. I carried Shayne into the living room, grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, and tossed it onto the recliner.

  “Me firsty, Dada.”

  “Do you want some water?”

  “Peas.”

  I made my way into the kitchen. With Shayne still in my arms, I filled a sippy cup with water and gave it to her. Then, I took her back into the living room. I picked up the remote and settled us into the chair. After I covered us with the blanket, I turned on the television.

  “Cars?”

  I knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t the cartoon.

  “Okay, Doodlebug, but you have to close your eyes.” I pulled up the shows that I’d saved on the DVR. Counting Cars started playing on the screen.

  It only took a few minutes before Shayne’s eyes grew heavy, and her breathing evened out. Slowly, I reached for the lever on the recliner and raised the footrest, and then I adjusted her in my arms. Shayne’s head rested on my chest, tucked into the space where my heart used to be, before my entire world had been turned upside down.

  I closed my eyes, desperate to stop the thoughts cycling through my head. I didn’t want to think about the circumstances that had led me here.

  Back to Jaxson Cove.

  Living a life that was everything I never wanted.