His Broken Promise, My New Beginning

Morto

stood there in the silent, carpeted hallway outside Kingston's office, the cold brass of the doorkno

do it

red at the polished wood grain, seeing the reflection of a girl I barely recognized-a ghost, just as Finn had said. A g

nd on the plush runner. Down the elevator, through the gleaming, sterile lobby of K

d gala, Everly's twenty-first birthday extravaganza, was in full swing across town. I could picture it perfectly: the glittering

ant navy blue silk I'd saved for months to buy

, a wave of weariness washed over me. I let it ring out, then watched

is waiting. The caterers have yo

om a dinner we had five years ago. A small, calculated det

her

lease. Call me. I

Every piece of furniture was secondhand, every book on the shelf read until

s time, I answered, the strange c

sh against a backdrop of music and laughter. "Where ar

the curb. The driver's side door opened, and Jaxon Spencer swung his legs out, his worn work boots hit

l table for you, right next to mine. Your place sett

was a bitter pi

ngston," I said, my v

d ever known. We grew up in the same foster home, two lost kids who found an anchor in each other. He was the one who taught me how to chan

ce was sharp with confusion and growing irri

e to the surface. It wasn't made in a boardroom or over a fancy dinner. I

ry breath a struggle. He had been hours from total organ failure, hi

to you. As soon as I'm better, it's all going to change. No more tiny apartment, no more living on the sidelines. I'm bringing you home. A real home. We'll

years of lonely holidays, of watching him build a perfect fa

g now, the veneer of concern cracking. "Stop pl

on pushed off his truck and started walking toward my ap

ar the gears turning in his head, the panic start

e words feeling more true than anything

mises I knew were coming, I ended the call. I turned off my phone and laid

find Jaxon standing there, his brow furro

. He didn't ask questions. He just took the bag from

said as we walked down the stairs.

It was pot roast in a warm kitchen, made by a woman who had taken us in when we were kids and never s

as h

smile finally breaking throu

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