Confessions from the Quilting Circle by Maisey Yates (free ebook reader for iphone TXT) 📗

clean house, she felt guilty. She was coming to the conclusion that she had been pretty tunnel-visioned and pretty selfish back then. She had claimed to love him, even in her own heart, but everything had been about her. About what she wanted. She had belittled what he cared about because it hadn’t mattered to her.

This ranch wasn’t nothing. This life that he had wasn’t nothing.

He was a good man. He had always been a good man.

He pushed the door open, wiping his hands on a dish towel, his gaze assessing. He leaned up against the door frame. “What brings you here?”

“To talk.”

“I was just doing dishes.” He slung the towel over his shoulder and held the door open. “Come on in.”

“You do dishes?” she asked.

“You seem easily surprised that I know how to do basic things that most humans do to sustain themselves.”

“Well. I don’t. I’m a terrible housekeeper and a little bit of a disaster. But I have someone clean my apartment and I have takeout places bring me food. And I am in general kind of miserable. And that’s what I’ve been facing. That I’m miserable. That I’m hurt. But I’m not untouched by what happened to me back then. That I... Josh, I couldn’t face that. Because I thought I had to make it mean something. I had to believe I was special, so I made it something else in my head. Instead of just accepting that it...that it was wrong. And that a man used his power against me in a way that he would have done against any student in my position, and probably has.”

“Hannah, I don’t blame you for not wanting to think of it that way. Maybe it wasn’t my place to say what I did.”

“Somebody had to. Because yeah, it is making me question a lot of things, but I needed to.” She shook her head. “I needed to go to Boston. I am so grateful for all the years I had playing in the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Not just because it made me a whole lot of money, and when I sell the apartment that I bought with some of that money, I am going to have enough money to live here while I figure the rest of everything out. But also because it was my dream. It was my dream, and the whole time I was living it I didn’t really appreciate it. I was waiting for the next thing. I’m tired of waiting for the next thing. The first time I was happy in a long time was when I just put everything aside and played violin in the bar. And hooked up with you. And it was because I was happy with the moment I was in. I haven’t let myself feel that for a long time.”

“Go back a minute,” he said, his expression like stone. “You said you were moving here?”

“I did. And... I’m not going to use the house as a vacation rental. Because obviously my sister needs it now. I haven’t talked to her about that yet. But I need to. So I’m going to need some form of income.”

“You’re moving here.”

“Yes, idiot. Because of my family.” She rolled her eyes. “And because of you. Because you know what’s really special? When you’re not the center of your own world. When you have people in your life that you love even more than you love yourself. When you can reconcile all that you are, all that you were. When you don’t have to pretend anymore. That’s special. I don’t want to be special out there all on my own. I want to have a special life. And that’s here. And I’m definitely falling in love with you.”

“That’s a damn relief,” he said, holding her up against his body. “Because I love you too.”

“All these years later, with a lot of learning, a lot of hurt, and a lot of work left to do, do you think that you can take me back?”

“With pleasure. With ease.”

“Then I am very glad that I’m back home.”

She let him kiss her, and she had to think that her great-grandmother had been right.

You could never go so far that you couldn’t come back home.

Avery

Neither of her sisters were back at The Dowell House, and Avery and her kids had a card game set up on the table, ready for a family game night. A family that was a different shape than it had been a month ago, but one that she was learning to embrace. That was when she saw the package. Sitting on the table, with a letter.

She opened it, and saw her sister Hannah’s neat script.

I realized at some point over the last week that this house was never being renovated for guests. It was for you. Because you need it, and this is part of our family history. Our family history was there, when we needed it, even though we didn’t know that was where we were headed. So Mom, Lark and I all agree, that this place is for you and Hayden and Peyton. And of course we got you some curtains, for your new view.

Tears pooled in Avery’s eyes as she tore the wrapping open and found red velvet curtains, almost exactly like the ones she had been sewing with. Just like Anabeth’s.

A smile curved her lips, and she saw her future.

Not what she was doing, or who she was with. If it was perfect.

Perfect.

When it was time for Avery to go and get Hayden from his friend’s house, she wasn’t even nervous. And she didn’t mind when things were a little bit awkward with a couple of the other moms who were there at the same time. They probably didn’t envy her. Not anymore.

But she was happy.

So, she didn’t care.

Because she liked her life. And that meant she didn’t need anyone to envy it at all.

That word had been her prison for far too long.

I sing because I’m free...

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