Page 102 of Just Like Home

“Yeah, but she hasn’t even been gone two months. You’re going to regret it if you get rid of everything.” Cole scanned the room. “Is that her wedding dress?”

His brother-in-law’s face crumpled and he nodded.

“Your kids might want this stuff,” Cole said.

No response.

“Look, I’ll tell you what—I’ll take it. I’ve got a guest room at my place, and I’ll just keep it for you until you’re ready.”

Connor wiped his face dry with the back of his hand. His lower lip trembled, but he nodded. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Cole said. “Go take a shower, and I’ll load everything into my truck.”

Connor stood, dazed, and walked toward the stairs. At the doorway, he stopped, then turned around. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

The words paralyzed Cole. He’d just been thinking about love—how it was a farce, how it didn’t exist. He had proof—first his mother, then Gemma. Heck, he could even make a case that Asher’s mom proved what he thought to be true.

But there was something in the way Connor said it, something behind his eyes that made Cole wonder if he was wrong.

Connor vanished up the stairs, and reality kicked back in. Maybe he and Julianna were the exception. Maybe they were the once-in-a-lifetime true love deal that people wrote stories about. But reality? That was much crueler.

Cole stood in the center of the living room, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. He was supposed to meet Charlotte and Amelia in just a few hours—if he intended to keep his end of the deal, that was. And now he had a whole room of boxes to clear out.

One at a time, he hauled them to the truck, neatly packing them in the bed, and saving the cab for the hanging clothes. He was on his seventh trip when he spotted a covered box in the corner. On the side, in bold black letters, were the wordsLetters from Charlotte.

He knelt down and pulled off the lid. The box nearly overflowed with stacks and stacks of stamped envelopes, all different colors, all with Julianna’s name on the front and Charlotte’s name in the upper left-hand corner.

And though something inside him told him it was wrong, he picked one up and opened it.

Dear Jules,

I know you don’t want to hear this, but I feel like I have to say it. Don’t leave the ballet. I know you really wanted the program in New York, but that’s not a reason to leave the ballet for good. There are so many other opportunities. What will I do without you? It’s not like I have a single other friend here. Truly—you’re the only thing keeping me sane.

And I don’t even want to go to New York if I have to come back here this fall and find out you’re gone.

I know you’re disappointed, and I know you said you wanted to go live your life—but is whatever you’re going to find out there worth walking away from this dream?

I mean, yes, you’re talking about things I’ve never done, so maybe there is something about it that I don’t understand. I mean, you want to find true love and settle down and have kids, and I’m a girl who has never even gotten flowers from a guy. Plenty of bouquets have been delivered to my dressing rooms over the years, but none have ever been from anyone who didn’t want something from me.

What would it be like to have a boy bring me flowers just because he wanted to make me smile?

I’ll never know. And I guess a part of me gets it—why you’d trade ballet for the possibility of that excitement. But it feels so premature. So permanent.

And what if he’s not out there? What if you leave and the things you’re leaving for don’t appear?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled Cole’s attention. He shoved the letter back in the envelope and the envelope back in the box. He picked it up and walked toward the front door just as Connor appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“Thanks for doing this, Cole,” he said. “You’re a good friend.”

“Anytime, man,” Cole said. “I’m almost finished here, and then we’ll grab some lunch. You look like you could use a meal.”

“I have casseroles for days.”

“Great. I’ll heat one up. Be right back.” Cole walked outside with the box under his arm. He reached the truck, opened the passenger side door, and set it on the front seat.

What other secrets about Charlotte Page were inside that box?

And how many ethical codes did he violate if he opened it to find out?

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