Page 2 of True Fate

Fontana’s lips parted as she spun Lainey to face her. “The summer after high school? Just before we met? Lainey, who was it?”

“No one you’d know. He moved away. He had a scholarship, and I had a dying father to take care of. A community college two towns over to attend.”

Lainey hadn’t thought of Justin True in months.

Scratch that—days.

No,hours.

She’d thought of him on the plane, when she caught the scent of sandalwood. Again on the drive into town, while passing the high school. And last week, in her lawyer’s office, where an abstract painting hung—one that looked like something Justin would’ve created back in the day, in his studio over his parents’ garage.

Lainey sighed and traced a crack in the cement with the toe of her sandal. When she first started dating Alex, thoughts of Justin had surfaced often enough to leave her angry. And confused. Couldn’t she have a relationship without the ghost of one that ended years ago intruding?

Forget the dreams.

That summer haunted her nights more often than she cared to admit.

Although she’d ended the relationship, he’d lit out of town two days before her, cutting off any chance to tell him she’d fucked up, that she hadn’t meant it.

She never meant to hurt him. But two headstrong teenagers from wildly different worlds had always felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Her life had been unraveling, a spiral of instability, just as Justin’s was finally finding its footing. She would’ve dragged him down, kept him stuck in a place filled with nothing but misery.

Back then, chaos ruled.

Her father’s customers stopping by at two in the morning, begging for more time or more credit. Jars of cash hidden in the freezer. Her old Snoopy lunchbox buried beneath the wisteria bush in the backyard, filled with God knows what. When all she’d wanted was a home where she didn’t have to worry about the police showing up.

Hell, by the time she was fifteen, she could post bail as efficiently as a petty thief. A cold jar of cash always enough to get her father out of trouble—at least for a little while.

Justin’s situation had been as bad as hers: an alcoholic father who turned violent after his second drink, and a mother too weak to defend herself or her children.

He’d been lucky to land an art scholarship to Dartmouth, a real chance to escape.

He and his brothers, Ransom and Dallas, along with his cousin, Campbell, had taken off as soon as they had their high school diplomas in hand, eager to leave the turmoil behind.

As far as she knew, none of them had ever come back.

The day Justin offered to stay behind, attend the only schoolshecould afford—while they lay tangled in her twin bed, a milky summer breeze ripping in the open window—she knew she had to let him go.

Back then, she’d convinced herself it was for both of them.

Who found their soulmate at seventeen, anyway?

Still, after another relationship with a man she was fairly sure hadn’t loved her, Lainey wondered if she’d underestimated the strength of her bond with that vulnerable boy. If she’d underestimated her youthfulrecognitionthat she’d found someone special.

Grinning, Fontana snapped her fingers in front of Lainey’s face, then spun her toward the wine tent. The line curled around it like a ribbon. “How about we try merlot this time?” she whispered in her ear.

Lainey blinked, emerging from the fog.

A shout from a boisterous group of teenagers gathered in front of a window filled with paintings caught her attention, and she stepped off the curb.

Laughter and music faded as the rosy glow of the night bled into gray.

She stopped cold, staring at the sign above the door:

True Art.

* * *

JUSTIN

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