Page 93 of One Southern Summer

“That’s not what I said.” Hemby took a bite, chewing slowly.

Cole’s chair creaked as he shifted his weight.

“I know you have strong feelings for Avery and I respect that,” Hemby said. “And I owe you an apology because I said quite a few things that contributed to your current situation.”

“That’s nice of you to say, man, but this is all on me.” Cole forced a smile. “Even if you did egg me on.”

Hemby frowned. “Yeah, I feel terrible about that.”

Cole studied him. This kinder, gentler version of his best friend might take some getting used to.

“I’m not sure what I can say that hasn’t already been said or that you probably haven’t figured out on your own.” Hemby glanced out over the water. “Avery’s a wonderful woman and you’re a great guy. But you both have some junk to work through.”

“Some junk?” Cole tipped his head to one side. “Such as?”

“Avery’s going to have to forgive her ex-husband for leaving her, and you’re going to have to forgive yourself.”

Ouch. Cole’s lunch turned to cement in his gut. “Yeah, that’s asking a lot.”

“Do you believe that you deserve another chance with Avery?”

“No.”

“Listen, I’m the last guy who should be telling you to see a counselor or to take your concerns to the Lord. We both know I’ve got a few hang-ups of my own.” Hemby’s usually quick smile didn’t materialize. “I try to avoid those cliché Sunday school tidbits, but in this case, I think the only way you and Avery have a shot at making this relationship work is through radical forgiveness.”

Cole shook his head. “She’s never going to forgive me.”

Hemby pinned him with a long look. “I’m talking about you, bro. You have to forgive her for blowing you off after high school, and you have to forgive yourself for hurting her.”

Cole rewrapped the rest of his sandwich, tucked it in the cooler then eased out from under the umbrella. “I’m going for a walk. See you back at the house in a few.”

He strode down the beach, saltwater splashing around his bare feet and Hemby’s words repeating in his head. Radical forgiveness. That was a tough assignment. Especially the part about forgiving himself. People had shared all sorts of opinions about how they thought he should deal with the trauma of losing his sister. Even now, all these years later. But they weren’t the ones who had to live with the guilt. They weren’t the ones who’d been distracted by a dumb arcade game. He’d only wanted to playDaytona USAone more time. Kim had promised she’d stay beside the machine with the claw and the stuffed animals like he told her to.

He had scored a personal best in the game, but when he’d turned around to tell her, she’d disappeared. They never saw her again.

The midday sun scorched his bare shoulders. He shouldn’t be out here without any sunscreen on. But he wasn’t ready to turn back and face Hemby. Not yet.

Even if there had been plenty of truth and wisdom to glean from his best friend’s words.

Cole stopped and planted his hands on his hips. Chest heaving, he faced the ocean, letting the incoming wave break across his shins. He had grown weary of hauling the guilt around like an overstuffed suitcase with a broken handle. And he wanted to believe that forgiveness was possible. Just like he wanted the women he helped rescue to step out in faith and seize their fresh starts.

If they had the courage to walk in freedom, why couldn’t he?

“Where would you like the side table?” Greer mopped the sweat from his brow then gestured to the last piece of oak furniture he’d helped carry in from the moving truck.

“Between the armchairs, please.” Avery carried the groceries into the kitchen. She had found a beautiful townhouse for rent in the same neighborhood where Pax and Trey had moved last month. A charming community park separated their front doors. Mama had warned her that might be a bit too close, but Avery was determined to try. For the sake of their children. Hayes and Addison couldn’t go back and forth independently, obviously, but she hoped this was the first of many steps toward forging a more peaceful co-parenting arrangement.

Before she’d signed the lease and put down any money, she’d met with Trey and Pax over coffee. Trey had offered a heartfelt, genuine apology. It hadn’t been an easy conversation. He and Pax had been united in their earnest quest to seek her forgiveness. She’d wrestled with lingering bitterness. Maybe some part of her always would. But by the end of their time together, she’d been able to forgive them.

“We have more groceries.” Mama, Julene and Harper followed her inside then set the bags down on the hardwood floor beside the island.

“This is so cute.” Julene straightened then ran her hand over the cabinets, which were painted a soothing shade of sage green. A basic subway tile backsplash in classic white, stainless steel appliances and modern brass lighting made for a bright, appealing space. The large window over the sink that faced the park was the kitchen’s best feature, in her opinion.

“I’ll make up your beds if you show me which box has the sheets,” Mama offered.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Avery unpacked the groceries that needed to be refrigerated first. “Y’all already helped us move.”

“But the kids are going to be here soon,” Mama said. “Don’t you want to feel settled?”

---