Low rolled over, putting space between us, lips swollen and eyes unfocussed from hours of kissing. Hours of kissing that easily could have led to more, but neither of us had pushed the boundaries. He’d seemed content to just hold me, and kiss, and whisper how much he loved me. It was enough for now. He’d said he wouldn’t leave again, but words were just words after all, and it would be a while before I fully trusted him again. He knew my feelings hadn’t changed in his absence, but something had stopped me from actually saying those three little words back to him. I felt them in my heart, but the words had never reached my lips.

“Let’s go now,” he said quietly.

I lifted my head to see if he was serious. “What? To my parents’ place? We can’t. You only just got back. It’s a twelve-hour drive.”

His lips brushed mine again, eliciting tingles that spread farther than just my mouth. “Don’t care. As much as I’m enjoying this, we can’t just lie here making out all day. You need this.”

“It doesn’t need to be today.”

He jumped off the bed and yanked the blanket off me. “Yeah, I think it does.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, I’ll drive. What do you need?” He opened my wardrobe door and rifled through it, looking for God only knew what.

I got up and shoved him aside, laughing. “Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?”

He dropped a kiss on my cheek. “No more than you are. Pack some stuff. I’ll run home and get mine and meet you back here in an hour.”

My breath caught at the thought of him leaving again. It must have showed on my face, because he immediately pulled me into his arms again, hugging me close to him. When he pulled back, he ducked his head and cupped my chin, his ice blue gaze burning into mine.

“I’m coming back, baby. Every time. No more running, I promise. I know what I have here. What we have here. From now on, we only run to each other.”

I nodded, a bubble of happiness rising within me. I’d never heard him speak so surely and it made my heart swell.

He was back before I was even half ready. I’d procrastinated by wandering around my apartment, tidying up and delaying the inevitable. Twelve hours suddenly seemed like a quick trip around the block. I wasn’t ready for it. Just the thought of confronting my parents made me physically sick. My stomach was queasy and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on my forehead. I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

And I stalled. “I still need to have a shower.”

Low nodded, settling himself down on the lounge. “Okay. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

A smile tugged at my lips. I loved seeing him there on my lounge again, like he’d never left. Every nerve in my body had come alive when I’d heard his voice through the door. He’d been pale with panic the last time I’d seen him, but now he looked tan and healthy, and…happy even. It made my heart full. He loved me. That part of me that was still upset with him buried itself a little deeper beneath my contentment and excitement over his return.

I dragged myself away from Low and into the bathroom, glancing in the mirror as I turned the taps on in the shower. Jesus. I looked like shit. Hours of crying over the last week had made my skin red and blotchy, and my cheeks looked hollow, thanks to the crash diet misery had forced on me. I was sure I didn’t smell that great either. And there was Low, out on my lounge, looking like a sex god. Damn him.

I let the water pound over me and waited until it turned cold before I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel. When I looked in the mirror again I was marginally happier with the reflection staring back at me. At least I was clean and smelled good, even if I still looked like I’d been on a bender. I pulled on yoga pants and a long flowy top, aiming for cute but comfy, and when I left the bathroom, I looked almost like my regular self.

“I thought you’d gotten lost in there,” Low called when I stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes slowly travelling up and down my body. “You ready to go?” He stood and shouldered the bag I’d packed and left on the lounge.

“If I say no, can we just stay here and make out instead?”

He stepped closer and tilted my chin up. A chuckle rumbled through him, making my knees go weak. Happy, smiling Low was sexy.

“As tempting as that sounds, we’re going.” He leant down so his lips brushed my ear. “But don’t think I’m done kissing you. I don’t care who’s around, I’ve waited so long to be with you, I’m going to kiss you whenever and wherever I want. Including at your parents’ place.”

“No arguments here.”

His warm breath brushed over the sensitive skin of my neck. “There are other things I have planned too. Just so you know.” He stepped back and winked, seemingly oblivious to the shiver of anticipation that ran through me. My stomach flipped deliciously. I’d missed him.

The sun was low in the summer sky by the time we made it down to Low’s Ute, the interior of the cab still warm from the heat of the day. A wave of exhaustion hit me like a sledgehammer, and I laid my head on the window as Low pulled onto the road. It wasn’t late, barely 8:00 p.m., but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a full-night’s rest. I closed my eyes, letting the drone of the engine and Low’s warm hand covering mine lull me to sleep.

I woke up with a start, my head cracking painfully on the window before I realised where I was. Still in the car with Low. Driving to my parents’ place. Right. I rubbed my head.

“Shit, did that hurt?” Low handed me a bottle of water and I took a few sips as I peered out through the windscreen. “Good morning, by the way.”

The sun was just coming up over the horizon, and dirt roads lined with trees replaced the city streets we’d been on when I’d fallen asleep. “How long have I been asleep for? We’re only about twenty minutes from parents’ place!”

He looked over at the GPS, nestled in a phone cradle. “Twenty-three minutes according to this.”

“I’m surprised you even have phone reception out here.”

“Me too. I kept thinking I’d wake you when it cut out, but so far, so good. And it looks like your parents’ place is at the end of this road anyway.”

I gazed out through the dusty glass and nodded at the familiar stretch of road. I’d driven down this road a million times. “Yeah, it is.” I bit my lip and the water in my hand trembled. Low took it from me and I glanced at him gratefully.

“Nervous?”

“That obvious?”

“You just nearly spilt that water all over yourself, so yeah. Kind of.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe you drove all night. You should have woken me.”

“You looked like you needed the sleep.”

“How tired are you right now, though?” I reached across the centre console and let my hand rest on the back of his neck, running my fingertips through the ends of his hair.

“A bit.” He tried to stifle a yawn and failed miserably.

More like a lot. I could tell just from looking at the dark circles under his eyes. He must have been awake for at least twenty-four hours now.

I raised a hand and pointed. “The turn off is just there.”

Low indicated and turned into the road that led to my parents’ place. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been so nervous. No one indicated out here; there was no need. It’s not like we had traffic lining up behind us. He’d been hanging out in the city too long.

We passed a few farmhouses before my childhood home came into view. It was about fifteen acres. Not a huge property but enough for my dad’s horse riding business and a few large plots of vegetables that never yielded anything much because we were all hopeless gardeners. There was no wraparound veranda like Low’s grandparents’ house. It was a simple, three-bedroom clad cottage, desperately in need of painting. But the flaking paint was one of the only things that still looked the same. A ramp replaced the front steps, and at the door sat a tiny wheelchair. I coughed, but it didn’t ease the tightness in my chest. Low pulled up next to a large white van that was also new. I wondered where my father’s four-wheel drive was. Maybe he wasn’t home.

Low turned the car off, but neither of us made a move to get out. We just sat in the early morning silence. The rising sun backlit the house, forcing us to squint.

“It’s early, maybe we should have stopped and waited for a more decent hour.”

“They’re farm people. They don’t get up by dawn?” Low questioned.

I sighed. “Yes. They’ll be up.”

“Time to rip the Band-Aid off then, Reese.” He opened his door and slid out, taking a moment to stretch before he walked around the hood to my door. He held his hand out to help me down, and I accepted it because my legs suddenly felt like they wouldn’t hold my weight. Low’s hand slid to the small of my back, and I tried to ignore the way my skin tingled under his touch. Even through the fabric of my shirt, my body reacted to him.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

He threaded his fingers through mine and we walked side by side to the front door. My fingers trailed over the back of the child-sized wheelchair, and my eyes misted with tears. I blinked them back. I couldn’t cry before we’d even begun.

My knocks on the door were feeble at best. But Low squeezed my hand and I mustered the courage to knock again, louder this time. My breath caught in my throat as the lock on the door turned. The door swung open, and my sister’s dark eyes and hair, tousled with sleep, appeared in front of me. She looked even tinier than she had from across the shopping centre food court, her small frame tucked into her wheelchair. Her eyes grew big as she took me in.

“Reese?”

Then she squealed in excitement. “Reese!” She gave her wheels one hard push, which sent her careening straight into my legs. Her thin arms wrapped around my waist tightly. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here!” Her face was pressed to my belly, muffling her voice. The mist I’d been trying to keep out of my eyes overcame me, and this time, it wasn’t just mist. My eyes filled with tears and I let them spill down my cheeks as I cradled her head. I wove my fingers into her dark strands and held her tight. I hadn’t expected her to open the door, but I was so grateful she had. I knew she wouldn’t blame me for the accident. She was a kid. They were forgiving by nature. Especially Gemma. But if my parents, my dad in particular, wouldn’t let me see her again, well, at least I had this. At least I’d had a few stolen moments with her. And that was worth driving to the ends of the earth for.

“Gemma, who is it, sweetheart?” My mother’s voice called from the back end of the house, shaking me into action.

I pulled out of Gemma’s embrace and knelt down in front of her, so our faces were at the same level. I wrapped my arms around her, in a proper hug, and when I let go, I took her face in my hands and stared at her million-dollar grin.

“You’re back,” she said simply.

I nodded, and over her shoulder I saw my mother walk into the room. She dropped the dish towel she’d been holding when she saw me. She didn’t say anything, though, and I chose to ignore her for the moment and focus on Gemma.

“Gemma, listen, I don’t know how much time I’ll get, so I need to say this quickly. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the accident and for not being here ever since. I hate myself for all of it, and I completely understand if you hate me too. But I really hope you don’t. Because I love you and I miss you like crazy.”

Gemma’s brow furrowed. “I don’t hate you. Why would I?” She glanced over her shoulder at our mother before looking back up at me. “I don’t understand.”

I looked over at my mother and she shook her head slightly as she came forward. Hadn’t my parents told her what had happened? She paused behind Gemma’s wheelchair as I stared at her, not knowing what to say. Why hadn’t they told her what happened? The planes of my mother’s face were so familiar. She didn’t look any different from the last time I’d been in this house. She was a stunning woman, only a few strands of grey hair giving away she was approaching fifty. My sister and I got our dark colouring from her.

“Reese,” she said, still hovering behind Gemma. “I…your father…”

My heart sank. And suddenly her face changed, a look of determination crossing her features. She grabbed the handle of Gemma’s chair and yanked her away from me.

The oxygen in my lungs went with her. This had been a mistake. She didn’t want Gemma touching me and I was seconds away from having the door slam in my face, leaving me standing out on the step like a salesman who’d tried to sell her something unwanted. She pushed Gemma and her protests behind her, blocking her from my view. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch my mother shut me out yet again and waited for the slam.

When it didn’t come, I opened my eyes. We were almost identical heights and builds, so there was nowhere to look but into her eyes. I racked my brain for the right thing to say, something that would make her understand how sorry I was and how much I missed her. But the truth was, I’d said it all before. I’d said it the day of the accident when I’d sat sobbing on the hospital floor. I was saying it again, by standing here on her doorstep. The ball was in her court. Even Gemma had gone quiet in the midst of the stand-off between us.

But then my mother took a step forward and her soft arms wrapped around me, engulfing me in her embrace. And I let her, because in that moment I felt the pain within her, a mirror of my own. The familiar smell of the perfume she’d worn every day for as long as I could remember wafted over me. A noise came from her throat that was something between a gasp and sob, and a tremor that rocked her whole body followed. She buried her face in my shoulder as the sobs overcame her, and I found myself rubbing her back unconsciously as she cried on my shoulder, my own tears dripping down my face.

“Shhh, Mum. It’s okay,” I murmured over and over as her shoulders shook and she clutched me in a vice like grip, as if she were afraid I might disappear again. Gemma looked on quietly from her chair but didn’t say anything as my mother pulled me tighter. I’d missed her hugs and her touch. I’d missed this house and the fresh air. I’d missed the love I’d gotten here.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, not knowing what else to say. What I’d done was so huge, words couldn’t fix it. All I could do was ask for forgiveness. The tears coursed down my cheeks as my hand continued to rub circles on her back.

Eventually she pulled back and looked at me with her tear-stained face. She held me tightly by the shoulders and shook me a little to get my full attention. “You have nothing to apologise for, Reese. It’s me who made a huge mistake. It’s me who needs to apologise.”

I shook my head. “No, Mum, I—”

“Stop. I should have never let you walk out of that hospital. Not the way you did. That wasn’t right. You were a child. I was the parent. All I can say in my defence is that I was in shock and not thinking straight. I couldn’t think of anyone but Gemma until I knew whether she was going to live or die. But it’s not a good excuse.”

“It is. It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault—”

“You’re right, Reese. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine,” a deep voice said behind me.

I whipped around. My dad stood behind Low, his broad shoulders in a khaki work shirt, his ever-present Stetson perched on his head. His eyes bore through me, as if Low wasn’t even there, and Low discreetly moved to the side. Dad ignored him as he inched closer to me, occupying the space Low had just vacated.

“We’ve been worried sick about you. I tried to ring you, over and over until we found your phone in a drawer in your bedroom and realised you hadn’t taken it with you. We tried all your friends, but no one had heard from you. And then I got a phone call a few months back, and I thought it was you, but you would never answer when I called, and you never called again. We just hired a private investigator in the city to look for you.” He took a deep breath, the lines around his eyes and mouth deep crevices. Unlike my mother, up close, I realised he’d aged since I’d last seen him. Was it the stress I’d caused? Or his own guilt over why I’d left?

Words stuck in my throat. I’d come here expecting to fight. Fight to see my sister and to fight for their trust again. I hadn’t expected apologies, and I had no idea what to do with them.

“I…I behaved terribly. The things I said to you…” He coughed and looked down at the scuffed wood of the landing. “Well, I’m ashamed of what I said. Gemma’s accident was just that. An accident. What I said was just in the heat of the moment. I never meant it. It took me a few days to realise that, and I’m so sorry, sweetheart. There’s been a hole in this family ever since you left. I never wanted that. I never wanted you to go…”

I’d heard enough. I closed the gap between us in a quick movement and stepped close into him. His arms wrapped around me and he squeezed me so tight I thought I’d pass out from lack of oxygen. “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.

He pulled back enough to look at me. “For what?”

“For all of it. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you to say. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

He shook his head. “What’s harder was living the last year without seeing you. Without knowing if you were even okay. I know you’re an adult, but you’re still our baby. You always will be, no matter what you do.”

I buried my face in his broad chest and let another round of tears fall from my eyes. His shirt smelled of straw and dirt, but I didn’t mind at all. He smelled of comfort. Of home. Of love.

From behind me, Low sneezed. Loudly. All four of us turned to look at him.

He shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to hold that in, to let you all have your moment. I’m Low.”

Gemma snorted with laughter as Low offered my father his hand to shake. I stepped out of my dad’s arms and into Low’s, wrapping my arm around his waist.

“Thank you, too,” I said quietly.

He nodded. He knew what I was thanking him for without me saying it. I would have come back eventually, without his prodding. Or maybe they would have found me. But he’d made it happen sooner, and after wasting a year, wasting any more time would have been heartbreaking.

“Have you two eaten? Gemma and I were just making breakfast if you’re interested.”

“I’m interested,” Low said cheerfully.

I smiled up at him happily. “So am I.”