“April, wait!” He ran ahead of me, hopping up onto my porch and spreading his arms out, like I wasn’t allowed on it. “I’m sorry. You were always better than me at putting my thoughts into words. And I’m still working things out in my head. But I—I have something I need to say to you.” He frowned. “I just don’t know exactly what it is yet.”

I stayed where I was, two steps below him. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

I shifted my weight to one hip, wishing I didn’t find his frown so adorable. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

He looked relieved. “Thanks.”

“So what are you trying to work out?”

“Well, it starts with Virgil. He’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, no! Is he okay?”

“Yes and no. He’s got congestive heart failure, and they’re worried about a stroke, but he was able to have a conversation with me—sort of.”

“Is that why you’re back in town?”

He hesitated. “Also yes and no. It’s the reason my head told me to get on a plane, but I think there were other reasons too. Reasons I wasn’t ready to admit.”

Gooseflesh swept across my back, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t going to put words in his mouth tonight. He was on his own.

“Aren’t you going to ask what the other reasons are?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Okay. Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is hard. Words are hard.”

“Yep.”

“The other reasons are about you. And kind of about Sadie and maybe even about my dad and David and possibly the Central High School baseball team—”

“Okay, focus.” I held up one hand. I couldn’t help it. “What do all those people mean? What do they have in common?”

He came down the steps and took me by the shoulders. “They’re family to me. They feel like family.” His hands slid into my hair. “You feel like family to me.”

Oh, how I loved his words. They were like hot chocolate sauce over vanilla ice cream, and they melted something inside me. But I had to be tough. “So what? So you’ve realized family is more than blood. What now?”

He frowned again, taking his hands off me. “Okay, give me a second. Maybe it’s not just that I’ve realized you feel like family. Because Sadie has always been family, and I’ve lived apart from her since I was eighteen. It’s something more.”

My pulse kicked up. I bit my lip.

He struggled with what he wanted to say for a full fifteen seconds, so long that I was tempted to prompt him with words. Had he missed me? Was that it?

“It’s home,” he blurted.

“Home?”

“Yes.” He looked relieved to have found the right words. “That night at dinner, you said this thing, and I guess it must have stayed in the back of my mind. You said home wasn’t a place.”

“I did?” I tilted my head. “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t say it wasn’t a place. But you said something about it being the feeling that you know you belong somewhere. You miss it when you’re gone. You’re the most you at home.”

“Okay . . .”

He took me by the shoulders again. “Sorry, I’m bad at the no-touching thing. But that’s what it is. When I’m with you, I know where I belong. I never want to be anywhere else. I miss you when you’re not there. I’m the most me when I’m with you—because you’re the only one who sees the real me.” He took a breath. “Wherever you are is home to me. And I don’t want to leave home again.”

My throat had been tight ever since he’d started talking, and now it threatened to close completely. Which was fine because I didn’t know what to say anyway. Thank goodness I was holding onto my keys and bag, because if I hadn’t had something to clutch, I might have thrown my arms around him or let him kiss me—and I needed to take it easy this time.

“Did I say it wrong?” Tyler’s expression was concerned.

I smiled and shook my head, trying to swallow.

“What’s the matter? Why aren’t you talking?”

I fanned my face as my eyes teared up.

“Oh.” He looked relieved as he squeezed my upper arms. “I wish I could hug you.”

“A hug might be okay,” I whispered, desperately trying to avoid melting down in front of him. Or blowing up. Or giving in.

He wrapped me up in his warm, strong embrace, and I pressed my cheek against his chest, allowing myself a small moment of comfort. Maybe he meant it this time. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he would stay.

But he’d have to work to win back my trust—and this time, we were taking it slow.

When I felt certain a breakdown of some sort was not forthcoming, I stepped back from him, pushing against his chest. “Okay. I need to say a few things. I’ve missed you too—so much I’ve cried more in the last ten days than I did in all of middle school, and I cried a lot in middle school.”

He pressed his lips together and braced himself, like he knew what was coming.

“I beat myself up every single night, wondering if I’d imagined the things you said, the plans we’d made, the way you looked at me. The things you said to me right before you left stuck—I thought maybe I made up this idealized version of you in my head. But I didn’t, Tyler.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. Everything was real. It’s always been real between us.”

I felt the ground giving way beneath my feet and stood taller. “But I don’t trust you yet. If you’re serious about what you’re saying here tonight, you’re going to have to prove it to me.”

“Of course. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

I shook my head. “Nope. It can’t work like that. I’m no longer writing your essays, Tyler. You have to figure this out.”

Inhaling, he squared his shoulders. “Okay, I can do that. I think.”

“I think you can too.” I softened a little.

“Sadie flew out to see me over the weekend. Surprised the hell out of me.”

“Why’d she do that?”

“She claimed she was worried about me, because I hadn’t answered any of her calls or texts, but I think it was mostly to tell me I was being an idiot.”

“Sisters are good for that.”

“Well, she was right. I left here thinking it was the right decision for everyone, but I was more miserable and lonely each day. And I don’t want that to be the rest of my life—not when so much more is possible. Anyway, I went right to the hospital after I arrived, but something Virgil said made my brain explode, and I realized I needed to see you right away.”

“What did he say?”

“It was something simple, but it reminded me that the things I loved and respected most about my dad weren’t about baseball. They were about family.”

I smiled. “Virgil is wise.”

“Virgil is wise.”

We stood looking at each other for a moment, and I knew I’d better get inside—alone—before my resolve not to kiss him weakened. “I should go in.”