My 76-year-old grandpa spent years sewing quilts and selling them at a flea market so I could walk again — then one day, a gruff biker showed up and said, “I’ve been looking for you for 20 years.”

crying.

I wanted to comfort him.

That scared me more than anything.

“I love you,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

I turned my chair toward the door.

“Maisie…”

“I can’t be near you right now.”

The next morning, Tessa drove me to meet Cole at a crowded diner. He’d picked a booth near the entrance and stood up when I rolled in.

“I’m not calling continue reading …