LILA

The driveway of the old family estate stretched like a threat under the late-afternoon sun. Cars already lined the gravel, trunks open, coolers being hauled toward the back lawn where the reunion was in full swing. Laughter carried on the humid air. Someone had already started the playlist of old country songs that always made the aunts cry.

I shouldn’t have come.

I told myself that the whole drive out here, fingers tight on the wheel, pretending the invitation had been a polite formality I could ignore. But the truth was uglier. I needed to see him. Needed to know if the heat that used to crawl under my...