Manning kept the first dinghy he’d ever made there, tied to a stake in the ground. It was shallow, mostly off the map, and small enough for us to drift aimlessly. The woods spit us out into a clearing that opened up to a tiny lake we’d come to know well. The closer we got to the edge of the forest, the more convinced I was that Manning had lost his mind and decided to recreate the night we’d snuck out of camp, gone for a drive, and wound up in the water. Instead, I snuggled into the side of the man I knew would kill to protect me or die trying. By the rustling bushes, or the haunting hoots and flapping of wings echoing around us. Perhaps if I’d been anywhere except the place I called home, I might’ve been spooked by the cover of darkness. Blue darted through the trees but always sprinted back when we whistled for her. “I’m stumped,” I said.Īs we crossed from our backyard into the woods, Manning kept me close with an arm around my shoulders. Neither of those seemed like great after-dark activities. Usually we went back there for two reasons-to walk Blue, or to go on the lake. Manning and I had explored the woods behind the house plenty of times. I started for his truck but he pulled me around the side of the house, toward the back. “Why are you wearing galoshes?” I asked, taking his outstretched hand. This was about the man I loved, a man both tough and sensitive, determined but attentive.

I found Manning waiting at the base of the porch steps with Blue, looking every inch a man in jeans and fishing boots, the porch swing’s floral printed cushions under one arm. Buy LinksĪmazon | Paperback | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Google Play Excerpt

Our complicated relationship with a man he respects and one I don’t know how to forgive.Īnd a sprawling, beautiful home with one small room I’m afraid I’ll never be able to fill.īut I’ll beg the heavens for just one thing more. įears that keep Manning up at night as he slips from our bed. Ī home he built us on the unshakeable foundation we fought for.Ī life of laughter carved out of heartache and betrayal.īut between a trust that can’t be broken, joy that can’t be bridled, and passion that would scorch the sun, the empty spaces are becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Manning and I have what happily-ever-after is made of.

Lake + Manning by Jessica Hawkins