“I did leave a note, Honey. I wrote you a whole damn page—explaining everything. I’d never just leave you. I was going to text too, but I didn’t want to wake you. It must have fallen under the couch or something. I-I don’t know, but I swear I was thinking about you the whole time in the ER.”
I suck in a breath.
“The ER?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Bobby got in an accident with his motorcycle. He wrecked his bike in the snow, that dumbass, trying to race his own shadow or something. They wouldn’t discharge him from the hospital without someone signing for him. And I’m the only family he has nearby since our parents moved to Tennessee.”
He pauses, and I can see the struggle on his face as he reins in his Badger.
“I had to go get him. I thought I’d be back in time to help you. But I was stuck there, thinking about you every second. And when I realized you thought I just vanished?”
He shakes his head.
“That gutted me.”
He steps closer.
Close enough that I feel the warmth of his body, the scent of pine and peppermint from the twinkle-lit room wrapping around us.
He nods.
“Is he okay?”
“Who?”
“Your brother,” I say.
“Yeah. Bobby’s fine. He’s a fucking idiot. But my mother wouldn’t let me drown him or leave him in the woods when we were younger, so I’m stuck with him.”
I laugh. And I snort because I am that cool—you can be jealous, I would be.
I’m trying to make the words land. But it’s all too much.
Too fast.
Too big.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, one hand rising to press against my chest. “So, you’re serious? You left because of your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“And you just didn’t want to wake me?”
“No,” he says, stepping forward again. “Because you looked so peaceful. So beautiful. And because—” He stops.
Swallows hard.
“Because I knew if I woke you up, I wouldn’t be able to leave.”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat.
It’s watery and wobbly, and maybe a little unhinged.
But I can’t help it.
“I freaked out for no reason?” I say, panic rising fast now. “I ruined us for no reason?”
His eyes flash. “No,” he says fiercely, reaching out and grabbing my hand. “You didn’t ruin anything. Not even close.”
