I raised my hand and knocked—three slow taps that sounded too loud in the quiet night—and waited with my breath caught behind my teeth.
The porch light buzzed above me. The moth bumped again against the glass.
Somewhere down the road, a car passed without slowing. The moment stretched long and taut, my pulse thudding behind my eyes.
The door opened and the world tilted.
Selene stood there in pajama pants and a long-sleeved tee, her bare face lit in amber. No mascara. No gloss. Just clean skin and tired eyes that looked right through me.
Her hair was tied up in one of those loose, half-fallen knots, strands curling around her cheek like they were trying to shield her. From me.
She didn’t say anything.
I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t move right. I held out the bag of food like it might fix something, even though I knew it wouldn’t.
“I brought dinner,” I said, voice rough and too small. “For Winnie.”
Selene’s gaze dropped to the bag. “She’s already asleep.”
Her voice was soft. Gentle, even. But there wasn’t a trace of warmth beneath it. Only quiet finality, like a door halfway closed.
I swallowed, the motion sharp in my throat. “I—I thought I could make it,” I said. “I really did. Brody called and said he needed to show me something last minute. He said it was important, and I didn’t think it’d take as long as it did. I wasn’t watching the clock. I thought I had time, but it got away from me.”
She nodded once, barely. Her hand stayed curled around the edge of the door. No invitation to step inside. No sign I was welcome.
“I’m not making excuses,” I added quickly, my words hitching over themselves. “I’m just ... I messed up. I know that. I should’ve been there.”
A pause stretched between us, thick with everything I wanted to say and everything she didn’t want to hear.
“I was trying to be there for everyone,” I said again, slower now as I tried to catch my breath. “For the guys at work. For Brody. I was trying to be the type of person who could handle it all. But I should’ve been here. With you. With her. Nothing else matters more than that.”
The words came too fast—tumbling out like they’d been waiting all night to escape. “I thought I could do both. I thought I could make it work. And then when I saw the time—fuck, Selene. I drove straight from the station. I ran. I didn’t even think, just—I had to get here. But I was too late. I know that.”
She exhaled slowly, but nothing eased between us. Her eyes didn’t narrow. They didn’t soften. They just stayed steady on mine. Watching. Measuring.
“I missed it,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I missed her. I missed the opportunity to be there for you.”
A silence fell. One that swallowed every sound of the night.
Selene’s hand finally released the doorframe. She folded her arms gently across her chest, like she was holding herself upfrom the inside. Her expression didn’t crack, but something in her gaze flickered—like a candle struggling to stay lit.
“Thank you for explaining what happened,” she said at last. “But I think I need a little space, Austin.” Her voice was so even, so heartbreakingly composed, it took me a second to understand the words. “I’ve done this before—believed someone when they said I could count on them, and I can’t afford to be wrong again.”
My heart lodged behind my ribs as my panic rose. “Selene ...”
She shook her head—not in anger, but with quiet certainty. “You were trying. I know that. But I need more than good intentions.”
I took a step forward without thinking. “Let me fix it.”
“You can’t,” she said gently, like it hurt her to say it.
Panic bubbled up inside me. “I fucked uponce, Selene. Can’t I?—”
“I know, Austin.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and it gutted me. “I just ... I’m not even sure what I’m doing here. All I know is I have a five-year-old little girl who cried herself to sleep and looks tometo understand how I could let that happen.”
The thought of Winnie crying because of me was too much. The porch boards groaned beneath my feet. I clutched the bag of food tighter, as if there was anything left in it worth offering.
“Please,” I begged. “Just ... let me apologize to Winnie.”
