I don’t budge, standing across the room behind the kitchen island, gripping onto the corner for dear life.
Eventually, Lewis turns his gaze back to Taylor. “Your mom’s right. I was in the area and needed a place to sleep. She was kind enough to let me crash. I’ve gotta get back home, though.”
“But…no. Come on, you can stay for the day,” Taylor says. “You have to. You’re all the way here, and who knows when we’ll see you again.”
“In the fall,” I tell her.
“Please, Dad,” she begs, ignoring me.
Lewis looks at me again, asking the silent question, but does it even matter? I already know I’ve lost. When it comes to those two, I always do.
“Okay, just for the day,” he says, then adds, “but only if it’s okay with your mom.”
My smile is stiff and strange, and my lips twitch, muscles straining until I look away. “How could I say no now?”
After breakfast, Lewis clears the table. I meet him at the sink, where he’s apparently planning to wash the dishes. I can’t remember the last time he did that.
“You don’t need to wash our dishes.”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugs. “You never told me why you changed the lock.” His eyes narrow on mine again, and my stomach betrays me like always.
I look away. “I just wanted to make sure we were safe.”
“I never liked the idea of the two of you being out here alone in the woods.”
“We didn’t have much choice, did we?”
“Now, don’t say that like it’s my fault. I would’ve sold the house, you know that. It would be enough for us to split and?—”
I put a hand up. “I can’t do this again.” My voice is calm and cordial, but he seems to sense I’ve drawn a line in the sand. I’ve spent months in negotiations explaining why I can’t let Taylor’s childhood home be sold, why one of us should keep it. Lewis had nowhere else to go, and I have Foxglove. This was the only path that made sense.
My phone buzzes, distracting me.
“It’s Greta.” I put the phone to my ear as Lewis shuts off the water. “Hey.”
“Hey, so um, got your text. What are you talking about, crazy pants? I didn’t text Lewis.”
“You didn’t?” I swallow. “From my phone?”
“Um, no. Why would I?”
“You mentioned having him come here, after…” I pause, hoping she remembers our conversation. “I told you no, butI thought you might’ve texted him anyway because you were worried.” My eyes flick to Lewis. “Because of the storm.”
“Babe, I asked you and you said no. I wouldn’t just…text him without permission. Come on.”
My blood runs cold as I look at Taylor, sitting across the room, nose in a book. “You swear it?”
“Swear. Is he there right now? Seriously? Are you freaking out? Do you need me to come?”
“No. We’re good. I have to go, okay? I’ll call you later.”
“Is everything okay?”
“We’re fine,” I promise her.
Once the call has ended, I look at Lewis. “So Greta says she wasn’t the one who texted you.”
“Do you think she’s lying?” His brows rise.
