“I—” My voice catches. I grip the counter, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Daisy, honey?—”
Brendon gently sets her down, his hands steady even as his face goes pale. “Hey,” he says softly. “Why don’t you go wash your hands? We’ll talk in a minute.”
She hesitates, looking between us, sensing something she doesn’t understand. “Okay,” she says finally, backing toward the bathroom.
The door clicks shut.
The silence that follows is unbearable.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, panic flooding every vein. “She didn’t mean—she doesn’t?—”
“I know,” he says quickly. “Abby, I know.”
But the damage is done.
My chest feels tight, my thoughts spiraling. Images crash through my mind unbidden — Daisy crying if he leaves, Daisy asking where he went, Daisy learning too young that people don’t always stay.
I can’t do this to her.
I won’t.
“I can’t let this happen,” I say, the words tumbling out. “I can’t let her get attached to someone who might leave.”
His jaw tightens. “I’m not planning on leaving.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, my voice shaking. “We don’t know anything. And I can’t risk her heart like that.”
Hurt flashes across his face, quick and sharp. Then it’s gone, replaced by something more dangerous: resignation.
“I never wanted to hurt her,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I whisper. “That’s what scares me.”
He steps back, giving me space I didn’t ask for but suddenly need. “Maybe… maybe I should go.”
The wordgoechoes painfully.
He grabs his jacket, his movements controlled, too controlled. “Give her a hug for me.”
My throat closes. I nod because I can’t trust my voice.
At the door, he pauses, turning back once. “For what it’s worth,” he says, eyes steady, “I meant it when I said I’m not here to disappear.”
The bell jingles softly as he leaves.
I slide down against the counter, my legs giving out beneath me, and press my hand to my mouth to keep the sob in.
In the bathroom, Daisy turns on the sink, humming softly, blissfully unaware that the word she just said might have changed everything.
And all I can think is that I’ve just proven I still don’t know how to let this love stay.
EIGHT
BRENDON
I tell myself I’m doing the right thing.
That’s what I’ve always done when something hurts too much: I slap a label on it, call it noble, and walk away before anyone can see how badly it gutted me.
