Pops’s gaze holds mine. “Maybe not. But you did it anyway. And I’m sorry you had to.”
My eyes sting so hard it’s like salt.
I shake my head, swallowing hard. “Stop.”
Pops’s voice stays steady. “I want you to promise me something.”
My stomach twists. “No.”
Pops’s mouth twitches, almost amused. “You haven’t even heard it.”
“I don’t want to promise anything,” I snap, because promises feel like conclusions.
Pops’s gaze softens. “Sloane.”
My voice cracks. “Please don’t.”
Pops holds my hand tighter. “Promise me you’ll let people love you.”
The words hit like a punch.
I freeze.
My lungs lock.
Because that’s not about food or meds or schedules.
That’s about the one thing I refuse to do.
My eyes flick toward the living room without meaning to.
Logan is still there, frozen on the couch, pretending he can’t hear, but his entire body is tense like a drawn bow.
He’s listening.
Of course he is.
Heat crawls up my neck.
I look back at Pops, furious and terrified. “That’s not?—”
“It is,” Pops says softly. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”
“I’m not alone,” I insist, voice shaking. “I have you. I have Cam. I have?—”
Pops’s eyes soften. “And what happens when you don’t have me in the same way?”
My chest tightens so hard it hurts.
“No,” I whisper.
Pops’s voice is gentle but firm. “Kiddo. I’m not saying it to hurt you. I’m saying it because I love you, and I’m scared you’ll try to survive by shutting everyone out.”
My throat burns.
I hate that he’s right.
I hate that he sees me so clearly.
