What if Tilly got caught in the fallout? He’d come here to have more time with her. I couldn’t put that at risk. What was I thinking, continuing to see him?
I swallowed and tucked a hair behind my ear. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much.”
“Okay,” he said, slowly. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
He held my gaze another second, then nodded.
“We’ll get out of your way,” he said gently. “Tilly’s already planning a post-dance class victory lap at the park.”
“That’s how champions are made.”
He smiled, but there was still a question behind his eyes.
As he turned to go, Lois barked once, tongue lolling, tail swishing the air.
“You too, huh?” I said. “I’m fine.”
She barked softly. Nate laughed and gave me a little wave.
“Dinner this weekend? Me, you, Tilly? We can find another favorite together.”
I hesitated, searching his face for any sign that this was a mistake, but all I saw was the quiet encouragement I’d always relied on. For a moment, I wanted to say yes, to let myself believe that everything could be simple. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
“I wish I could. I have a family dinner. Once a month. I can’t back out.”
He nodded in understanding, but I saw the flicker of disappointment on his face before he masked it with a reassuring smile. There was a momentary silence between us, filled only by the distant hum of a car engine and Lois’s softwhine. I shifted my weight, wishing I could give more, but feeling the familiar pull of fear holding me back.
“Text me when you’re home?”
“Yeah,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure what I’d say.
I watched as they drove off together—father, daughter, dog—and I watched them go with something sharp and aching blooming in my chest.
Not for the first time, I wondered what I was doing.
And who I might hurt if I didn’t take a step back and think about it before I went any further.
Chapter 28
Eliza
By the time I got home from the Coffee Cabin, the sky had already started its slow slide into gray. The air smelled like it was going to snow, but my townhouse was warm and still—except for the watchful eyes of two cats perched on the kitchen counter like judgmental gargoyles. I scratched behind Remy’s ears, nudged Linguini off the breadbox, and filled their bowls even though they weren’t empty. I moved through the motions, not sure what else to do with myself. Everything inside me felt too loud. I filled the kettle and set it on the stove, watching the burner glow orange as if it held the answers I couldn’t find. By the time the water boiled, I still hadn’t decided what I was going to do. So I poured the tea anyway. The truth was, I was spiraling—and I didn’t know how to stop.
Everything inside me felt like a tangled spool of yarn, and every time I tried to sort it out, I made it worse. I kept replaying Graham’s words at the Coffee Cabin, the casual threat buried beneath the fake smile. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was dragging Nate into something bad just by existing in his orbit.
And Tilly. God. The thought of her getting hurt in any of this made my stomach clench. Not that Graham would do anything to her. But if Nate lost the Pennywhistle somehow or had to findanother job—ugh. So much could happen. He was finally in a place where he could spend more time with her. I couldn’t be the reason he lost it.
I sank onto the couch, my nerves shot, my eyes dry and burning. I didn’t want to be alone—but I couldn’t talk to my sisters. Not yet. They’d want to help, to fix things, to protect me. And that meant charging into battle when I was still trying to figure out if I even wanted to fight.
But I didn’t want to lose Nate. The thought of hurting him was inconceivable. And that made everything worse.
I picked up my phone.
Me: Can you come over? I have to talk to you.
His reply came less than a minute later.
