Silas definitely saw it. He never lets go of his phone. Caleb… maybe not yet. He avoids social media like a disease.
But he will know.
They’ll all know.
They’ll see the one version of the story that managed to go viral, and I’ll be right back where I was in New York. Standing in the middle of a storm I helped create, but didn’t ask to be dragged through.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes.
The first sob hits like a punch, ripping up my throat before I can swallow it down. It sounds too loud, ugly in the quiet morning kitchen, bouncing off tile and stainless steel.
I slap a hand over my mouth.
Another one comes anyway.
I slide down the cabinet before my legs can decide for me, back pressed to the wood, apron bunching around my hips. I curl into myself, knees up, arms braced around my middle like I can hold myself together by force.
My breath turns shallow, fast.
What if Boone regrets hiring me?
What if Sadie hears someone say something at school?
What if…
The kitchen door swings open.
“Delaney, do you want…”
I jerk, head snapping up, tears burning hot tracks down my cheeks.
Caleb freezes in the doorway.
For a heartbeat, everything stops. His hand still on the knob, his body half in shadow from the hallway, eyes widening as they take me in. On the floor, apron crooked, salt spilled like shattered glass.
He looks like someone just kicked him in the chest.
“Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”
I swipe at my face, mortified. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
My voice comes out cracked and obviously not fine.
His brows draw together. He shuts the door gently behind him, moving toward me like you move toward a skittish horse. Slow, open hands, no sudden noise.
“Delaney.”
I drag in a breath that feels like it has edges.
“It’s stupid,” I say quickly. “It’s just… coffee. I burned the coffee.” Could I be any worse at lying?
His gaze flicks to the coffee pot on the counter, which is very much not burned. He doesn’t call me on it.
Instead, he crouches down a few feet away, putting us at eye level. He doesn’t crowd me. Doesn’t touch me. Just… settles in, arms resting loosely on his knees.
“What happened?” he asks quietly.
The concern in his eyes just makes the tears worse. They brim and spill before I can blink them back, hot and humiliating.
