We both run.
… Or we die.
Slingingmy bag over my shoulder, I head for the door. Ella keeps stride with me as we descend the front steps to the waiting car, Z in the passenger seat.
“Promise me we’ll get through this,” she says.
“So I take the blame when it all goes wrong?”
Her gaze snaps to mine, and she narrows her eyes. “Not funny.”
I grip her hip and tug her to me, whispering into her forehead, “Todd, will you look after Gibson for me?” She laughs quietly, and when she pulls back to look up at me, I grin. “He said yes. See? Everything will be fine.”
Her exhale is shaky. I wish there was more that I could do. More reassuring things I could say. I wish I even wanted to erase the day I ever met her. I wish I could say that if I could turn back time, I’d never have taken this job.
But that would be a lie.
Because if I could turn back the clock, it wouldn’t be to erase having Ella Gibson in my life. It would be to ensure that she found her happiness, whether it was with Asher or me. It wouldn’t matter.
I cup her face and think about the first time Asher told me he loved me. We were fifteen and being separated again. We’d lived only streets apart for a year, the most time we’d ever spent together, so when I heard he was leaving, I’d sprinted to his temporary home. I was breathless and sweating by the time I arrived, and Asher was just about to get into the car.
He dropped his bag and we hugged.
He clung to me. My brother. My friend. My family.
“I love you, Gable, okay? We’re still getting out.”
I believed him.
And I realized I loved him, too—because in that moment, his happiness meant more than mine did. I hoped his next home would be a good one. I hoped he’d find a family, even if that family wasn’t me.
I guess that’s what love is, isn’t it?
When their happiness is the most important thing in the world to you.
When you put someone else first.
“I love you,” I say, and Ella’s eyes shine. Her lip trembles, and I can’t see her cry again, so I kiss her forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter 44
Guy
We don’t want to admit that this could be goodbye, so neither of us say it, but I hold Ella a little longer before I leave. I kiss her head and close my eyes and remember the first time I held her.
When Ella’s mother, Katrina, complained of stomach pains one night, and I took her to the ER. We were told she was pregnant, in labor, and hours later, we were parents. We were numb from shock because neither of us had any clue. She hadn’t missed a period or gotten any bigger—it took us totally by surprise.
We were eighteen years old and suddenly had this tiny person relying on us for everything.
I joined the academy when Ella turned one. I worked my ass off so we could give her everything, even though I had no idea what I was doing. There were nights I’d sit in my car and try to conquer the overwhelming fears I felt every day.
Was I doing enough?
Was I going to fuck her up somehow?
What if I failed?
Then Katrina died when Ella was nine, and our lives were turned upside down. Just like Ella was suddenly in our lives, Katrina was suddenly gone, and the change threw us off course for a long time.
