I tilted my head back against the wall, exhaling slowly. “I know he went to rehab. Austin going in made headlines, and then a couple months later Jeremy did, too. But getting clean and staying clean . . . that’s a whole different war.”
I looked down at the blanket pooled around my legs, picking at the frayed edge with my nail, and added, “I don’t know if I want to find out, Nova. Because if heisbetter, that means hechosenot to say anything. And if he’s not... then I’m opening old wounds for no reason.”
She reached out, gently squeezing my knee. “Either way, you deserve peace about it.”
“He loved me, and I destroyed him. Leaving him the last time... it wrecked everything we ever had. I don’t know if I could do that to him again. Or to myself.”
She squeezed my knee again, a silent “I’m here.” But she didn’t know—she couldn’t.
No one knew what Jeremy and I really were.
Not even Nova.
Not that we’d ever been in foster care together. Not that we were placed in the same house, lived down the hall from each other, snuck food at night, cried quietly through walls too thin for secrets. Not that we were each other’s only safe person.
We couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Dirks. Especially not Dirks.
Because it wasn’t only forbidden, it was something that branded me. Every time I let Jeremy stay in my life, I ended up leaving him again. Every goodbye with him felt like I was peeling my own skin off. I was always running from the only person who eversawme when I didn’t want to be seen.
Still . . . somehow, it hurt every time.
“I’ve left him so many times,” I whispered. “Every time, it feels like I have one foot out the door.”
“So many times?” Nova asked softly.
I shook my head and swiped at my eyes, feeling hot, wet tears betray me before I could catch them. “Ugh,” I muttered, forcing a watery laugh as I turned away. “This is so gross. Who let me get emotional? Ew.”
Nova didn’t laugh. She leaned in, brushing her shoulder against mine. “You can always be yourself with me, Lune. Even the crying, self-sabotaging, emotionally constipated version. I’ll love you no matter what.”
I sniffled, half laughing, half sobbing. “Wow, thanks. That’s so comforting. Really makes a girl feel stable.”
She smiled. “You’re not stable. You’re Daddy Luna. But you’re mine... and Scarlette’s. Always.”
“I don’t want to sleep in the scary guest house yet,” I whispered, stretching out on the floor in a pile of mismatchedblankets. “Can we have a sleepover? Like when we were in high school?”
“Your poor foster family never knew where you were.”
“Until they got Mami’s number,” I shot back, smirking.
She laughed, and for a second, it felt like we were sixteen again, sneaking snacks into her room, watching bad teen dramas, and pretending we weren’t just two broken girls holding each other together. I’d spent more nights at her house than I ever did with the family I was placed with. Nova had always been my safe space, my anchor, my home.
I followed her through the echoey hallway and up the staircase. The house may have been bare, furniture-wise, but the bones of it? Damn. It was beautiful.
“Okay,” I said, pausing halfway up the stairs and glancing around at the tall ceilings and crown molding. “This house is bougie. Like... accidentally marry a millionaire, suburban mom-core, Peloton-in-every-room energy. We scored.”
Nova snorted as we reached the top and turned into her room. It was still half unpacked, but it smelled like lavender and the same coconut hair serum she’d used since we were teenagers.
I dropped the blanket on the bed and flopped down dramatically, spreading out like a starfish. “Claimed.”
Nova rolled her eyes and tossed a pair of pajama pants at my face. I changed quickly, too tired to care that I was wearing a mismatched set, and slid under the comforter.
“You don’t have to earn my love, Luna. You... have it.”
For a second, neither of us spoke. The quiet settled in a way that didn’t feel awkward, just lived in. I turned toward her and smiled, the kind of tired smile that came with months of holding everything in.
“You should go see him, you know. Dirks. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
I buried my face into the pillow. “Yeah... I know. I?—”
