“College was your thing,” I say evenly.
“That wasn’t what I asked.” She steps closer, forcing the proximity. “Why didn’t you come see me?”
Mrs. Dottie clears her throat. “Smile, children.”
We paste on polite expressions. Underneath, something cracks. I guide Sadie through another turn.
“You were building a life,” I say quietly.
“With who?” she fires back. “Books?”
“With people who weren’t me.”
Her breath stutters.
“That’s the point,” she says. “You didn’t even try.”
I stop mid-step. The music keeps playing but we’ve frozen in the center of the floor.
Mrs. Dottie frowns. “Flow, flow!”
I ignore her. Sadie looks up at me, eyes blazing now.
“You didn’t call. You didn’t visit. You didn’t show up.”
My jaw tightens. “You wanted out.”
“I wanted more.”
“I didn’t fit in thatmore.”
“You didn’t even ask.”
The truth claws up my throat. I step closer.
“So you want the answer?” I say low enough that only she can hear.
“Yes.”
My hand slides firmly around her waist again. “If I saw you building a life without me,” I tell her, voice steady but tight at the edges, “I wouldn’t have survived it.” She stills and the words hang between us. “I didn’t want to watch you outgrow me.”
Her mouth parts. “You think I would’ve?”
“You already were.”
Her grip on my shoulder loosens.
“I was figuring out who I was,” she says.
“And I was figuring out how to let you.”
The music slows into a softer tempo. Mrs. Dottie beams, assuming we’re acting.
We aren’t.
Sadie searches my face. “You thought I’d forget you.”
“I thought I’d ruin it for you.”
