And I do mean every word.
Right now, my body feels more traumatized than my mind. I know shock might be cushioning me. But in this moment, I’m steady.
“One last thing,” Riley says carefully. “Then we’ll change the subject. Foster found the man who did it. Tank and Spike are taking care of him as we speak. He won’t hurt you again.”
I nod. I already figured as much. Bubby texted earlier to tell me Tank was with him and that men were covering my shop.
“So,” I say, forcing a lighter tone, “Tank.”
Eli gives a small, sad smile. “He’s admitted his feelings for you.”
I don’t react. I just wait.
“We all saw it,” he continues. “The other night, when he realized you didn’t miss Christmas to avoid him. When he realized we all forgot to tell you about the last-minute change. He lost it. The thought of you being alone snapped something in him. He said he was going to bring his woman home.”
Riley swallows. “We’re so sorry. We really are. We only found out around two that morning, and we were still cleaning up from the carnival. It wasn’t intentional.”
“I forgive you,” I say quietly. “I do.”
They both look relieved…but I’m not finished.
“But it wasn’t just forgetting to tell me,” I continue. “I was already feeling left out. No one wanted my help with the fundraiser. The visits got shorter. The calls got quicker. I felt like I was being left behind.”
My hands twist together in my lap.
“And that wasn’t even the part that hurt the most.”
They both go very still.
“It was knowing you all sat around that tree opening gifts… and no one noticed I wasn’t there.” My voice stays calm, but it shakes anyway. “Wasn’t there a gift for me? Didn’t anyone notice my presents weren’t being opened?”
Riley’s eyes fill instantly.
“I know you all have families now,” I whisper. “Kids. Responsibilities. I get that. But Spike is myonlyfamily. Him and Sammy.”
I look up at them, my chest aching.
“Andhedidn’t even notice I wasn’t there.”
The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable.
It’s heavy.
And for the first time since everything fell apart, I feel like I’m finally being heard.
I don’t raise my voice. I don’t cry.
“I need you to understand something,” I say quietly. “Because this didn’t happen all at once. It wasn’t just Christmas. It was slow.”
Riley’s brows knit together. Eli swallows hard.
“It was the little things,” I continue. “The way no one asked me to help anymore. The way every answer becamewe’ve got it covered. The way I stopped being needed.”
“That wasn’t...” Riley starts.
“I know,” I say gently. “You didn’t mean it. That doesn’t make it hurt less.”
Eli’s eyes drop to the floor.
