Because wanting to protect Chloe from hurt is becoming second nature.
Because I don’t want Rhodes’s expression to look like it looks now—not ever again.
And if I let myself think aboutthatfor too long, I’m going to have to admit some things I’m not ready for.
He turns for the hall. “I’m going to sit with her for a while.”
I nod. Watch as he disappears back upstairs.
And as I stand in the kitchen alone, staring down at my hands, the truths come anyway.
Yes, I’m going to be gone in a few months.
Yes, I can come back to visit.
Yes…I care more than I should.
I think about the way Chloe said those words.
You’re going to leave. Just like my mom did.
And for the first time since I started planning this trip more than a decade ago, I don’t feel excitement.
I just feel dread.
Eighteen
Rhodes
“Daddy?”Chloe says quietly as I shift things to the side, searching for?—
There.
I snag the box from the top shelf of Chloe’s closet and bring it over to her bed.
She sits up sleepily, rubs at her swollen eyes. “What’s that?”
“Your memory box.”
Anna started it when Chloe was born.
“What’s a memory box?”
“Your mom made it for you, see?” I point at the top, decorated plentifully with pink and adorned with Anna’s precise handwriting. “It saysTo: Chloe Marie, Love: Mom and Dad.”
Chloe traces the curves of the letters. “Did Mom like pink too?”
“It was her favorite.”
Chloe smiles. “It’s your favorite too.”
“Shh, that’s supposed to be our secret.”
She giggles.
But the truth is, I started wearing it when Anna died. It made me feel closer to her—and now…I guess I just like it. Plus, it’s a way to be close to Chloe.
“Want to see what’s inside?” I ask.
