He presses his lips to my forehead, whispers, “You’re stitching our lives back together, Finn. One day at a time.”
I almost do it then.
Almost lift on my tiptoes and close the distance between our mouths.
Instead, I blurt out, “How did she die?”
He blinks.
Then again.
Part of me expects him to step back, to pull away. I know the wound of his loss has to be raw, especially after that time talking with Chloe. But he doesn’t release me, doesn’t throw up roadblocks.
Instead, he settles his forehead against mine and whispers, “Car accident.”
I swallow. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”
He closes his eyes. “I was on the road. They were driving back from visiting her sister.” His voice is heavy with grief. “Black ice and…they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
My heart aches.
Not just for him.
For Chloe.
For Anna.
For the life they were all supposed to have.
“I still don’t know what to say when Chloe asks questions about the accident,” he admits quietly. “It seems cruel to not tell her everything. But also cruel for her to know she survived when her mother didn’t.”
“Maybe when she’s older,” I whisper. “She’s too young to understand how it all works now.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I just…I guess I just don’t know if I’m doing it right.”
“You love her. That’s the most important part.”
His mouth hitches, but his smile is sad more than amused. “Maybe.”
“No maybe about it.”
That has his eyes peeling open and he gives me a look I can’t read.
“What?” I whisper.
“What about you?” he asks. “I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me.”
I frown. “About what?”
“About the phone call that upset you.”
My frown deepens. “What?”
“Chrissy told me, Stitch. And I guess…I was wondering whenyou’dtalk to me.”
“I— But why?”
A flicker of hurt drifting across his face. “You’d ask that? After tonight? After knowing?—”
