It’s Esme.
She’s standing there, eyes wide, tears already spilling over, her face crumpling like I just hit her.
Shit.
She heard. Every fucking word.
“Esme—”
“Oh my God,” she gasps again, shaking her head like she can’t process it. “No—no, that’s not?—”
She backs up a step.
Then turns.
And runs.
“Fuck!” I shout, the phone slipping from my hand and hitting the ground as I take off after her.
“Benji?” I hear Sawyer’s voice faintly behind me, but I don’t stop.
Don’t answer.
Nothing matters except her.
“Stop!” I yell, sprinting across the yard. “Esme, stop!”
She doesn’t.
She just keeps going, fast, like she’s trying to outrun something that’s been chasing her for years.
And maybe she is.
My boots pound the dirt, closing the distance.
“Esme!” I shout again. “Goddamn it, stop running from me!”
She stumbles slightly, then keeps going.
And something in me snaps.
I push harder.
Faster.
Because I’ve already lost her once.
I’m not doing it again.
Not like this.
Not over another fucking misunderstanding.
Not when I finally know the truth.
I catch her just before she reaches the edge of the property, grabbing her arm and spinning her toward me.
“Let go!” she cries, struggling, tears streaking her face. “Let me go, Benji!”
