Her eyes flicker with disappointment before she hides it. “Okay.”
I force myself to walk away.
Even though every instinct in me screams to go back. To pull her into my arms. To tell her something.
Anything.
But I don’t.
Because I’m terrified that if I start talking, I won’t know how to stop.
Sleep doesn’t come easily.
It never fucking does after being vulnerable.
After wanting too much.
I stare at the ceiling while the cabin creaks softly around me.
Downstairs, Peyton moves around before everything finally goes quiet.
She’s probably asleep.
I should be, too.
Instead, my mind keeps replaying the kiss on Connorand Allie’s porch. The way she looked at me afterward, like she saw every ugly, terrified part of me… and stayed anyway.
My chest aches.
Eventually, exhaustion drags me under.
I’m running.
My bare feet slam against worn hardwood floors as panic tears through my chest.
But it’s too late.
I already know I’m too fucking late.
“Stop!” My mother’s voice cracks through the house, thin and desperate.
A sharp crack follows.
Something inside me splinters.
I round the corner—and he’s there.
My father.
Towering.Furious.Out of control.
My mom stumbles backward, one hand clutching her face, eyes wide with fear.
“Don’t—” I start, stepping forward.
He turns slowly. His eyes lock on mine.
And I know, I just made it worse.
