Page 93 of Hearts on the Mend

Cassie waits for us, leaning against the doorway. Her eyes are red, and she swallows before she steps out and tries to pry Ruby away from me.

“No,” Ruby screams. “If I hold on, he can’t go. He can’t leave us like Daddy, Mom. I can make him stay.”

Ruby straightens just enough to whack me with her little fist, and it must shake something loose because suddenly my cheeks are wet.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell her. “We can still be friends.”

“I can’t lose you too, Nollie.”

I still her hand with my free one, the other wrapped tightly underneath her so she doesn’t fall. “But you have Mommy, and she’s your best friend.”

“She was yours, and it didn’t matter to you.”

“She was my best friend second to you.”

“You never kept my pebble. You always give it back. It’s special. It’s special just for you, and you’re supposed to keep it because you’re staying here with us.”

I don’t have anything to say to that. Nothing that isn’t a lie, so I just hold her weight against me and carry us both inside.

She rages around, even as I step out so Cassie can help her change. It’s not until she asks me to climb next to her in bed for a snuggle that I realize I haven’t stopped crying. The stupid tears just keep welling up in an endless cycle, and I would have been pissed about it a year ago, but now I just sit with it.

This sucks.

I’m genuinely excited to return to my crew. To head back to the life I had before my accident. To return to myself.

But I never expected to be stepping away from a version of me I never dreamed of. The one where I have a house, a wife, a daughter.

This was never meant to be permanent.

This was never supposed to be.

And yet, this is everything.

I untangle myself from Ruby once she’s asleep, then take in one last peek at her sprawled across her bed. She hasn’t quite figured out how to sleep yet, always turned facing the foot of the bed or hanging off her mattress.

She’s six, but in some ways, if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine her as a toddler. Can almost imagine Cassie rocking her to sleep, or tucking her in with a story, holding her hand as they walk to the park.

That’s part of a life I never was a part of. Another chapter.

And this piece I’m in? It’s a sliver. A blink in time. I’ll walk out of their lives after a few months with them, and it won’t hurt. Eventually.

Cassie waits for me by the door, digging the heels of her palms against her eyes before she follows me out into the hallway. “You should head out. Now. I’ll keep Ember,” she says quietly. “She’s part of the family now, and Ruby’s said enough goodbyes for now.”

I nod, because somehow, that hurts more than it should. One more piece of this life I’m leaving behind. Never been one for words, and this is no different. Except I want to tell her everything, ask her to try for a season, or if I can come back next winter.

“You don’t want one more night together?”

“Easier if you left now.”

I can reach out and touch her, but she’s still not letting me in.

“We can’t win either way here,” I whisper. “Fuck, tell me what you want to do.” I reach for her, but she steps away, shaking her head.

“Better go. Have a safe drive back.”

“That’s it?”

She retreats farther down the hallway toward her room. “That’s it. You made your choice, and I’m happy for you. I am. I hope you find what you need. But I’m not doing that again. I can’t. Take care of yourself, Nolan.”