Page 157 of Stay Wild Darlin’

I dropped my face into my hands and cried.

For my daughter.

For the friend I lost.

For the woman I loved more than anything, who’d set this entire party up and who’d been there, by my side.

And for the way it all broke, not in one big moment, but in a hundred quiet ones that finally caught up to me.

I cried until it felt like I’d been on that floor for hours.

54

Poppy

I sat at the edge of the lake, barefoot in the grass, staring out at the still water as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

It was quiet out here, and it should’ve been peaceful, but the silence was deafening.

I hugged my knees to my chest, chin resting on them, trying to make sense of the last few hours, trying to wrap my head around what I’d seen, what I’d felt, what I’d run from.

I kept replaying the moment Brooke walked onto the patio. The way everyone froze. The way Dalton stood between us. The way Cora clung to me.

That was the part that broke me.

Not the screaming. Not the history I didn’t know. Not the way Brooke looked at me like she wanted to erase me, but the way Cora reached for me.

I was her nanny. Her routine. Her comfort. I loved her—God, I loved that little girl.

But what if Brooke wanted to be a mother again?

What if I’d already given too much of myself to people who couldn’t give me anything back?

The wind picked up, cool against my skin, and I pulled my sweater tighter around myself. I felt untethered. Adrift. Like I’d stepped out of the house and into a space where nothing was certain anymore.

The worst part was that I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side of that silence.

Was Brooke gone?

Did Dalton chase after her?

Would he want me still?

I stared at the water a little longer, then opened up my phone to my favorite online group.

My fingers hovered over the screen before I finally typed:

If you fall in love with someone who’s drowning in their past, is it selfish to want them to choose you over the weight they’re carrying? Even if you knew what you were getting into?

I hit Post.

@WineMommaWednesdays: Girl, if he’s drowning, throw him a floatie, not your whole damn lifeboat.

@SadSingleButThriving: Not selfish. Love doesn’t mean self-sacrifice. Love means partnership.

@SpicyInSweats: I once fell for a man who still texted his ex on her dog’s birthday. Choose yourself.

@TooTiredToEvenLie: Does he bring you tacos when you cry? If yes, stay. If not, run.