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“What happened to her? Who took care of her?”

“Isabel’s parents.”

“Why?”

“Because they could, and they wanted to. They offered to let me live with them too, along with Livy. I wanted that too. Somehow. But I wasn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .” I shake my head and stop talking.

“Sometimes a child’s own parents aren’t the best option,” Lia says softly. Her words cut me to the quick. “You were traumatized. You watched the girl you love . . .” She goes silent and starts again. “You went through so much. You didn’t run away. It’s not like you weren’t taking care of your daughter. You did what you could, and the best possible thing you could do in the situation was to go and leave her with the people who you knew would love her more than anything.”

A raw sob escapes me, and I can’t stop it, can’t suppress it, and I don’t even try. Lia’s words sink into my soul and take root.

Maybe that’s exactly what I needed to hear all along. Just the truth.

I did what I could.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was right, who knows. But it can’t be undone now. There are no what-ifs. There’s only reality, and in this reality, I had to leave because anything else would have made me fall apart.

Lia pulls back her hands just for a moment, just long enough to slide over and wrap her arms around me. I allow myself to sink heavily against her, and right now it no longer matters if we know what’s going on between us or if we’ll ever be able to figure it out. It doesn’t matter what will happen in a few hours or tomorrow.

She’s here.

She’s holding me.

She’s staying.

Her lips brush my temple, soft and soothing. She doesn’t say a word, but she’s here.

I close my eyes and let myself fall.

Chapter 39

Lia

I feel numb and heavy. My mind is empty, even though I usually have the opposite problem—I think too much. There’s complete chaos in my head, and at the same time, it’s an empty void.

Phoenix has a daughter.

Olivia.

Livy.

A little girl who lives right here in Boston. Just a few minutes’ drive from this apartment. He went on to tell me about Isabel’s parents and how he’d been with them on Friday, and finally it made sense to me why he’d been acting so strangely that day. It was because he was afraid to face them for the first time in so many years. More than anything, he’s afraid.

Then he told me about his mother and how much pressure she’s been putting on him recently to take responsibility.

It’s ironic that she interferes too much in his life, while my mother isn’t interested in my life at all. They are completely different, and yet somehow they’re similar, because they both manage to make their children feel worthless.

My stomach cramps, and I hastily push the thought of my mother aside.

Not now.

Tonight is about Phoenix. I turn to look at his sleeping face. He looks more peaceful and relaxed than before and at the same time infinitely exhausted.

I’m just as tired, but I’m also wide awake.

I think I was wrong; it’s not just about him. It will never be just about him again. There’s someone else, and that someone isn’t me.

He came back to Boston because of Olivia, so he wouldn’t miss out on even more than he already has. He wants to be there for her if that’s what she wants. That’s why he took the job at our school. That’s why he became a teacher, because it’s a secure job with regular working hours. He doesn’t have to worry about what will happen next season or whether he can afford to take a break. Not to mention injuries.