Page 90

“How did I miss all of this?”

“You saw Jace,” I said. “You saw a kid who needed someone to choose him.”

Her lips parted, but no words came, at least not at first. “But what did I not see?”

That question lingered between us because there wasn’t a gentle answer for it.

“That he was using the best thing about you against you: your heart.” The words rested between us like something finally set down after being carried too long.

Cali’s breathing changed. Shallow now. Unsteady. She looked down at the papers again, but I could tell she wasn’t reading anymore. She was trying not to fall apart in front of me.

“I should’ve stopped it,” she whispered.

“No,” I said immediately.

That got her attention again. Her eyes lifted.

“You don’t get to do that,” I added, softer but firm. “You don’t get to turn this into something you could’ve prevented.”

Her jaw trembled slightly. I hated that I noticed.

“You were raising a kid,” I said. “You were in school. You were working. You were doing everything you could with what you had.”

Her grip loosened, but her eyes were still glassy.

“I should’ve seen it.” The words came out barely above a whisper, like saying them louder would make them true.

“Cali,” I said, “he was never going to make it obvious.” That did it. Something in her broke loose behind her eyes, but she still didn’t let the tears fall. Not yet. She looked down at the envelope still in her hand. Her voice was barely steady when she spoke.

“What happens now?”

I didn’t pretend I had a clean answer. But I didn’t leave her standing in it alone either. “Now,” I said, “we make sure he doesn’t get another chance to ever do this to you again.”

Her breath shook once. “How did you get this?”

I swallowed. I was going to tell the truth even if it made her hate me. I had to be honest if there was ever a chance to repair the damage between us.

“After you came back, I was angry. I didn’t know where to put that anger, and instead of dealing with it, I did something I’m not proud of. I had someone look into your life.”

Her features grew taut, but she didn’t look angry yet. That almost made it worse. Anger would have been easier. This was her trying to understand how many people had made decisions about her life without her; this was something worse—hurt.

“I got the envelope a few weeks ago. I never opened it.” I swallowed, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “Because even then, I knew I’d already crossed a line. I couldn’t justify crossing another by opening something that wasn’t mine.”

My grip wrapped around the edge of the counter. “But now I wish I’d known what he was doing so I could stop it before he could hurt you again.”

Cali stepped back, and suddenly the space between us felt wider than the entire room. “It’s not your job to protect me.” Her voice was resigned this time, and the hurt underneath came through. Everything else I had planned to say never made it out of my mouth.

“Lane. I need you to leave.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded, knowing this was coming. She needed space.

I grabbed my duffel bag from the couch. Every instinct told me to stay. To explain. To remind her that everything I had done came from loving her. But that was the problem. Love didn’t make me the exception to her boundaries. She’d asked me to leave, and loving her meant listening.

“I’m here when you’re ready.” The words felt useless the second they left my mouth.

I walked out, leaving her with the truth she deserved and the space I should have given her from the beginning. The door closed behind me. I wasn’t sure she would ever open it again.

Forty-Three