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When all I want to do is curl up with her on the nearest soft place.
But I can’t, because she goes on. “You won’t talk to me, even though I’m the one person you should be able to, and I’m not going to wait around for you to either finally trust me or to come to your senses. I love you. I really do, but I also know that I deserve better than someone who calls me his girlfriend behind closed doors and his assistant to his family. So, yes, I am doing this. I’m quitting the job, and I’m breaking up with you.”
I grab at my chest, suddenly hollow, unable to move or speak.
It takes her a long time to do either one of those things too. Like neither one of us wants to stir from this spot. Because this can’t be how it ends. It just started.
“You’re not the villain in the story,” she whispers, almost as if she’s forgotten how to use her voice. “Stop treating yourself like you are. You may not have your family, but you have a lot of other people who love you. All you have to do is let them.”
Then she slips away, back inside her house, leaving me staring at the place she stood. But it doesn’t take long for my legs to give out, and I plop onto the steps, head in my hands.
I may not be the villain, but I’m sure as shit not the hero. And she’s right. She deserves better than me.
“Ah, fuck,” I mutter, my nose stuffy, throat dry.
“Language.”
I glance over my shoulder, to Shannon at the door, who smiles wryly. She points to the spot next to me. “Can I sit?”
In answer, I hold out my hand to her so she can use it for support as she lowers down to the stoop. I take off my suit jacket to drape around her shoulders, to which she murmurs a thank you, then proceeds to sit quietly next to me. I’m not sure if she’s waiting for an apology or an explanation, but they’re not as important as… “Where is she?”
“In the shower.”
I clear my throat, scratch at my neck. “I, uh…”
She pats my arm. “We don’t need to talk. I only wanted to come out here to let you know that no matter what happens between you two, I think you’re a great guy.”
“You’re severely overestimating me. Especially since your daughter broke up with me.”
She bobs her head side to side, as if weighing an idea. “Sometimes we all need a little time to ourselves, to grow, to understand…reflect.”
I cross my arms over my knees, inhale a deep breath, wait for the beat of my heart. I don’t feel it. Don’t feel anything.
“Millie was always different from her peers,” Shannon starts, a slight wheeze in her voice. “Different but wonderful. She’s a lot like her father. He had his idiosyncrasies too. Loved music. Could name every Grammy winner in every category from 1970 on. He could also pick out different instruments in songs by ear…made listening to the radio very difficult, but that’s what made him him, you know?”
I do know. Because all the quirks that make up Millie are the things that make her so special. They’re the reason why I love her.
“I loved Pat because he was different from anyone I ever knew. Some of my family made fun of him, of his mannerisms, and I stopped talking to them because of it, but I never regretted choosing him. I also never regretted the summer I told him he had to grow up and get himself together. We fought so much that night, but in the end, we were stronger for it. He had time to learn the world wasn’t going to wait for him to discover his path in life, and I had to realize that he was worth the frustration. He tried my patience until the day he died, but I would never give up one moment of it.”
By the time she finishes, I’ve placed my head on my arms to cover up how I’m crying like the fucking baby my father used to accuse me of being.
But Shannon comforts me with a rub to my back. “I’m going to head to bed, but I wanted you to know you always have me in your corner, rooting for you. And make sure to latch the gate when you leave. I’m locking the doors now, okay?”
I wipe my nose and nod, meeting her gaze. “Thank you.”
She smiles, fixes my hair, kisses my forehead like I’m her child, then uses my shoulder to help her stand. After she goes inside, the lock clicks, but she keeps the light on for me, and it is a very long time before I finally step off the porch and lean back to peer up at where I know Millie’s bedroom is. The light’s off.
So, I latch the back gate behind me and head to my car.
To learn how to live my life without Millie Sheehan in it.
CHAPTER 26
AUSTIN
There is a glare. It hurts.
Except, with my eyelids glued shut, I can’t tell what it is. I try to bat at it, even reach behind my head for the closest weapon, throwing it at the shade, but when something crashes, I jerk awake.
