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The words echoed through my brain like gunshots. It was what Jill screamed at me during our final blow-out fight. She’d been shaking she was so angry. Red-faced. Teary.

I’d ruined her life. Just like my dad had ruined my mother’s.

That moment, that fight, was the moment I vowed never to do it again—never to fall in love with another woman.

Michelle’s eyes opened.

I didn’t meet them. Instead, stomach roiling so hard it hurt, I plucked the thing from her hair. It was a ghost. A tiny, white, sparkly foam ghost no bigger than my fingernail.

“It’s a sign,” I said, holding it out on my fingertip. There was something papery on the back, dusty, like powder.

“A sign of what?” she asked.

She hadn’t moved.

My hand was still entangled in her hair.

I slipped it out, my stomach churning hard like someone was punching me there, over and over again.

“I can’t offer you anything good, Michelle,” I said. “I’ll only bring you down. You deserve better. You’ve been through so much; I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

Michelle’s eyes flashed. Was she mad? “I’m not asking you for anything, Will.” Her voice was hard. Yes. She was pissed. See? This was what I did. It was the one thing I did brilliantly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you here. I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…”

I wanted to be with you. I didn’t want you to leave.

The four days without her had felt like torture. But so did this. My mind reeled.

“What about friendship?” I said, my voice strange, not sounding like me. The word felt hollow because it was. I didn’t just want friendship with her. It felt like a substitute. A disappointment.

Michelle’s mouth opened, her expression almost… rueful? “Can we have that?” I asked. Pleaded, more like. I needed her to say yes.

Then her eyes glossed with tears.

Fuck. Of course, I was making her cry. “I’m sorry,” I said. I reached up and ran my thumb under her eye, catching the tear brimming there.

The heat rushed back.

Fuck it. I needed to kiss her. Every cell in my body demanded it. I leaned forward, everything else be damned.

But just a fraction before our lips met, Michelle’s hand landed on my shoulder, pushing me away. “Friends,” she reminded me.

I opened my mouth, then froze. There were noises outside. Giggling. Stomping on the back steps.

The back door slammed open. I jumped in front of Michelle, arms up.

Remy appeared in the doorway. She screamed. Then, when she saw it was me, said, “Dad?!”

My heart thumped. “Remy! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I—” her eyes darted sideways. “Mom said I was supposed to be with you the rest of the week! She said she talked to you.”

Fuck. Jill had texted a couple of days ago. I’d completely forgotten—she and her boyfriend were doing some kind of getaway this weekend. How the fuck could I have forgotten my own daughter?

You’ve been obsessing over Michelle, that’s why.

Remy glanced sideways again.