Page 126 of The Love Playbook

I reach out to him when the sound of footsteps down the hall perks my ears—my mother. What will she think when she finds out I’m the reason he’s gone, that he’s Barb’s son?

The thought pierces through every other emotion like a dagger, including my own pain, as I imagine all the ways in which this could make my mother’s depression worse. Because for my entire life, my mother’s wellbeing has trumped my own. Keeping her steady is all I know.

“What will I tell my mother?” I cry. “If she finds out you’re gone, it’ll upset her. She’ll ask questions, and she has her therapy today. She can’t?”

A sad smile curls the corners of his mouth, one that doesn’t reach his eyes, and my heart sinks at my feet. I want to shove the words back in, because I know that look. That look means Ilost, that we’re over. It’s the same look my father wore the day he walked out.

“You know, I went into this knowing I felt stronger for you . . .” His blue eyes turn misty like a waterfall as he slowly shakes his head. The muscle in his jaw jumps while his throat works. “I want you to be my priority, Lettie. So damn bad. My family comes first, then football and school, but I’d put you above it all, if you’d just let me. But it’ll never be enough, will it? You’ll always put her first. I’ll never be a priority when you can’t even make yourself one.”

“Chris . . .” I stumble forward, the words stuck in my throat, and when I say nothing, he turns and leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him. Stunned, I stare at it while my heart and mind race.

The sound of my breath fills the hallway, joining the engine rumbling outside as I try to come to terms with everything that’s just happened.

Chris is gone, and I can still see the heavy look in his eyes, the one who told me I’d lost him.How did everything go so wrong, so fast?

“What in the world is going on out here? Lettie . . .?”

I close my eyes against the sound of my mother’s voice, willing her to go away, but when I turn around, she’s standing there, her gaze bouncing like a ping-pong ball from me to the kitchen and the closed door. “Did Chris leave? I thought I heard yelling.”

I say nothing, finding it hard to breathe let alone speak through the knife lancing my chest.

Without a word, I brush past her. My limbs are numb, and my legs move on their own accord as I find my escape. If I can just make it to the bathroom and lock the door, then I can fall apart. Then I’ll be okay.

“What did you do?” Mom barks out. “You upset that poor boy, didn’t you? He’s the best thing to come into this house in years, and you just let him leave? How could you?”

I whirl around, poking a finger in her chest so fast she releases a startled cry. “This is allyourfault.”

“Mine?” Mom blinks, stumbling back.

“Yes, yours.” I stab another finger at her. “I’m so damn busy coming to your rescue all the time, I don’t even know how to have a normal relationship.”

Mom’s mouth gapes, the apples of her cheeks flushing with anger. “Don’t you dare blame this on me. You’re just mad because that boy is one of a kind, and you blew it.”

A bitter laugh ricochets from my lips. “You don’t even know him,” I say, even though that’s not entirely true, because the Chris who carried my mother up the stairs when she hurt her knee is the same sweet man I fell in love with.

“I know enough.”

“Really? Well, did you know those flowers weren’t even for you?”

“But you didn’t . . . you said?”

“I never said anything. I just let you think they were yours when they were really mine.”

Mom’s cheeks pinken, her mouth an angry line as she asks, “Why?”

“Because it made you happy!” I scream. “It’s the reason for nearly everything I do.”

Mom scoffs like it’s not true, and it hurts more than any words ever could. “Well, if you wanted me happy, then you wouldn’t have fought with that boy and chased him out,” she says.

Bitterness settles in the pit of my stomach, a viper ready to strike. “Do you wanna know who thatboyis, Mom?” I wait, but when she says nothing, because I have nothing left to lose. “He’s Barbie Collins’s son,” I spit out.

Mom’s eyes widen, the darks of her eyes melting into the liquid chocolate.

“Yeah, that’s right. Chris Collins is Dad’s fiancée’s son.” I lift my chin, watching as this information sinks in. “Bet you think differently about him now, huh?”

Mom says nothing and only shakes her head, taking a step back as Chris’s parting words ring in my head. “But guess what? You’re right about one thing,” I say. “Heisfucking amazing, and I just pushed the best thing that’s ever happened to me away because I’m so wrapped up in your happiness, I forgot to prioritize my own.”

“I never asked you for anything.” She shakes, finding her voice. “You’re trying to place the blame on me, but I’ve done nothing wrong.”