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Mumbling voices overlapped with the fussiness of a nightmare, and Nell opened her eyes to the streaming sunlight highlighting dust through Barrett’s window.

But rather than waking from a nightmare to relief, she woke to the same sinking in her gut when she realized things were not better awake.

Reality was just as bad as the horror her mind stewed up. And Barrett was not beside her; he was not even on the ground where he’d slept the night before.

But she heard him speaking on the other side of the door, his voice low and muffled down the hallway in the living room.

Was it better to find him and make excuses for herself? Or to pretend she’d never woken up in the first place?

There was no hiding, not awake and not asleep. There never was.

She rose, still in the same clothes as the day before, she realized, and walked to the door.

Another voice spoke. This time, not Barrett. Not even a man. It was a woman.

Nell froze because, for a moment, she thought she was still asleep and in a nightmare. A strange one, with an overlap of worlds.

But then when another, deeper voice spoke, she realized she was very much fully awake, and those were very much her parents’ voices.

Nell swung the door open and followed their mumbling into the living room.

Nell took in the scene as she emerged into the area: her parents, sitting on the sofa she’d spent so much time with Barrett on, with Barrett standing next to them. Her single bag was packed full and on her mother’s lap.

“What’s going on?” Nell’s voice was raspy from sleep and lack of water. It grated against her taut nerves.

They all stared at her, their mouths searching for words that never came. Even Barrett looked guilty.

Why did he look guilty?

Nausea ran through her. “Why are they here? How did they get my stuff?”

Barrett shifted, looking at the bag in question. Unlike her, he didn’t seem surprised to see it there.

Nell couldn’t explain the betrayal that stung her spine, making her legs weak.

How else would her parents have her bag? Who else knew what to gather and would let them into the house, and hand it all over to them?

Who else but him?

“It’s time to come home, sweetheart.” Nell’s mother rose from the couch, her voice soft and a hand stretched out like she was approaching a wild animal and not her daughter.

Nell flinched away. “No. I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped. “Tell them, Scott. They need to leave. I’m staying here.”

She looked at Barrett, pleading.

His jaw set, and his eyes shimmered as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nell. You need to go.”

“What?” Nell tripped over the only word out of her mouth. The hair on her skin went haywire, spiking as she registered everyone in that room as a threat. Everyone. “You’re lying.”

“You need to go with them,” he repeated.

Hearing it twice doubled the recoil.

Nell swayed back and forth, then she turned and stumbled out of the living room, down the hallway, and into the bedroom.

She turned to slam the door shut, intent on locking herself in there and never coming out ever again.

But she was slow, and Barrett was quicker.

He followed her in as she screamed at him to leave. He shut the door, locking them in there together and forcing her to remain by him even though looking at him shredded her heart.

Picking up a pillow, she threw it at him and nearly lost her balance.

Barrett was on her in a moment, catching her by the arm and preventing her from toppling to the floor like a broken tower.

He held her together, but Nell only wanted to crash now.

She weakly shoved her hands against him.

She clenched her eyes closed and sent all her power into him, wailing as her hands made contact with his arms and chest.

Salt hit her tongue, and she realized she was crying.

Her foundation finally gave, and with a final push at his arms, he lost his grip and she shattered into a million pieces on the floor.

Not even a tower, just a pane of glass.

The pain burned through her the same way it had when she woke in that hospital bed, the loss nearly tearing her in two. She’d thought she could be stitched together.

How wrong she’d been.

She’d never been worth his love. Never deserved his attention.

Why did he have to remind her?

He said nothing, falling to his knees next to her. His hands lifted to her cheeks, and Nell couldn’t help letting her head fall into his chest.

His heart beat quickly, just like it always did.

“Please, Scott,” she sobbed into his shirt. “Please don’t do this. I need you. I can’t live without you.”

His hand brushed against her cheek, pulling her away and forcing her to meet his eyes.

He shook his head. “That’s just the thing, Nell.

I don’t want to be the thing you can’t live without.

I just want to be a part of the life you’re already living.

You need more help than I’m capable of giving you right now.

I’m not going to hold you back from that. ”

“But—”

He caught her lips in his, and she wished he didn’t kiss her like he was saying goodbye. His mouth moved softly, with the same passion but like he was in no rush to let it go.

Yet he did anyway.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the way his sparkled in the sunlight from his window.

His fingers slid over her cheeks and under her eyes, crested her nose, and lined her chin. “Please, Nell.” His voice cracked. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Don’t treat me like I’m that stuff.”

Nell jolted, her eyes widening.

How could he . . .

She had a rare moment of clarity. Like a fog that had been clouding her mind cleared enough for her to see a road, and she saw him.

Saw the honesty in him, the care, the love, and the pain —all things she had caused.

Nell dropped her hands, fell into him, and cried.