Page 214 of Things We Hide from the Light

She tossed the papers down on the bed and took a challenging step toward me. “For the record, this is you pushing me away and this is me sticking.”

“I don’t want you to stick.” The words burned like acid in my mouth.

“Who didn’t you protect, Nash?” she said quietly.

Piper curled up in a tight ball in the suitcase and wrapped her tail over her nose.

“Are you forgetting the rock someone threw through your window last night?”

“No one got hurt.”

“Can’t say the same for the woman on a fucking ventilator in the ICU. She’s got a husband and two boys wondering what they’re gonna do if she doesn’t wake up.”

Lina took another step forward. She was too close. I had to fist my hands at my sides to keep myself from grabbing her and holding her to me.

“Does that remind you of your mom?” she asked quietly.

“How the fuck could it not? It happened on the same stretch of road less than two hundred yards away.”

“Baby,” she whispered, inching closer like I was some kind of skittish fucking horse.

“Don’t,” I hissed.

“You can’t get there in time to save everyone,” she said.

“I can’t save anyone. I really need you to go, Lina. Please.”

Her eyes looked glassy, and when she nodded, her earrings shimmered, the golden sunbursts catching the light.

“Okay. You’re exhausted. You’ve had a god-awful day. I’m going to give you some space. I’ll stay next door with Nolan tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow after you’ve had some sleep.”

“Fine,” I rasped. I’d promise her anything just to make her leave before I broke down and touched her.

I stayed where I was, rooted to the spot as she packed a few things into her bag and then wheeled it out around me. I heard her go into the kitchen and turn off the burner. And then I listened for the front door to open and close softly.

She was gone.

And I was alone.

But instead of relief, a wave of panic crashed over me, shoving me under, forcing me down deep.

She was gone.

I’d made the woman I needed, the woman I loved, leave.

I left the bedroom, the sight of the bed we’d shared making me sick. Ilovedher. I’d known it for a while. Maybe since the moment I found her on my stairs. I’d wanted her. Needed her. And now I’d thrown her away.

But it was the right thing, wasn’t it? She deserved more than to be someone’s crutch, someone’s emotional support fuck. She deserved something real and good. And I couldn’t offer that. Not like this.

Piper sat next to the front door and whimpered pathetically.

I put my hands on my head and headed for the bedroom as the band around my chest tightened to the point of pain. I spotted the papers Lina had left and picked them up. They were from the dog rescue. It was an adoption application. The sticky note on top said in Lina’s bold scrawl, “She’s yours. Make it official.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. I dropped the papers and walked back to the living room. The plant in the window drew my attention. Lina’s plant. It had been nothing but a pot of glossy leaves when she’d moved in, but now it was covered with delicate white bell-shaped blooms.

Lily of the valley, I realized.

My mother’s favorite.