“But nothing. It’s good.” She wasn’t meeting my eyes.
I waited. One thing I’d learned about Leigh was that she filled silences when they got uncomfortable.
“I’ve been avoiding him,” she admitted finally. “Jasper, I mean. I know I’m using the wedding as an excuse to stay busy. Running around to fittings and meetings and photo locations.”
“You don’t want to spend time with him?”
“It’s not that.” She turned slightly to face me, her shoulder leaning against the couch as she finally looked at me. “I want to give him and Mom time alone. She deserves to be happy, you know? All these years she’s been alone, working so many shiftsat the hospital that sometimes it felt like I never saw her for days. She made sure I never went without even when money was tight. She made her entire life about making sure I had whatever I needed. This could be her chance to finally have something for herself.”
Something in my chest tightened. “So you’re staying out of the way.”
“I’m giving them space. Giving them a chance to... I don’t know. Figure out if there’s still something there after all this time.” She shrugged, trying to look casual, but I could see the vulnerability underneath. “Besides, I’m better at being on the periphery anyway. Easier that way.”
“Leigh…”
“It’s fine, Dex. Really. Mom seems lighter somehow. Happier. That’s what matters.” She picked up her coffee. “And it’s not like I’m lonely or anything. I’ve got the wedding planning. And you.”
The way she said “and you”, casual but loaded, made my heart do that stupid thing again.
I wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to hold back, that she could have this whole other side of her family too if she wanted. But I knew that she wasn’t ready to hear it. Leigh was slowly learning how to be part of the family in the way she knew how, standing on the edge and watching, learning. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, maybe it was just habit by this point, but if this was what she needed to process this huge change in her life, then I’d do whatever I could to help her.
So, instead, I told her about moving to Willowbrook in fifth grade, about how the brothers had adopted me into their group without question. About how their grandfather had always included me in things even though I wasn’t his kid, and how that had meant everything to a kid who’d just lost his dad.
“You and I are the same,” she said quietly. “Always on the outside looking in. Always grateful to be included but never quite sure if we really belong.”
“Maybe that’s why this feels right. Because we understand each other.”
“Maybe.” She shifted, looking up at me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Your mom. You said she left when you were little. What happened?”
My hand stilled where it had been playing with her hair. Most people didn’t ask. The brothers knew the basics but had never pushed for details. Even Xander, who knew me better than anyone, had only heard the surface version.
But Leigh was looking at me with those eyes that seemed to see straight through every wall I’d ever built, and I found myself wanting to tell her.
All of it.
“She left when I was four,” I said finally. “Just walked out one day and never came back.”
“Do you remember it? The day she left?”
“Pieces of it. I remember Dad crying, which I’d never seen before. I remember him trying to explain that Mommy needed to go away for a while. That she wasn’t happy.” I stared at the ceiling, pulling up memories I usually kept locked away. “I remember waiting for her to come back despite what he said. Every day I’d sit by the window watching for her car.”
Leigh’s hand found mine, squeezed.
“She never did come back. Dad eventually told me she wasn’t built for family life. That some people just aren’t meant for it. He said it like it was a fact, like some people are born without the ability to love that way.”
“That’s not true,” Leigh said fiercely. “That’s not how love works.”
“Isn’t it?” I looked at her. “She had a husband and a kid and she walked away from both without looking back. What else would you call that?”
I hated the pain in my voice as I asked. I hated that she was able to ruin a moment as beautiful as getting to know my girlfriend even all these years later.
Girlfriend? Was that what she was? It was definitely what it felt like right now.
“I’d call it her loss. Her failure. Not some inherent inability to love.” She shifted so she was facing me fully. “Dex, what your mom did… that’s on her. Not on you. And it doesn’t mean love is conditional or that people will leave if you’re not perfect.”
