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Maybe. I don't fucking know anymore.
"Yeah. She is. She's as happy as I am around Leigh."
"You're an obnoxious motherfucker now."
"Thanks." He leans back. Takes a deep, steady breath. Exhales slowly. "Have you considered that this, her running away, isn't about you?"
The suggestion cuts through my armor. Am I being an egomaniac about this?
"She's freaking out about something." He raises his brow, inviting me to explain.
I don't.
"Is it possible she's locking you out because she's scared?"
"Anything is possible."
"Maybe it has nothing to do with trusting you. Maybe it's all about her."
Maybe. She was really fucking insistent about how awful it was watching her mother die.
Is she trying to protect me?
After everything?
After begging me to stay?
It's possible.
It's a brighter idea than sitting around here moping.
Ryan runs his fingers through his hair. "You figured something out."
"Maybe."
"No. It's in your eyes. You know what it is."
I might. "How much time do you have until your next appointment?"
He looks to the clock. "Twenty minutes."
"You want to help me with this?"
"What do you think I'm doing sitting here?"
"A yes would suffice."
He smiles. "Not with you, it wouldn't."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chloe
Tuesday stretches on forever.
I watch TV with my sketchbook and all the Earl Grey ice cream I can eat.
My heart begs me
