“It’s complicated,” I lie, for what feels like the millionth time.
“It’s not complicated. You’re just afraid of disappointing your dad.”
My throat tightens as my chin drops.
“The accident wasn’t your fault, Sadie,” Milo says softly.
I shake my head. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what it was like. How my family fell apart. Mom practically lived in herpajamas. She was exhausted with Dad’s recovery, and my sisters—they needed her, but she didn’t have enough of herself to give.”
Regret sketches ridges on his face. “I’m sorry, Sadie.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, feeling their sharpness. “And my dad needed me to keep his business afloat.”
Milo’s hand traces my face from my temple to my chin. “And you did. But if I know him at all, I think he just wants you to be honest with him now. Your dad was the biggest supporter of anything you or your sisters did. Even the things he thought were ridiculous. Remember when Sophie wanted to perform magic at the talent show?”
I chuckle, a tear slipping down my cheek, which Milo softly wipes away. “Yes.”
“He volunteered to be her assistant,” Milo continues. “Marched right up on stage in that lawn-chair-pattern button-down like he was headlining Vegas.”
I laugh through my tears. “She made him wear the sparkly cape.”
“And the top hat that kept sliding over his eyes,” Milo adds. “Your dad couldn’t see a thing. Just stood there grinning while she dramatically announced she was about to ‘defy the laws of gravity.’”
I sniff. “And she dropped the wand.”
“Your dad still clapped like she’d pulled a rabbit out of thin air,” Milo finishes the story. “What I’m trying to say is your dad doesn’t want to keep you from doing the things you want to. He wants to see his beautiful girls loving their lives.”
I use the palms of my hands to wipe the rest of my tears and nod.
“Your dad loves you, Sadie.” Milo’s words are quiet now. “Not because of what you do, but because of who you are. There’s a big difference.”
I know what Milo is saying is true, but there’s truth to what I’m saying, too.
Truth to the fact that I had to hold everything and everyone together.Alone.
I look back into his blue eyes, my legs beginning to go numb with fear that I’m not strong enough to ask what I need to. I let a deep breath melt through my chest before I say, “Why didn’t you come back sooner? Why didn’t you come back after the injury?”
His eyes dull slightly and his chest stills. “I wish I could have,” he replies softly.
“Couldhave? What was stopping you?” I pull away from him, crossing my arms. “I understood when you had football why you didn’t come to see Joe, but after the hit . . .” I shake my head. “Joe was like your dad, Milo. I went to his house daily after you were injured. I had to force him out of bed. Some days Ispoon-fedhim.”
Milo winces. I don’t want to hurt him, but he needs to know, and I need to know. Know why, when his dreams were snatched from him, it took almost four more years for him to come back to Dusty Hollow. Why he created a life of teaching and TikTok instead of facing his grandpa . . . of facing me.
“Can we sit down?” His question is quiet.
I nod, my shoulders beginning to tighten along with my jaw.
He turns, and I follow him silently through hallways and up different sets of stairs until we step out to sit in the stadium seats, the field now far below us.
“I don’t have excuses, Sadie, but I do have reasons.”
40
MILO
We sit highabove the field, the turf a green sea far below us. Sadie’s cheeks are still flushed from laughing, from running, from being brave enough to feel again—and now her arms fold over my jersey like she’s trying to keep herself from shaking.
I hate the way she’s looking at me, because she’s right to.
