“I…”
“Don’t you think it’s time that you two had a real conversation? Not the surface-level shit. The real stuff. Your past. Your fears.”
I stare down at my hands—calloused, scraped, still dusted with sawdust—and that’s when I realize everything he is saying is right. When Noah and I first met we were instant friends, and long before he was with Brighton, when he was a single dad and struggling, we shared things. Which means he knows about Suzanna. About Ben. About how I learned the hard way what it feels like to not be enough.
Nicklas knows pieces.
But Maria?
She knows none of it.
And suddenly it clicks. How the hell is she supposed to believe I want forever when I’ve never said it? When I’ve never shown her all of me?
She told me about law school. About the life she’s building. What she wants. Where she’s going. All I’ve given her was the easy parts. The fun parts. Nothing that requires risk. Nothing that proves I’m staying.
“Yeah,” I say finally, quieter now. Honest. “I think I do.”
Noah nods like he expected that answer all along. He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Then you should go do something about it.”
Feet planted, I let out a breath and nod.
“Like right now,” he says and laughs. “Listen, thanks for the help. I appreciate it,” he adds waving for me to go. “But right now, I think you’ve got more important things to figure out than my fence.”
I huff out a small laugh, and reach for my phone again, checking the time. I’d planned to go to the game straight from here. But now I need a shower and a game plan.
“Thanks, Noah,” I say, already moving, already feeling the shift under my feet like something’s finally clicked into place.
As I walk toward my car, the sky has gone darker, the last of the light bleeding out behind the trees. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter as I climb in, heart kicking up, something close to urgency building in my chest. I drive home, working hard not to speed, but my mind is racing.
By the time I pull into my driveway, the sky has gone fully dark. The house is quiet. Empty. Maria was going straight to the game from work. Kate’s meeting us there after seeing Violet.
Good.
I have time to think, to get my head straight, to finally figure out how to say everything I should’ve said weeks ago. I push open the front door and flick on the light. The house greets me with silence, but then tiny claws skitter against hardwood.
“Hey, buddy?—”
I bend to scoop up Marbles, but my foot catches the edge of the entrance mat—probably kicked up from the boys rushing out earlier—and I lurch forward.
“Jesus—”
My hand slams into the wall, barely catching myself before I face plant. The sudden movement sends Marbles bolting. Straight out the open door.
“No—”
The word tears out of me too late. I spin, heart already racing as I fumble for the switch and flood the yard with light.
“Marbles,” My panicked voice cracks into the night. “Hey, come here, buddy…”
Headlights streak past at the end of the driveway. My stomach drops.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit?—”
I yank my phone out, flick on the flashlight, and sweep it across the yard, the bushes, the shadows.
“Marbles, it’s okay,” I call, trying to steady my voice, even as my chest tightens. “Let’s go back inside. Come on?—”
Another car passes. Too fast. Too close. I start down the driveway, scanning, searching. And then I see him sitting right at the edge of the street. The world narrows to that one small shape in the dark.
