Hockey cured me of that misconception years ago.
The truly dangerous players aren’t the loud ones, they’re the controlled ones.
“You should leave,” I repeat.
“And you should stop pretending this little fantasy is real.” Darren gestures loosely toward Sadie. “Come on. We both know how this ends. Guys like you don’t stay in Briar Cove baking cookies forever.”
The words land harder than they should.
Not because he’s right.
Because a part of me is terrified he might be.
I ignore that immediately.
Beside me, Sadie folds her arms tightly against the cold. “You lost the right to comment on my life when you cheated on me.”
Darren winces slightly.
Interesting.
So, he does have a functioning conscience buried in there somewhere.
“Sadie—”
“No.” Her voice stays calm too, but I can feel anger vibrating underneath it. “You do not get to show up now acting concerned about Jillie after disappearing the second things became inconvenient.”
Jillie goes very quiet beside me.
Damn it.
Sadie feels it too.
I see the exact moment that regret flashes across her face, not because she said something wrong, but because she never wanted Jillie to hear this conversation.
Darren notices the silence and softens his voice immediately. “Jillie, sweetheart—”
“No,” I say sharply.
The word cuts through the snowfall cleanly.
Darren’s eyes snap to mine.
“She doesn’t need to be pulled into this,” I continue evenly. “So, either lower your voice or end the conversation.”
The parking lot has gone strangely still around us.
A few nearby parents pretend not to watch. Badly.
Sadie stares at me for half a second like she’s trying to understand something.
Honestly? So am I.
Because this protectiveness keeps arriving faster than my ability to explain it.
Darren exhales sharply through his nose. “You really think this is helping her?”
My answer comes immediately. “Yes.”
