He nods, and takes my work bag off my shoulder. I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. That’s how he always was, doing little things to take care of me in his own quiet way.
Once we’re inside, the kids kick off their shoes and head into the dining room to get started on homework.
Chance stands awkwardly in my kitchen, glancing around at the room.
I turn to face him and lift my eyebrows. “So, you found my address.”
“Your friend the other night said you lived on Beaker Street. Wasn’t hard to find you.”
“And you wanted to find me because...?”
He heaves a sigh before his eyes settle on mine. “You didn’t call me.”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“I gave you my number.”
“But you didn’t take mine.”
“Hence me finding you.”
I roll my lips between my teeth to suppress a smile. “What is it you came here to say?”
He runs his fingers through his thick dark hair, his hood falling off with the motion. “It’s been four years...”
I nod, waiting for it.
“You just left.” He pauses, eyes searching mine for an answer. “And now you’re here, and I just need to know what happened.”
Guilt twists my stomach. I lean over and peer into the dining room, and Avery and Alyssa’s heads snap back down to their homework.
Eavesdropping little sneaks.
I lower my voice and step closer to Chance. “My sister passed away. She named me as the children’s legal guardian. I was a mess, and I didn’t know what to do. I know I should’ve said something to you and Stephen; I should’ve said goodbye before I left. But honestly? It would’ve been too hard.”
Hurt flashes in his eyes. “You lost your sister, and you didn’t think you could talk to me about it?”
I hike a shoulder, toying with the hem of my blouse. “It was a lot. I had to be here for these kids, and I had to figure things out.”
“You didn’t need to do it by yourself.”
“You would’ve tried to help, and you were both so close to having everything you ever dreamed of. I didn’t want to stand in your way.”
“Youweremy way.” His jaw clenches as he steps forward into my space. “I?—”
“Aunt Presley?”
Both of our heads turn to Alyssa standing in the doorway. “Are the tacos going to be ready soon? I’m hungry.”
I press my palm to my forehead, completely forgetting about the chopped meat in the fridge that needs to be tossed into the pan. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll get them started now.”
Her green eyes flick to Chance. “Do you like tacos?”
He clears his throat as he nods. “I do.”
“You should stay. Aunt Presley never has boys over.”
I choke on my spit, and Chance smirks like he’s pleased at that notion.
