I should leave whatever that is alone. I don’t.
“You want to talk?” I ask.
Her laugh is small, humorless. “About which part? The part where I fled my own wedding again? The part where my father will probably disown me? Or the part where I’m sitting on your couch wearing your clothes like some kind of deranged Christmas ghost?”
“Dealer’s choice,” I say.
She lifts her head and looks at me for a long moment, as if weighing whether I can actually handle the answer.
“Tell me about Lila,” she says at last.
That wasn’t what I expected.
But it settles my insides. This, I can talk about. This, I’m steady on.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“Everything,” she says. “She’s amazing. And I had no idea. I mean, I left, and suddenly you’re… you’re a dad.”
I shift, running a thumb along the edge of my mug.
“It wasn’t planned,” I say quietly. “Becoming a dad. But it was… right.”
Faith’s expression softens. “Were you and her serious?”
“We were married,” I say.
Her eyes widen, then she nods slowly, as if the shape of the story is starting to form.
“Belinda was all fire and laughter. She came through Buckhorn with a traveling rodeo, and she lit up every room she touched. I wasn’t looking for anything. I wasn’t even thinking beyond the next sunrise most days. But she…” I swallow. “She made life feel bright again after a long stretch of gray.”
Faith doesn’t interrupt.
“She got pregnant sooner than either of us expected, but we were happy. Scared, but happy. We got married at Grace Community. It was small and quick, nothing fancy.” I glance toward the window, remembering it more clearly than I want to. “She wore a blue dress. Said white wasn’t her color.”
Faith smiles faintly.
I keep going.
“It was good, for a while. She loved being a mom more than anyone expected. She was focused on education, on her big dreams for our baby. She wanted her to haveeverything. Lila was her whole world. Our whole world.” My throat tightens. “But then Belinda started getting tired. Not normal tired. Deep, bone tired. She had bruises she couldn’t explain. Colds that never went away.”
Faith’s brows draw together, worry blooming across her face.
“We thought it was postpartum at first. Or stress. But it wasn’t.” I stare into my coffee, though I’m not seeing it. “By the time we got answers, it was already too late. Some things you can’t outrun.”
The silence between us shifts.
“She fought hard,” I say. “Harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. Even when she was scared. Even when she couldn’t hold Lila without help. She stayed kind. That was the part that gutted me. She stayed kind all the way to the end.”
Faith lifts a hand to her mouth, eyes shining. “Dallas… I’m so sorry.”
I nod once. “She passed when Lila was two. Peacefully. At home. We had hospice, and Mom and Boone were here. We weren’t alone.”
Faith trembles. “You went through that without me even knowing.”
I don’t say:You weren’t here.
I don’t say:I didn’t expect you to be.
