“That’s not—“ I start, then stop. Because maybe there’s truth in what she’s saying. Maybe I have been treating this like something that fits around my life instead of something that changes it.
“I don’t know how to trust someone with the scary stuff,” she continues, and now there are tears in her voice. “I don’t know how to be vulnerable without getting hurt.”
“So you hurt me instead?”
She looks up, and the pain in her eyes almost undoes me. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being unfair. I know you couldn’t have known if I didn’t tell you. But I’m just... I’m so tired of being disappointed.”
“I’m not going to disappoint you.”
“Everyone says that.”
We stand there in the quiet kitchen, the space between us feeling like a chasm. I can see the conflict in her face—the part of her that wants to trust me warring with the part that’s learned to protect herself.
“I should get the kids home,” she says instead of answering. “School tomorrow.”
“Golda—”
“Thank you for the Thai food. I’m sure everyone will enjoy it.”
She moves toward the doorway, then pauses. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“But you’re still leaving.”
“Because I can’t stay without making it worse.”
She’s gone before I can figure out what to say, taking Tyson and Blythe with her. I hear their voices in the hallway, Blythe’s disappointed protests about leaving early, Tyson’s quiet questions about why Mom seems upset.
Then the front door closes, and I’m left standing in Brody and Elliot’s kitchen feeling like I just lost something important.
“Well,” Brody says, reappearing. “That was painful to watch.”
“She knows she’s being unfair,” I say, slumping against the counter. “But she can’t stop herself.”
“Trauma response,” Elliot says quietly. “Push people away before they can hurt you.”
“So how do I prove I’m not going to hurt her?”
“You don’t,” Brody says. “You can’t prove a negative. But you can prove that you’re serious about this. That you’re not just visiting her life—you’re choosing it.”
“What does that look like?”
“Something big,” Elliot says. “Something that shows you’re all in, even when she’s pushing you away.”
After they politely but firmly suggest I head home, I sit in my car outside their house for a long time, thinking about Golda’s words. About how scared she is of being let down again. About how I can show her that I’m different without asking her to just trust me blindly.
She wants proof that I’m serious. That I’m not going anywhere when things get hard.
By the time I drive home, I know what I need to do. It’s not about words or promises or gradual gestures. It’s about making a choice so public, so permanent, that there’s no going back.
I pull out my phone and start making calls.
15
GOLDA
I stareat my phone for the tenth time in five minutes, scrolling through Dex’s unanswered texts from yesterday. Each one makes the guilt in my chest heavier.
Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I’d still like to take you out tonight if you’re up for it.
