Page 80 of Can’t Say No

She’ll change her mind.

She’ll play The Valley as one last hurrah then come home for good.

She’ll choose something for herself. Choose us.

Eyes locked on the ground, she whispers, “I’m leaving, Connor.”

With those three words, all hope dies. Silently, I get back in my car and pull out of the the driveway. I nearly make it all the way down the drive without looking in the rearview mirror, but self-control has never been my strong suit when it comes to Delaney.

When I glance back, she’s already gone.

30

DELANEY

“And five, six, seven, eight.”

The choreographer counts me in, and I run through the steps for what feels like the millionth time. My dancing abilities have always been a smidge above passable, but today I look like I have two left feet.

I took a red-eye flight out and met my team bright and early at The Valley this morning. I have one day to get my set performance-ready, and presently, as I struggle to catch my breath after three songs, that seems like an impossible task.

I can see the headlines.

Delaney James: Unfocused, Uncoordinated, and Out of Shape.

And none of that criticism would be wrong.

I should be focused on my comeback performance, but I can’t get the look on Connor’s face out of my mind, the strong, happy, hardworking man, the man I’ve always loved, looking so utterly shattered in front of me.

My dad had cancer.

With those words, all the pieces fell into place. Reggie moving to town and turning over the orchard over to Connor. The unmistakable protective edge Connor carries around his dad. Connor’s reluctant but steady commitment to the family land.

It all makes sense now.

While I was out in L.A. building my career, Connor was home in Ridgecrest, barely an adult, shouldering the weight of caregiving on his own. I should have known that something was wrong. I should have reached out more, should have pushed harder, should have come home.

He went silent, and now I understand why.

The rising regret sits heavily in my chest, and I rub my sternum in a futile attempt to quell my unease. Before the fake dating, before the damage control, before falling in love with him, Connor was my best friend and my heart aches for all the years we can’t get back.

Returning to Ridgecrest was supposed to be a punishment, a reality check, a last-ditch effort to save my career.

It wasn’t supposed to break my heart.

“Good grief Delaney, didn’t realize we’d be starting from zero. Why didn’t you keep up with your cardio while you were back in Ridgecrest?”

My dad groans from his perch just beyond the stage, bringing me back to my present, hellacious reality. Like a fucking vulture, he’s always ready to swoop in and pick me apart when I’m at my lowest.

“I went for a run nearly every day, Dad,” I say, far too quick to defend myself. “I’ll get it together. Don't worry.”

He huffs and stomps off somewhere backstage, phone in hand, no doubt planning my next career-saving move.

I can’t decide which is more humiliating: the way he criticizes me in front of other people, or the fact that I always seem to come crawling back for more.

Both, I decide. Both are equally humiliating.

I wobble off the stage like a baby giraffe, making a mental note to talk to wardrobe about lower heels.