Page 2 of Don’t Let Him In

My nerves loosen, shoulders easing at the sight of Stacy teetering in the doorway, the faded pink of her sweater catching against the dark shed, her slender figure half-hidden in shadow, so I don’t notice she’s crying until her voice breaks when she speaks.

“M-Manson?”

My stomach drops, chest clenching. “Stacy? What’s wrong?”

She steps deeper inside, moonlight grazing the curve of her cheek, tears cascading down, shoulders hunched inside the oversized sweater. I go still, my pulse stuttering, vision skewing.

“What’s wrong?” I ask again, throat tightening as I close the distance and pull her into me. She collapses against my chest, her cry breaking loose, tears soaking into my shirt, her fist twisting into the fabric hard enough to pull a grunt from me, my brow pulling tight.

She jerks back out of my arms, putting a sliver of space between us before lifting her head, her ponytail swaying behind her as she bats away the last of the moisture clinging to her lashes.

“I’m sorry—” Her voice is small, breathless. “I didn’t bring anything today. I had the bread packed and ready, I just⁠—”

“Hey,” I murmur, softer now, my hand cradling her face as my thumb brushes over the beauty mark at the edge of her chin.

“This is all my fault,” she says. “They hurt you because of me.”

I dip my head, catching her eyes and holding them there. “Don’t blame yourself. None of that was your fault.”

Her body trembles, arms folding around herself as she shakes her head, her voice failing her.

The corners of my lips lift despite the tightness in my chest. “Besides, I’m strong enough to take it. The bruises don’t even hurt anymore.”

Her teeth scrape her lip, her gaze drifting back to mine, where I offer a gentler smile. Her breath hitches, color rising in her cheeks before her eyes gloss again. “I wanted to tell you this sooner, but…Manson…”

I move toward her, but she steps back, recoiling as though an invisible band has gone taut between us. She avoids my eyes, a pulse jumping in her throat.

“I can’t keep coming here anymore,” she says.

Silence falls between us. My chest jolts. “Stacy, please…”

This time, she doesn’t retreat when I close the distance again, catching her wrist, my heartbeat clamoring in my ears at the thought of her leaving. I can’t let her. I won’t.

She winces, a sharp gasp escaping from her, and I drop her hand instantly, thrown off balance as realization crashes into me. Deep splotches of purple and green peek through her sweater, and she quickly tugs on the fabric, but it’s too late.

My stomach flips.

I’ve seen those marks before.

Swallowing hard, I force the words out. “Lift your sleeve.”

Her eyes flare, her head shaking as color creeps into her cheeks, pinking them while tears spill down her face. “It was just this once.”

My lungs compress, jaw stiffening.

Kevin.

“I thought that stopped. That you left.”

“I can’t leave him.” Her voice is so small it nearly buckles my knees, but I stay planted, my gaze fixed on her.

I wait for her to explain. She doesn’t.

Gritting my teeth, I ask, “So that’s it then? You’re choosing him.”

Still no answer. Unable to speak, her chin dips to her chest, breath hitching as a strangled cry slips free. It lands heavy in my gut.

I shouldn’t beg her. Not after she’s already made a choice.