Page 136 of Big Dill

“Yes,” I say. “But this—” I take a careful step closer, close enough to feel her breath. Close enough to ache. “This isn’t about lies, or names, or pretending. It’s about you. And how you feel.”

She opens her mouth to speak. I move closer still.

When she doesn’t pull away, I cup her face, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “You told me you were…replaceable.”

She blinks once. Twice. Then a nervous, almost embarrassed laugh slips free. “Maybe I had more to drink than I remember.”

“You didn’t.” My voice is steady now. Certain. “You were running. Trying to figure out who you were. Where you belonged.”

Her gaze drops. I lift her chin gently, forcing her to meet my eyes. “And I think you figured that out here.”

“Who am I, Brody?”

“I’ll tell you who you’re not.”

She tilts her head, confused.

“You’re not Elise 2.0.”

Pain flashes across her face. “She sent me⁠—”

“I know.” I don’t let her finish. “I know what she did. She hurt me, and I gave her another chance. But after finding out what she did to you, I stormed across town and confronted her. We had it out. I think the whole town heard our fight. Afterward she scurried back to Toronto.”

“She did?”

I shake my head once. “She’s gone, and there are no second or third chances for her when it comes to hurting you.” My forehead rests against hers. My voice drops to a vow. “No one gets to hurt you. Not her. Not the world.” A beat. “Not even me.”

“At first, I thought you two were…that I was…”

“You think people only love you when you’re who they want you to be.” She stills, because she knows. Her parents. Her ex. Every place she ever had to earn affection. “With me,” I continue. “You thought you were filling a space. Replacing someone else. Becoming someone you thought I wanted.” I exhale, my chest tight. “But that’s not it. I don’t want her. I don’t want a version of you.” I step closer, close enough that there’s nowhere left to hide. “I want you. The real you. The messy, complicated, brilliant, stubborn woman I can’t stop thinking about.”

“Stubborn,” she shoots back, and the teasing edge in her voice eases the tension inside me, letting me know we’re going to be okay.

As my heart soars with the love I feel for this woman, I lean in, rest my forehead against hers, our breaths tangling. “You don’t have to be anyone else. You just have to be you.” A pause. “That’s everything. You’re everything.”

She swallows hard. “You… you really mean that?” she whispers.

“Every word,” I say, my voice catching as my heart pounds. “You’re exactly who I want. Exactly who I’ve wanted all along.”

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, holding her like I’m afraid the world might take her again. “You thought I was sending you away.” My chest aches. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Her blue eyes fill, glassy and bright as she looks up at me. “I never meant to hurt you. I was just so afraid,” I admit. “Afraid of you leaving.”

“I did leave,” she whispers as tears spill free. “I ran. I turned out to be everything you thought I would be.”

“You are everything I thought you would be.” My hand comes off her back, and I cup her cheek. “Kind. Intelligent. Talented. The sweetest woman I’ve ever met.” I swallow. “You thought I’d hurt you. That’s why you ran. And I don’t blame you for that.”

“I never should’ve thought that of you, Brody,” she says. “You never gave me a reason to.”

“I had to let you go,” I say. “Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t ask you to stay.”

I pull back just enough to look at her. “I couldn’t be selfish and keep you from what you thought you wanted.” I take a breath. “But a part of me knew you didn’t want your clothes in a big department store. You were chasing that because it’s how you were taught to define success.”

I brush my thumb under her eye. “Any choice you made had to be yours. I didn’t want you to resent anything.”

She looks around the space again. “This place…”

“I thought maybe,” I say. “You could redefine what success looks like.”

“I don’t understand. I was selling my things at the social.”