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“Do you need anything, Hannah?” I ask.
“Another glass of wine,” she replies with a small laugh.
Before I can respond that’s not what I meant, she disappears into the kitchen. I follow, the now familiar scent of the orange cleaning spray she continuously uses reaching me.
Hannah stands by the kitchen counter, pouring wine. When she looks up, in her eyes I see the loss matching the day we parted, the confused girl whose life is out of her control, fighting the tears as her trembling fingers circle the bottle.
“You were at the hospital a long time today,” I say.
Her face pales. “They might have a donor.”
“That’s fantastic news!” I say, relief surging into the situation.
“This means Connor will start chemo in preparation. He’ll get really sick again.” She takes a shaky breath. “It’s horrible, Bryn. Last time…” Hannah can’t finish her words, holds her hand over her mouth as her eyes fill with tears.
“Hannah.” I cross and touch her face, the way I've resisted for the last few weeks. Her cheek is hot and wet from the tears, and she looks back with the confusion.
“Don't, Bryn.”
“Tell me what to do. Tell me how I can fix this.”
“You can't.”
“Then I can stay. I can be here for you.”
“But how long for?” She takes my hand from her cheek so I place my other on her instead.
“However long you both want me.”
“You're not mine to take,” she whispers.
This is the answer. Hannah and Connor need me. “Hannah, I could stay.”
Her eyes widen. “No, I'm not asking that of you. Look at what I've done, how I've treated you.”
“I want to be here for you and Connor. I’m fucking confused but a part of me knows this is right.” Perhaps Avery is right. I’m unable to let go because this is where I should be.
“Bryn, no.”
In the moment, we grasp at the light in the darkness around, and I follow the need to comfort Hannah. We’ve avoided touching each other, despite wanting to hug her when I see her struggling, but her body language clearly said no.
Standing this close, I see her more clearly than I have for months and I’m looking into the eyes of the woman I wanted last year. Hesitantly, I place my lips on Hannah's.
Then jerk away.
What the fuck am I doing?
She isn't Avery.
I step back, disgusted with and confused by what I almost did. Hannah touches her mouth, bewilderment in her shining eyes, and I will her not to cry.
“You don't belong with me, Bryn,” she says quietly and steps back. “Once you did, but we're not there anymore. I had my chance. I had years to ask you to be mine, and I never did.”
“If you need me, I’m here.”
Hannah shakes her head. “Listen to what you’re saying. You’re asking ifIneed you, not thatyouwant me. You don't look at me the same as last year. You wouldn't be here if Connor wasn’t. This isn't about us.”
I run a hand through my hair unable to find words.
