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"He's not," I drawl, looking toward him.
He looks away.
I should talk to him--have a real conversation, ask him what he wants. Maybe I should tell him what I want.
But my heart starts thudding hard, reminding me that it's too difficult.
I can't.
"I just can't handle anything right now with Alex around and so little," I say. "My first priority is my family."
Jenny nods, but I can see the disappointment in her eyes. She's always been the type to root for romance, even when it's messy and complicated.
"I get it," she says. "But just know that you deserve happiness too, Sam. And maybe Evan could be a part of that."
I shake my head. "I don't think so. He's leaving soon anyways, and I..."
I've been having panic attacks.
I can't deal with losing someone else.
I don't have time to dwell on it, though. Evan finishes up with the kennels and comes back to the front desk, looking tired but satisfied.
"I'm done," he says. "Anything else you need me to do?"
I shake my head, avoiding eye contact. "No, that's it. Thanks for volunteering."
"Anytime," he says, and I can hear the disappointment in his voice.
I should talk to him.
Tell him everything, kiss him, demand he stay with me and never leave.
But that's not realistic, and that's not who I am.
I can do this on my own.
Chapter nineteen
Evan
TashaandChanceareover at my mom's house when I take her car back from the shelter for the day, the lights on in the house as I park. I can see their silhouettes inside, and I can hear their daughter's laughter; she always seems to be laughing, no matter what's going on.
I certainly don't feel like laughing right now.
I had a shot to make things up to Sam--to tell her I've decided to stay, that I already called Hopeful Hearts and told them I'm done--but I fucked it all up.
I thought I had everything under control, but I'm actually really fucking bad at this.
"Hey, man," Chance says as I walk in. He's got his daughter on his hip, and she's pulling on the short beard he's grown out. He seems totally unbothered by it, and I snort and reach out to ruffle her hair.
"Don't think your dad much likes that," I laugh. "You should keep doing it."
"Is she playing with his beard again?" Tasha sighs. "Lyra, cut it out!"
Lyra snickers and hides her face against Chance's neck.
"How'd it go today?" my mom asks from where she's whipping up a salad at the kitchen counter.
