said a word to me since.
But he’d been there.
Tall and commanding and somber. Looking better than any man should in his signature Converse and dark jeans with his white tee stretched perfectly over his muscled build. Drawing me closer while my mind screamed to turn away. Making my soul sing and my chest wrench open. Stealing my heart repeatedly just to crush it.
I’d never been so conflicted or tormented. My entire being was so utterly exhausted after the hours near him. And I was sure if I would’ve had to watch him interact with our kids for another five minutes, I would’ve forgotten why I’d told him to leave in the first place.
The man was dangerous to my heart. He always had been.
I stilled when his steps sounded on the stairs, mentally counting each one so I knew where he was. But instead of turning for the front door, he turned toward me.
A trembling breath broke free when he entered the living room, my eyes focusing on the unopened book as he came closer and closer.
“They’re all in bed.”
I nodded when he stepped in front of me, squeezing my eyes tight when I had the strongest urge to look up at him. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me see them,” he said, sounding like I’d given him the greatest gift in the world.
“I shouldn’t have kept you from them like that.” My head shook subtly as I lost the fight and looked into his eyes. Studying the emotions there and the sleepless nights defined beneath them and the way his black hair was all kinds of messed up from running his hands through it. “You can do this—what you did today. You know, come after work and stay until they go to bed. If you want.”
“If I want?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips as a huff left him. “Where else would I want to be? It’s killing me not being here with them every day—not being with you. We need to talk about what happened.”
“No, we don’t. I said not when the kids are here.”
“Then when?” he demanded. When my head only continued moving in rapid shakes, he rocked back a step, his fingers curling into fists before he flexed them and drove them through his hair. And then he was crouching down in front of me, hands on the arms of the chair. “You won’t talk to me when they’re home, but that’s the only time I can be here. How the hell are we—”
“I’m not ready, Beau,” I cried softly. “I can barely navigate my thoughts, let alone get through a day. I’m not ready.”
“Together,” he said, rough and firm. “We get through things together. Remember?”
“Not this,” I breathed, my soul crying out as our combined agony surged through the room. “Please go.”
Beau stood, body slightly swaying as he looked at me with open fear. “Savannah . . .”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
His chest pitched, pain and regret twisting his features as he gestured to me before gesturing in the direction he’d just come from. “Yeah.” His head hung and one of his hands came up to grip at his chest. “I—fuck.” He started away, steps slow and staggered before they stopped altogether at the edge of the living room. “Every last breath.”
And then he was gone.
As soon as the front door shut, I broke. A sob ripping from deep within the hollow of my chest as I crumpled in on myself. Body shuddering. Heart shattering. Soul grieving in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever come back from.
“What?”
I grabbed Madi’s hand and hurried her farther away from the boys, hushing her as I did.
Her eyes were round, her face lit up with surprise and excitement for new dirty deets. “When did this happen?” she whisper-yelled.
“It hasn’t.”
“But y’all are ready,” she said meaningfully. “When did that happen?”
“Well, why do you think I’m tellin’ you?”
She glanced behind her, a mixture of a snort and a giggle leaving her as she grasped my hand even tighter and danced forward with me like we weren’t already being suspicious. Like we weren’t talking about the two Dixon boys behind us.
Hunter and Madison were officially done with middle school and would be joining Beau and me at the high school next year, and I couldn’t wait to have my best friend at school with me again. But to celebrate the last day of this school year, we’d met up at the diner for milkshakes and fries the