“And you should remember that advice anyway,” Dad had chimed in. “For arguments in the future.”
Oh, I’d apologize. I’d tell him why I did it and why I was wrong. The question was, would that be enough? Because apologies didn’t guarantee forgiveness, and right now, as I stared down his apartment door with a stomach full of butterflies, I had no way of knowing if Devin would forgive me. What if he did forgive me, but wouldn’t take me back? Especially once he realized I was just starting to get my anxiety treated? He had enough on his plate without a boyfriend who—
Just do it. Get it over with.
I raised my hand to knock, but hesitated again. Could I really do this?
“I know it scares you to death,” Mom’s voice echoed in my ears. “Things like that have always scared you. But you need to stop and ask yourself which scares you more—going and talking to him, or going on without him.”
No more hesitation. I knocked.
Footsteps. Oh God.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Then the deadbolt clicked, and I opened my eyes just as he opened the door, and holy fuck, there he was. He looked as exhausted as I felt, and he looked closed-off too—like he had walls up that I was going to have to do some serious work to bring down.
I swallowed, willing my anxiety to hold back just this one time. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Breaking eye contact, he stood aside and gestured for me to come in.
I did, and my heart thumped as I toed off my sneakers. Devin didn’t offer coffee or anything, which was fine—God knew I didn’t need caffeine right now. In silence, we walked into his living room and sat down on his couch, keeping an arm’s length between us. That was about all his couch had room for. I wondered if he wished that middle cushion was a little wider.
Tony sat on top of the armchair, paws curled under him. He watched us, but he didn’t come over and join us like he usually did.
I started to speak, but the wall of hockey memorabilia caught my eye. That poster was still up. Was that something I should hang my hope on? Or was he just leaving it up because he was trying to shield Dallas from everything falling apart between us?
I shifted my attention to him. He was watching me, expression blank. Oh God, he was waiting for me to do this, wasn’t he? Of course he was. I was the one who’d initiated this, and it didn’t matter if I was scared shitless. I’d fucked this up, and it was on me to fix it.
Damn it, I shouldn’t have even bothered. If this is on me, we might as well call it a loss.
But looking into Devin’s eyes right then, I had way too much to lose to let fear choke me. The only thing scarier than opening my mouth and hoping for the best was staying quiet and never touching him again.
Taking a deep breath, I sat straighter. “So, I—”
“Wait.” Devin put up a hand.
I closed my mouth.
He studied me, and his voice was calm, but had a hard edge to it. “Before we waste any time on anything else, there’s one thing I need to know upfront, or else there’s no point in talking about the rest.”
I stared at him, and as I gulped, I nodded. “Okay?”
Devin looked right in my eyes. “That night when Dallas stayed at your place? And those times when I’ve had to take off or end a call to take care of her? I meant what I said—those aren’t going away. My daughter and I are a package deal, and that includes her health.” He took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “I know it’s a hard thing to deal with, but if that really is a deal-breaker, then we don’t have anything to talk about. If you can’t or don’t want to handle everything that goes along with—”
“What?” I shook myself. “Is that what you think this is about?”
Devin stopped, mouth still open in mid-syllable. “You said yourself you weren’t ready to be her stepdad. You had a panic attack over it.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to be any kid’s stepdad. Devin, I panicked. It had nothing to do with Dallas’s medical stuff. I mean, that’s hard as hell, and it kills me to watch her or you dealing with it, but I wasn’t bailing