Libby finds me forty-five minutes later, parked in a corner booth at Wicked Good Donuts, with my Damn Dirty Bastard donut still untouched on the plate in front of me and the coffee in my mug slowly going cold.

She rests a hand on the bright pink vinyl seat with the tiny skulls-and-crossbones painted across the top. “Mind if I join you?”

I shrug. “Sure. Sit down. Have some donut.”

“No way, that’s your favorite.” She sits and reaches out to spin the plate in a semi-circle, pointing to the place where the peanut butter frosting is oozing out of the hole in the pastry. “And look how much filling is in there. And double the dark chocolate mini-chips on top, too. That’s going to be a good one.”

I press my lips together, wondering if this is the moment that the dam breaks, but my eyes remain dry, and that curiously numb feeling that took hold as I pulled away from my parents’ house settles deeper into my chest. “I think I’m going into shock.”

Libby’s expression dimples sympathetically. “Understandable. Brendan told Justin what happened. You want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t… I still don’t know what to think. It just… I had no idea he was even considering…” I sniff, pulse picking up as a whisper of fear penetrates the numb fog. “And now everything’s ruined, isn’t it? I’ve ruined it.”

“No, not at all.” Libs reaches out, covering my hand with hers. “Brendan was upset, but he was also really sweet to Mom and Dad while he and Chloe were getting ready to go. I think he realizes that he jumped the gun.”

“They left?” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Right. Of course they left. Poor Chloe, she was so excited about Secret Santa. I guess I ruined that, too.”

“No, you didn’t. They took their presents home, along with a huge plate of cookies, and Justin is going with her next week to pick out a hedgehog at this breeder he found. She’s over the moon excited.” Libby rolls her eyes, a half-smile curving her lips. “And apparently we’re going to get one, too, because Justin has decided that bonding with a baby hedgehog is all he needs to make his life complete. Of course, I’m going to be the one taking care of the little guy while Jus is out of town, so hopefully we’ll be able to bond, too. And I’ll be able to keep it safe from Terrible. I’m not sure how the cat will feel about having another four-legged thing around the house.”

“Right.” I drop my gaze to the oily surface of my coffee, wishing I’d added more cream, but I’m too rooted in my misery to go fetch any from the bar. “That’s part of the problem. It wasn’t easy last week. There were times when I was so tired, and Chloe was still going strong, and I started to wonder…”

Libby pulls her hand from mine, threading her fingers together on top of the table in a light fist. “Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you brought it up, I have to confess that I thought that was a bad idea. And not very cool of Brendan.”

I glance up, frowning. “Why? Chloe and I usually get along really well. And I used to watch her all the time, even before we started dating.”

“You watched her for an afternoon, or for a few hours while he did a PR event, not for a week straight. You were thrown into the deep end of the single-parent pool, Laura, without a flotation device.”

My first instinct is to spring to Brendan’s defense, but Libby stops me with a hand held up between us.

“Brendan’s been raising Chloe alone for a long time,” she continues, “so maybe he didn’t think about how hard that would be for you, but I did. I get to send all my six-year-olds back to their parents at two o’clock every day and go home to rest. But there are still some days when I feel like I’m too tired to do anything but nuke leftovers and sit in front of the TV drooling on myself until time for bed. And I have a college degree and years of experience to help me convince my kids to behave. All you had was good intentions.”

My chest softens, allowing another fear whisper to hiss in and out between my ribs. “That’s all most parents have, though, right? If I had what it takes to be a mom, or a stepmom, or whatever, then I wouldn’t have struggled so much. Maybe I’m just not strong enough. Or good enough. Maybe I’m a selfish jerk who should stay single so I don’t fuck up Brendan and Chloe’s chance at happiness.”

Libby’s eyes narrow as she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder. “Well if that isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is. I thought you were upset because Brendan was a doofus who popped the question way too soon. I mean, a sweet, romantic, clearly wildly in love with you doofus, but still…” She shakes her head. “But no, you’re sitting here being ridiculous.”

“I am not!” I pick up my fork, stabbing it into the edge of my donut. “I’m trying to be honest with myself.”

“No, you’re not. You’re making excuses to play it safe. The way you always do. But this time, you’re pushing away someone really special.”

I pop a bite of chocolate and peanut-butter-flavored sugar sin into my mouth and talk around the explosion of bliss. “That’s a bunch of horse shit, Libby. And since when did you get so mean?”

“It’s not horse shit, and I’m not being mean, I’m being honest.” She lifts a hand, uncurling her index finger. “You ended it with Theo when he asked you to move to Seattle.”

I stab my donut again. “I didn’t want to move to Seattle. My career and my family and my friends are here.”

“Fine, but you didn’t even try to make it work long distance or ask him to stay. You just broke it off, even though he was wonderful and sweet and you guys were clearly good for each other. And then there’s Dodi, Benjamin, and Henry, all of whom were crazy about you, and all of whom you dumped within a few weeks of giving them a key to your place or them giving you a key to theirs.”

“Henry was sneaking around and wearing my underwear without permission, Libby.” I point my fork accusingly her way. “That was not my fault.”

She sighs. “Fine, take Henry off the list. But you see the pattern here, right? The pattern of bailing when things are entering a new stage of commitment? Because maybe you’re a little bit scared of commitment?”

I gather icing onto the tip of my fork tines with tiny swipes before dipping the frosting in the mini chocolate chips, and consider Libby’s theory.

Finally, I offer a soft, “But Brendan’s different. I really love him. I love him so much it would kill me to let him down. Especially when it comes to Chloe. She’s his whole world and—”

“Maybe she has been,” Libby cuts in. “But that’s not true anymore. You should have seen his face when he gave me the note he wrote for you. You’re already a big part of his world, La.”

“Note?” I set my fork back on my napkin, hunger vanishing again at the thought of a message from Brendan.

Libby slips an envelope from her purse but doesn’t hand it over. “I want to say one more thing, and then I’ll leave you to read this privately and come back home whenever you’re ready. Justin took my car to drive Brendan and Chloe back to the city. He’s going to hang out with them for a while and then sleep at his place. I told Mom and Dad we’d both be spending the night here, so we can talk later if you want. Or we can watch Love Actually and eat popcorn and not talk at all. Whichever you think will make you feel better.”

“How about Christmas Vacation instead?”

“Right,” Libby says, nose wrinkling. “Sometimes dumb comedy is the best cure for what ails. I agree.”

“So, what’s the one thing you wanted to say?” I ask, fingers itching to snatch the letter from Libby’s hand.

“Remember when we were little and I was still stuttering a lot? And how protective you were anytime anyone made fun of me?”

I nod, wishing I’d popped a few of those brats in the mouth instead of giving them a verbal lashing. I’m sure none of the jerks who used to torment Libs grew up to be decent human beings. What kind of person, even a kid-type person whose brain isn’t fully formed yet, makes fun a sweet little girl with a stutter and a lisp who just wants to play with everyone else?

“I remember one time you yelled at Bart Wiseman until he cried, and then you took me home and played jewelry store with me all afternoon, even though you hated that game.”

“It was a stupid game,” I say. “But you were sad, so…”

Libby smiles. “And you promised me on the way home that you would always keep me safe. No matter what. Even though you were only nine years old. Even back then, you tried so hard to make the world a better, fairer place.”

I shrug, uncomfortable with the compliments, especially now, when I’ve ruined a family celebration and hurt a person I love.

“And while that’s very noble and sweet, it’s also impossible,” Libby continues. “The world is never going to be fair, and you can’t keep anyone safe. Not me, or Justin, or Brendan, or Chloe, or anyone else. Life is messy and dangerous, and so is love.”

She pauses, holding my gaze with an intensity that is very un-Libby-like. “But it’s worth the risk. Because if you don’t go out on that limb or wade into that deep water and take a chance, you end up becoming one of the numb people. And sure, you won’t get messy with the ugly stuff—you won’t let anyone down or break anyone’s heart or have yours broken instead—but you won’t get messy with the good stuff, either. You know? Does that make sense?”

I study Libby for a long moment before I nod, wondering when my little sister got so clever. And brave.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to rush into anything you’re not ready for,” she adds with a smile as she hands over Brendan’s letter. “I have a feeling this man will wait as long as you need him to wait. As long as you give him some hope to hang his hat on.”

I take the envelope and stand, pulling her into a hug as she slides out of the booth. “Thanks, Libby,” I murmur to the top of her head.

“My pleasure.” She pulls away with a sparkle in her eyes. “It’s nice to be the sister who gives the advice for a change. I could get used to being the not angsty or confused one.”

I roll my eyes. “No, way. I enjoy my role as the know-it-all big sister. I’m getting back to it as soon as possible.”

Libby waves as she backs toward the door, wishing me good luck.

I reclaim my seat, pulse thready with nerves as I open the letter and smooth the page of notebook paper flat on the table in front of me, hoping Brendan doesn’t hate me for running away.

---

---

My first instinct is to rush to my car, jump in, and drive back to the city as fast as the speed limit and Christmas Eve traffic will allow.

Simply reading a note from him is enough to fill my head with his voice and his smell and his touch and a hundred other sense-memories of this man who is already a part of me. Right now, from this distance, my worries seem crazy. He loves me, I love him, we both love Chloe—surely we can figure everything else out as we go along.

But the fact remains that I ran from his proposal.

No matter what Libby thinks, I’m not a runner. At least, not like that. If I’m going to bail on a relationship, I consider all the options and alternatives, weigh my choices carefully, and extricate myself from the situation with as little drama as possible. My breakup with Henry was the first and only time I impulsively ordered someone out of my life in a knee-jerk reaction.

Seeing your boyfriend’s hairy balls cradled tenderly in your blue satin panties will do that to a girl…

But a proposal isn’t an emotionally or visually scarring event. Even a jump-the-gun proposal. Yes, Brendan and I have only been dating for a month, but we’ve been friends for much longer.

Though, now that I know the real Brendan—the relaxed, open, sexy, generous, funny Brendan—that cranky guy I used to work with seems almost like another person. He’s changed. And maybe that’s part of the hesitance.

What if he changes back again, the way he did after our weekend at the beach?

That’s why you should move in together and give it a trial run for six months or so before you start talking lifetime commitment.

He said he would wait, so what are you waiting for?

Go find him and put you both out of your misery.

But instead, I sit staring at the uneaten half of my donut, thinking about deep water and inching out on limbs and how terrifying it was to watch Chloe ski down that run in front of me and know there was nothing I could do to save her if she took a tumble. I couldn’t keep her safe. I can’t keep anyone safe. Libby’s right, and deep down I’ve known that for a long time.

So instead of adding to the list of people it would kill me to lose, I’ve slipped away in the nick of time, before “I love you” could become “I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t keep you. Keep you safe. Keep you whole. Keep you with me when you decide you would rather leave.”

I stab my fork into my Damn Dirty Bastard and let it stick there like the marker on a grave, and walk out of the donut shop, carrying all my stupid issues with me.