The old man’s words sit in the back of my mind every damn day. Ignoring them is nearly impossible. They lurk like a creepy shadow, hovering over every thought.

Might be best to let her go then.

I can’t think of Brynn or the future without the approaching darkness of his words.

Walt wants to protect Brynn, I get that, but I want to protect her too. I don’t want her to make a choice that will haunt us. Somehow, someway, I’m going to find a way out of this for her.

The thing is, I’m not the only person Brynn is getting close to. Walt is attached to her. She turned his human equivalent of a growl into a whisper. Before Brynn’s arrival, I would’ve filed the chances of that ever happening under No Fucking Way.

Julia likes her too. Brynn has a natural ability to make people happy. She’s likable, she relates to people on their level. She’s not the ice queen I thought she was. She’s still hot, but she’s definitely not a robot.

Brynn’s with Julia now, helping her execute the plan to make the Fourth of July parade a big deal. This afternoon I have my meeting with Candace, the person in charge of taking the empty space on Main and making it into an art gallery. She’s coming to my house to see my work, and I’ve been trying to set up everything the way I want her to see it. When Brynn left this morning, she suggested the big windows in my detached garage might make for good lighting, and when I looked out there, I saw what she meant. Big windows run down both sides of the walls, making for a bright space. I spent most of the morning cleaning up the room, and I’ve just finished moving in all the paintings.

It’s warm today, despite the heat wave breaking, and my sweat has soaked through my shirt. The garage door is open while I arrange everything. Old country music filters through my work area. My mom has a thing for Patsy Cline, and although I refuse to admit it out loud, so do I. “Crazy” plays loudly from my open laptop as I stand back and survey the painting I hung a moment ago.

Hands snake around my waist, startling me, but the feeling goes away quickly. “That was fast,” I say, turning around to kiss Brynn.

But it’s not Brynn.

“What the hell?” I shout into Desiree’s face. Everything in her expression looks smug. The set of her mouth, the shine in her eyes, the rise of her cheekbones.

“Surprise,” she says, her voice seductive. There was a time when that voice could melt me, but that time is long gone. And dead.

Her arms tighten, as though she’s going to pull me closer. I put my hands around hers and push them off my hips, taking a step back. “What do you want?”

She pouts. “You’re not happy to see me?”

I say nothing. There is no part of me that wants this person to be here.

“Aw, come on, Connor.” She steps closer and traces her fingertips over my stomach. “Do you like my hair? I grew it out, just like you wanted me to.”

“I think you need to find a dictionary and look up what the term broken up means.” I swat her hand away. I’m curious to know why she’s back, but I don’t want to ask. More than anything, I’d like to know when she’s leaving again. Maybe I can buy her a one-way ticket.

“Don’t be mad at me, Connor. I’ve missed you.” She blinks up at me, trying her best to look innocent. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”

Behind Desiree, a car pulls into my driveway. Shit.

Julia and Brynn peer through the windshield, the same confused look on their faces. Julia knows Candace, so she knows this isn’t her. She says something to Brynn, and Brynn nods slowly. Desiree turns around, glaring at the car, and then the worst thing happens. Julia starts to back out.

Hurrying around Desiree, I jog out to where the car was parked and wave my arms. “Stop,” I say, but Julia ignores me, and Brynn? She smiles. She fucking smiles. It’s a disappointed, reluctant grin, and I hear the words hidden underneath. Be open to Desiree. It’s okay. This was temporary, right?

The car moves farther down the street, then turns and disappears.

“Fuck,” I yell, my hands fisted at my sides. “You.” I point at the she-devil still standing in my garage. “Leave. Now.”

Desiree stalks out in her tall heels and tight skirt. Her dumb clothes only make me want Brynn’s snarky T-shirts more. She stops when she gets close to me. “If she wanted you, she would’ve stayed to fight for you. Keep that in mind.”

“Fuck off, Desiree. Don’t come back here.”

She strides down the driveway and to her car, pausing at her open car door. “Ball’s in your court. You know where to find me.”

Hurrying inside, I grab my phone and call Brynn. It goes to voicemail. No surprise there. Candace will be here soon, so I can’t go after her, but the second Candace is gone, I’m out of here like my ass is on fire. Brynn doesn’t need any more nudging in the direction of that beach in South America, and Desiree may have just given her the shove she needed to skip town.

There aren’t too many places she could be. She doesn’t have a car. I’ve already tried her house. Wherever she is has to be within walking distance, unless Julia took her somewhere. Anthony could help me figure that out, but I’d rather not bring him into my drama.

“Come on, Brynn,” I mutter, circling the same route for what feels like the hundredth time. She’s not downtown, that I can tell. I parked and walked all through the busiest areas, looking for her. I went into the places I know she likes to eat, I walked through the grocery store, I checked the library. Nothing. That leaves me with one more choice.

I slow to a stop and get out. I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t my last option.

I climb the steps and knock on the door, remembering what Brynn said about how he watches everything from his front window. If that’s true, it means he has noticed each passing of my truck, and he knows I’m here right now.

Finally, he answers the door. “What do you want?” he growls. Any progress I made with him last weekend is gone, but that tells me Brynn is here now, or was here at some point.

“Is Brynn here?”

“No,” he says, curt. “Anything else?”

“When was she here?”

“She left twenty minutes ago, after the last time we saw your truck pass.”

“Which direction did she go?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

I squeeze my eyes and try not to give in to my desire to say something rude.

“I guess I should thank you, boy. You reminded her that she needs to put her well-being first. You were holding her back, and now she can focus on what she came here to do.”

I’m over this conversation. Arguing with this loon isn’t getting me anywhere closer to finding Brynn. Without saying anything else, I walk back to my truck. It’s late and the sun is setting. Brynn wouldn’t go anywhere at night. She’s too afraid.

Turning the truck around, I drive down the street and into Brynn’s driveway. I know Walt is watching from his post at the window, so I send a one-fingered wave his direction. My mom would try to put me over her knee for that, but right now I don’t care. Walt doesn’t have the market cornered on asshole behavior.

“Brynn,” I shout, knocking on her door. “I know you’re there, so don’t act like you’re not.”

The door opens. She looks at me like she’s perfectly fine. There are no tears, no wavering lips. The waters of her eyes are calm.

“What’s up?” she asks. Her voice is fine too. Chirpy, even.

“I’ve been blowing up your phone. Why aren’t you answering?”

“I put it on silent when I left your house.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about that. Nothing was going on and—”

“Connor, I know nothing was going on. You were standing in your open garage.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

“What are you then? I was just at Walt’s looking for you, and the way he acted made it seem like you were out for my blood.”

She rolls her eyes. “He’s melodramatic, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Can I come in? Can we talk?” My weight shifts forward automatically, like my request will be accepted.

“I don’t think so. Seeing you with her was good for me. I needed to remember why I came here. You don’t need to be caught up in my mess.”

“I want to be in your mess.” Leaning my palm on the door frame, I settle in for a fight.

“Don’t say that. Nobody wants to be in my mess.”

“That’s what people who care about each other do. They sit in the muck together, until they can stand and get out of it.”

“No, Connor. I’m sorry. You and I can’t go any further. I got caught up and shouldn’t have allowed it in the first place. Please accept this as my immediate and official resignation. Personally, and professionally.”

Her hands clasp together in front of her and her face is passive. No expression whatsoever. On my face, there is a lot of expression. I feel the opening of my mouth, the shock of my pulled-together eyebrows.

“Brynn, you can’t be serious. Do you remember last night? You slept in my arms.”

She nods. “That was nice. Thank you for giving me companionship.”

“But… but…” I hate how I sound. I hate how I look. How can I salvage this? It doesn’t help that the longer I stand here, the angrier I feel. “Companionship? That’s what this was?” I’m working to keep my voice down, but it’s tough. “No, Brynn. No. You’re lying right now. To yourself. Your eyes have been telling a different story since our first kiss.”

Finally, fucking finally, her facade breaks down. She steps back into her house and I follow her in. She slams the door shut and turns to me, her finger pointing my direction. “You weren’t supposed to happen.”

“I’m not going to apologize for that. I didn’t expect someone to step in front of my truck while it was moving, but guess what? Someone did.”

“Stop. Just stop. Let it go.” Her hands move to her heart. “Let me go.”

“No, Brynn. You’re not deciding this for the both of us.”

“My mom emailed me this morning. They’re depositing money into my account next Friday. I can go away, Connor.” She looks sad, so sad. Her hand is at her heart, as if she’s holding it in. “You can move on. We always knew this was coming.”

I slam a fist into my open palm, the loud smacking sound bouncing through the tiny entryway. “Fight, Brynn. Fight for us. Fight against him. Don’t let him win.”

“This isn’t about only that.” Her voice wavers.

“You’re punishing yourself and you don’t need to. You. Weren’t. At. Fault.”

“I am at fault!” Brynn screams, tears pouring from her eyes.

“Brynn, no.”

“Yes, Connor. Yes. I saw her that day. Amy Prince. I was in a bookstore that morning, and she was there too. I didn’t speak to her, but I saw her. She was fearful and agitated. She needed help. Her baby cried, and she stared at it like it was this unbelievable thing. It cried and cried. She did nothing to help it.”

Brynn hands run through her hair, pulling it up in handfuls, then she drops it.

“I saw someone who needed help, and I didn’t give it. I walked away.” She wipes away tears with the back of her hand. “I got a cup of coffee and picked out two books, bought them, and left. She was standing on the sidewalk, and I had no idea she was going to step in front of my car, but the first time I saw her, I knew she needed help. If I made the right choice the first time, Amy Prince and her baby could still be alive.”

My heart twists. For Brynn’s pain, her guilt, and her shame. What happened was not her fault, and yet she can’t escape the feeling that it was. It’s utterly heartbreaking, but I see it now. I see her need to run. Eric Prince isn’t the only demon chasing her. Even worse, I don’t think I can help her.

“Come here.” I grab her shaking hands, but she stiffens, not allowing me to pull her in.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” she whispers, looking down at the floor.

Tucking a finger under her chin, I nudge until she gives up and meets my eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to happen. I get it, but how the hell are we to know what’s supposed to happen? One second you were driving in your car, the next second two lives ceased to exist. I don’t know how it can be that one second can change the course of our lives, I only know that it can. Amy Prince stepped in front of your car and changed your life forever. You stepped in front of mine, and my heart will never be the same.”

“Connor, please, I’m doing this for you. For us.”

“Bullshit. You’re doing this because you’re scared. Under all the guilt and fear, you’re scared of me. Of what I represent. My heart makes your heart want to run and hide, and you’re listening to it.”

She stays silent, but her face is strained.

“You have nothing to say?” I’m so frustrated I could tear my hair out.

She shakes her head, her gaze going left, down to the ground.

A short, irritated breath surges from me. “Are you leaving next Friday?”

“Possibly.” Her voice is tiny.

“The art exhibit opens next Friday night. Will you stay long enough to come to that?”

“Yes.”

“Did you mean it? Are you quitting?”

She finally meets my eyes. “I have to, Connor. I just…have to.”

“No, you don’t. You could—”

Brynn moves for the door. “I think it’s time you go.”

I stride past her, stopping when I’m in line with her. My gaze locks on hers. “Over and over I tell myself to let you go, that it’s best for you. What if it’s not? How do you know? How do I know?” I continue on out the door.

“We’re still friends,” she says, her voice soft behind me. “I’ll be there Friday night.”

I keep going.

Down the stairs.

Across the yard.

Into my truck.

I drive away, ignoring every part of me that’s fighting to turn around. Nobody said love would be easy. In fact, all the poems and songs make it clear just how fucking relentlessly difficult it would be.

I shouldn’t be surprised.