I sat crumpled in a heap against Emmett’s bed. Holding back the sobs, I pressed my fists against my mouth. There were no sounds from the living room. I’d done this before, been in this place before, but this time there was a finality to it that made me want to curl back up into a ball on the floor.

Reluctantly standing up, I dragged myself to the bathroom and let it out, crying so hard my throat was raw and my nose was a running mess. Standing on trembling legs, I splashed water on my face. My reflection looked back at me, appearing every bit as broken as I felt.

Why had I let these secrets go on as long as they had? Why had it been so hard to tell him? I hadn’t told him about finding out my dad stole drugs from Fischer, hadn’t been able to bring myself to admit why I’d been in that room with him, and then I’d had my chance and I still hadn’t told him. Now, none of that mattered.

A keening cry caught in my throat and I pressed the heel of my hand into the center of my chest. Since when did heartache cause physical pain?

Fear—that was why I hadn’t wanted to tell him, because I’d thought maybe if he’d known the true sordid story of me, he wouldn’t have loved me anymore, wouldn’t have wanted to be with me, with someone who came with so much baggage. I’d kept those secrets, and where was I now? The same place, alone without him.

Shaking uncontrollably, I walked outside. Leaving the bathroom. The apartment. And Emmett’s life. Not even sure where I was going, I found myself standing at the bakery. The comforting coffee, sugar, and cinnamon buffered me in a blanket against the slicing pain.

Going around the back, I let myself into the kitchen. It was quiet inside. Jason was up front, but I didn’t feel like dealing with the questions I’d get. My face felt red and puffy. Things were always so slow at that time of day, and my programming kicked in. I pulled out everything I’d need to make the next day’s dough.

I put my hair up and tugged my apron from the hook next to the walk-in freezer. At least I had this. This place had been my respite for so many years. Overnights into dawn, I’d stood beside Syd with a piping hot mug of coffee in my hand, watching the sun peek out between the buildings before the rush poured in. I’d spent afternoons and evenings covered in powdered sugar and frosting, learning to do something that would become what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

Sugar, flour, milk, butter, eggs—those were what you needed to make things better, to make someone smile. So many possibilities with those five ingredients: cake, brownies, cupcakes, doughnuts, and so many more. Not needing to look at the recipe, I began mixing. Each measure and pour filled the cavern in my chest a little.

The lies I’d told, the secrets I’d kept…it had only been a matter of time before they caught up to me. I’d been fooling myself. Like his parents had said, they’d seen it from the beginning. I hadn’t seen the writing on the wall until it was scrawled big and ugly right in front of my face.

He’d never be able to trust me again, and what happens when there is no trust? Deep down I’d wanted to believe he loved me more than anything, but I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t walk away at the slightest hint of trouble. Drugs, effectively functioning as a single parent to my sister, working to keep the lights on and my dad sober—it looked like we’d both been right. It never would have worked. We were just too different. I’d repeat that mantra until I believed it.

I worked the dough into balls, slipping my thumb into the middle and dragging it out to make a perfect circle. The machine would be so much faster, but I needed to do the work with my own two hands. Sliding the tenth tray into the metal rack, I pushed the whole thing into the industrial oven and shut the door.

The swinging doors from the front flew open and Jason wheeled one of the racks back into the kitchen.

“Hey, thought I heard you back here. Long time no see.” He came over and gave me a big hug.

“Yeah, I thought I’d get a start on things for tomorrow.”

“You’re going to own half the place—shouldn’t you be slacking off, not working even harder?”

I kept my eyes firmly on the thick wooden worktop.

“You okay?” His hands came into view beside mine.

“I’m okay, a little tired, and these bankers and lawyers have Syd and me running around like chickens with our heads cut off to get this thing done.”

“You should have heard her talking about you becoming a partner. She actually cracked a smile four times yesterday. Max almost had a heart attack.”

I let out a small chuckle. “Four? Are you sure it wasn’t the onset of a stroke?”

“Max said the same thing. I think she was worried about what would happen to the place when she retired or went back to her home world. Now she knows it’s in good hands.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Good to have you back, Avery.”

He grabbed the two last trays hanging out in the back and slid them into the display case out front. The timer went off for the oven, so I grabbed the industrial mitts and tugged the scorching trays out.

I’d throw myself into this place. B&B would get everything I had to give every day until I could fall into a dreamless sleep night after night. I knew I’d have my first nightmare since going to the beach house. I’d forgotten how terrible they were, how they made it hard to get through the day knowing they were looming on the horizon. This place would be the only thing left to save me.

A familiar buzz started as I transferred everything to the cooling racks. Taking the mitts off, I grabbed my bag. My fingers wrapped around the phone and my heart pounded. The flare of hope was quickly extinguished when an unknown number flashed across my screen.

“Hello?” The air whooshed out of my lungs at the caller’s words. “I’ll be right there!”

I rushed out of the bakery and jumped into a taxi. My heart raced as I fought to keep focus and not let the panic overtake me. I raced down the hallway, stopping at the nurses’ station to get the room number. Sweat rolled down my back as I skidded past the door, grabbing hold of the doorway before flinging myself inside.

My thundering heart pounded against my ribs.

“There you are.” The slurred speech came from the bed.

He had a bandage around his head and a splint on his arm.

“Dad, what happened?”

“I hit my head on the cabinet in the kitchen. The door was loose and it nearly flew straight off the hinges. Knocked me for six and then I was on the floor. I thought you said you fixed that one.”

Guilt curdled my gut. I had been planning to fix it before I left, but there hadn’t been time. I should have made the time.

“By the time you’re out of here, I’ll make sure it’s fixed. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. I know I’m a mess, Cookie.” His tearful gaze held mine.

My breath caught in my throat. He hadn’t called me Cookie in so long.

“I know I haven’t always been the best dad.” He stared down at his lap. “I know I fucked up a whole lot when it came to raising you two. It’s been so hard, and I know every day I’m letting you down. I was trying to fix the cabinet when I fell. I was trying to do something I knew I should have done a long time ago, something I shouldn’t have relied on you to do.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “The house was so quiet…too quiet. I tried to forget for a while.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Were you high, Dad?”

His tears spilled over, sliding down his cheeks. “I was drinking. I thought I could just have a little to take the edge off. You can’t know what it was like losing your mother. Even now, sometimes I’ll forget, and for a second, I’m happy—truly happy. The only other time I feel that is when I’m using, when I feel like the soup in my brain makes sense, but I know it hurts you. I know it hurt Alyson.” His voice cracked.

“Dad.” I pulled my chair to his bedside and wrapped my hand over his. “You can’t keep going on like this. You’ll end up dead. Is that what you want? Is that what you want for Alyson and me? To come home and find you dead on the kitchen floor?”

He shook his head and tears glistened in his eyes. “I know. It’s hard now. The house feels even emptier without the two of you there. I was trying to make space before you were really gone, not being around so I wouldn’t miss you two as much when you left, but it didn’t work.”

I squeezed his hand, swallowing past the thickness in my throat. “If rehab were an option again, would you take it?”

Dread prickled up my spine. All my plans, my savings, my future…the light at the end of that tunnel that had been so close was dimming by the second. Then there was the crush of guilt in anticipation of his answer, a pressure so heavy I struggled to breathe past it. How could I think about myself when his life hung in the balance?

He nodded.

“I might have a way.” I wanted to run screaming from the room and dodge the only option I had to save him—sacrificing my future, my dream, breaking the promise I’d made to Syd in order to fulfill my responsibility to my family.

The possibilities and dreams that had come with thinking of being a part owner of something evaporated just as quickly as they’d presented themselves. I thought maybe I should just stop trying to outrun who I was because life had a way of catching up with me no matter what.

“I’ll pay for your rehab if you promise me it will stick, promise me you’ll do whatever is necessary to stay clean—meetings, counseling, whatever it is.”

“It will. I promise you.” The tears in his eyes threatened to fall.

“Okay, I’ll make the arrangements.” Ducking out of the room, I went to one of the waiting rooms to figure something out. So far, no police had shown up. I hoped he’d told me the truth and it was only drinking he’d done, not something worse that would show up on a blood test.

I’d need money—a lot of money—for inpatient rehab. My stomach nearly revolted, and the tears I’d been holding back choked me. I collapsed against the wall in the waiting room. Sliding down to the brown carpeted floor, I drew my knees up to my chest. A sob caught in my throat. The tears had woven their way into the fabric of my soul. This is who I am now.

I reached into my bag, my hands trembling. My phone was in there somewhere. My fingers brushed up against the letters from the bank and the contract for the bakery. I couldn’t hold back anymore. A cry wrenched free from my mouth, and I slapped my hands over it then buried my face in my legs.

So close. I was so close to getting my dream. It made sense that both dreams for my happy future would die on the same day, that I’d been called to the hospital thinking my dad might have died, instead I’d been called for the time of death for any hope I had of escaping who I was and what I deserved.

The despair of loss gave way to panic so oppressive the room spun around me. Steadying myself with a hand on the wall, I made three calls: one to a social worker to find a facility that would take my dad, another to Rittenhouse Prep to let them know he would be taking an indeterminate amount of vacation, and the last, through my tears, was to Syd.

“Hey, listen to me, you didn’t do anything wrong. This was my mess in the first place, and thank you for even trying to help.”

“I’m so sorry.” My vision was blurred by a curtain of tears, and my words were stilted and watery.

“Shhh, don’t be. I’ll figure something out, or maybe this is a sign I need to pack it in and finally retire.”

“I’ll work however long you need me to, anything I can do to help.” The desperate edge to my voice conveyed a fraction of what was bouncing through my head. There were no choices. There were no outs. There was nothing.

A dark silence crept over me. I pushed my legs back under me and slid upright against the wall. I hadn’t ever felt this bleakness about my future before, not even when Emmett had left the last time. At least I’d had Alyson to get out of bed for. Now…nothing. It might have been scary if I hadn’t been so numb. At that point, I didn’t know if I’d ever feel anything again.