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The way she glanced up at me made me feel like she was trying to crawl into my brain. “You don’t see her?”
“Nope. Last I heard, she was living in on the east coast with husband number four, so hopefully he’s got the patience and the bank account to stick around longer than the last three.”
“Probably why I’ve never heard her mentioned,” Poppy said lightly. “When did she move away?”
God, were we doing this in the middle of the hardware store? It was like prying the lid off a jar that had been rusted shut for a decade or more. The groan of disuse practically echoed through the aisles when I tried to fumble for an answer.
“When I was eighteen.” Reaching forward, I pulled a canvas drop cloth off the shelf and tossed it into her cart.
“And you stayed?” she asked with the slightest tilt of her head. “Why?”
“Henry,” I answered easily. “He was more my family than she was. And maybe your brother too. Can’t get rid of the prick now, even when I do something like get you pregnant and ghost for three months.”
Poppy let out a shocked laugh. “Are we joking about this now?”
I stared down at her, feeling the slip in my defenses, the way she dug her graceful fingers into them and yanked and yanked with all her might. “Maybe.”
She hummed, arching one dark eyebrow.
Waiting to see if she’d ask any more questions about my mom was agony, but my jaw unclenched when she dropped the subject. I handed back the paint chip. “It’s a good color,” I said.
Poppy stared down at it, eventually nodding. I pulled the color-blocking primer out and set it back on the shelf. She scoffed.
“I’m telling you, we don’t need it with the color you’re picking. It’s dark enough to cover.” I ambled next to her as she started pushing the cart back toward the paint counter.
Reaching forward, Poppy grabbed the primer and set it back in the cart. “He’ll feel bad if we don’t take it.”
“Saying no to people is liberating, trust me.”
As we walked, she gave me an inscrutable look.
I shifted, hands tightening on the handle of my cart. “What?”
“I’m not sure I should say it,” she admitted quietly, her eyes deep and dark under the harsh fluorescent lights.
“Well now you better.”
Her lips ghosted up in a smile.“Sometimesyou have a problem saying no to people.”
I snorted. “Like when?”
The smile faded, a heart-crushing sincerity left in its wake. “You didn’t say no to me,” she said quietly.
The rapid thrumming of my pulse was anything but even. My stomach churned with the way she said it, my throat closing tight with all the words I was shoving down.
Because I wanted you too bad.
Because you’re fucking perfect.
Because that night was everything good and right, and if you’d let me, I’d keep you.
Because when I close my eyes, you’re mine.
“I didn’t,” I replied evenly.
Poppy’s breath caught in her throat, like I’d said all those other words out loud. And for a clock-stopping moment, I had to remind myself that I didn’t.
“I’m going to get the paint,” she said unevenly. Poppy didn’t wait to see me nod slowly, just left me with the cart and didn’t wait to see me drop my chin to my chest as I struggled to breathe.
