Page 107 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

“I believe he did love her,” I said. “He told me about her and how much fun they had together. He was immediately attracted to her strong personality.”

Kleo looked at me and smiled. “I get it.”

“What?”

“You’re talking about Leah like she was a friend,” she said. “You’re respectful of her memory. You understand why Kannon married her. You’re not competing with her. That’s the difference between you and Leah. She wanted to erase you and you’re accepting she had a piece of him.”

“Of course, she did,” I said.

Kleo nodded, her gaze drifting to the gravestones. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How people can have such a hold on us, even when they’re not around anymore.”

“It’s love, isn’t it? Messy and complicated.”

“Leah wasn’t perfect. She could be jealous and sometimes a little defiant, but I promise you, she loved Kannon. She wanted to make him happy.”

“I believe that,” I said. “I think Kannon carries a lot of guilt that he couldn’t be the man she deserved. For what it’s worth, he truly did care about her. When he told me about her, he only said nice things. He told me about her love of kids. I know it’s hard to believe that, and as her friend, you’re rightly angry at him, but he truly did care about her.”

Her gaze fell to the ground. I thought I was picking up on an expression of guilt or maybe shame.

“I didn’t check on Kannon like I should’ve,” Kleo admitted. “I knew he was struggling just as much as I was after Leah. But I couldn’t cope. It hurt too much. I hated seeing the pain he’d caused her. I couldn’t look at him and see someone innocent. I was so pissed at him. I was angry that she was gone, and in a way, I blamed him. I know it wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could have done, but in my grief, I needed to blame someone. He was the easy target.”

I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.

“But he never meant to hurt her,” Kleo said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know that now. I hope he knows I believe that. We all do. He cared about her. He would have died for her. She should have rejected his marriage proposal. But Leah, she was too deep in by then. Too committed to the battle she had created in her own head. One that kept escalating no matter what anyone said or did.”

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to. “It’s a terrible thing, isn’t it? How love can sometimes push us to the brink of our own destruction?”

Kleo sighed and glanced up at the dark sky. “Yeah, the worst part is, everybody loses in such battles.”

“Communication. A little talking and things would have been so different for everyone.”

“Are you talking about you and Kannon or Leah and Kannon?”

“Both. If I would have told Kannon how I felt about him or he told me that he cared about me as more than a friend, things could have been different.”

“He never would have married Leah,” she said quietly.

“Yes. But now we’ll never know, will we?” I said the words heavier than I intended.

Kleo took a deep breath. “No, we won’t. And we have to live with that. But maybe that’s the nature of life—uncertain, unpredictable, and untamable. Leah used to say everything happened for a reason. She convinced herself you went to Florida because she was supposed to have Kannon. She was certain he was the guy for her.”

My heart squeezed at the thought. “I’m so sorry. I feel horrible for her. For you guys that knew she was in pain.”

“Honestly, I think she had accepted the fact he wasn’t her true love,” she said with a sigh. “Before she was killed, she did talk about other men, like she was opening herself to the possibility they both needed to move on. She knew she was never going to have his heart. Not all of it. But Leah was such a fighter. So competitive. She hated losing and she felt like she was losing to you. But if I’m being completely honest, I don’t think their marriage would have lasted another six months.”

We sat in silence for a few moments.

“Do you ever wonder if maybe Leah and Kannon were just misaligned stars? Like, destined to burn bright but not together?”

“Maybe they were. Just like some stories are destined to be tragedies to remind us of the fragility of happiness.”

“I think part of me always knew it wouldn’t work out between them. But I wanted it for her so badly. Leah deserved happiness.”

“She did,” I agreed. “We all do.”

“He just wasn’t it.”

I bristled at the way she said it. Her tone was almost accusing. “He’s a good man.”