Falling to Pieces Leddy Harper (ang)

Falling to Pieces © Leddy Harper All Rights Reserved No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental. Cover Design by Kim Black at TOJ Publishing www.tojpublishing.com Formatting by E-BookBuilders www.e-bookbuilders.com Editing by Josie Cruz

Table of Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Epilogue Leddy's Notes Coming Soon - Sneek Peak Hey You! More from Leddy Contact Leddy For the Reader

For my sophomore English teacher… You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You pushed me to be better than a “regular” student. You may not remember me, but I’ll never forget you.

Present day SIX HUNDRED DAYS SOBER. THAT’S a feat worth celebrating. So why am I sitting alone in a dark field with my back against a tree? That’s a good question. Maybe I was looking for something I couldn’t define. Maybe—even though I had gotten my life back on track—I was still lost. It didn’t seem to matter how many days I’d been sober, or how hard I fought to rein in my life, there would always be a part of me that remained fucked up. A part of me that I’d never be able to reclaim. But I was learning to accept that. I had to be okay with it. I couldn’t dwell on the past anymore. It had landed me in enough trouble, gotten me too far off the beaten path. I had to persevere and keep my focus on what’s in front of me. Although, it did become increasingly hard to fix my gaze on the path ahead of me, because a woman followed me every night when I came to this quiet space of land. Well, not followed me, she just happened to always be here. She’d come long after I’d arrive, and then I’d sneak off into the trees before she left. What made me watch her, though, was the sadness that exuded from her. I never got close enough to see her face clearly, but her slumped shoulders and shuffling feet were enough to signify her constant gloom. We never spoke, never even caught each other’s gazes. In fact, I’m quite certain she never even knew I was there. I remained hidden in the shadows while she perched herself on the end of the rickety dock, letting her feet dangle in the dark pool of water beneath her. She fascinated me, but I couldn’t tell you why. I had no idea. I didn’t even truly know what she looked like, considering I’d never allowed myself to get that close to her. I’d become nothing more than a spectator to what I presumed was her sad, pathetic life, a life that somehow led her to this desolate place. I knew because feelings of loss had led me here, too. At least she sat out in the open. I was too much of a coward to do that. I sensed a connection to her. A small, distant connection to a stranger, yet it felt as if we were kindred spirits or something. I couldn’t describe what it was that touched my soul so deeply when I studied her. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop watching her, and it didn’t take long before I began looking forward to the nights I could make it down here to see her. I’d learned her schedule early on. I knew it by heart. She only came to the lake in the middle of the field four nights a week—Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. So I made it a point to be here those times, too. This night unfolded no differently than the others. I followed the same pattern as I always did. I sat

against the tree, letting the shade hide me from view, and examined her as she made it through the tall, willowy grass. She wore a short dress that blew in the breeze like clothing on a hanging line. It appeared to be white, but color could be very deceiving this time of night. The moon hung big and bright, not a cloud in the sky to conceal it, and it projected a white glow over the entire field, shining off the lake’s eerily still water. It lit her up perfectly, making her look like a fallen angel. A devastated, soul-shattered angel. I knew her routine like the back of my hand and could’ve closed my eyes and seen the entire thing, but she captivated me and I enjoyed watching it instead. However, this night, she did something different. Normally, she’d pull off her brown cowboy boots and set them down on the warped dock before sitting on the edge. But this time, she walked all the way to the end and stared off into the distance. She held her head back, threw her arms out, and just stood there. My focus zeroed in on her. It caught my attention, because for the last six weeks, I’d never seen her do anything like this. She dropped her arms to her sides, bowed her head, and her shoulders slumped. I sat forward on alert, trying to get a better look. I already assumed she was a lost—and more than likely sad— girl, but this only proved to drive that point home. Before I could fully acknowledge what she was doing, her clothed body fell forward, diving into the lake. I jumped to my feet, not having a clue as to what to do. I knew the water had to be cold at night. I’d fished in it plenty of times to know. And I also knew how deep it was at the end of that tiny, unstable dock. Just past the grass that led into the water, a shelf lurked beneath the surface, and beyond that, nothing but deep water—at least fifteen feet. You’d have to be an idiot to jump in at nighttime wearing all your clothes and having no one to help you out of it. I knew enough to assume that she wasn’t just going for a swim. My feet instinctively carried me through the damp grass, toward the wooden path to the dock. Time froze, every step slower than the last, and all nature’s sounds dissipated, leaving only a high-pitched buzzing in my ears. I couldn’t get to her fast enough. My steps grew heavy. It was as if I became entrenched in quicksand. Time ticked by as my mind frantically fought its way out of a tunnel with no light at the end. I had to save this girl. I had to get her out of the water. I kept my eyes on the surface of the lake, waiting and watching for her head to reappear, but it never did, which only increased my panicked state. And then I finally found myself at the edge of the wooden dock, my eyes desperately trying to find her. My breaths came in pants, unable to draw in a deep enough lungful of air. I knew if I dove in after her, I wouldn’t be able to stay under long before coming back up, needing to catch my breath again. But I didn’t care. I jumped in, frantically feeling around in the dark, cold water for her. I jerked and kicked my legs, yet they hit nothing but endless water beneath me. I saw nothing except darkness. I surfaced to fill my lungs and then went under again. I did that once more before my hand finally touched something. An arm, a leg, I didn’t know what it was, but I grabbed it with all my strength and pulled it into my body as I kicked my way to the surface. The water broke around us, and the night air filtered over our faces, but I couldn’t feel any of it. I had been in such a panic, such survival mode, that my body never registered the water’s temperature when I’d first jumped in. My mind had been solely focused on finding this girl and getting her to safety. I couldn’t think of anything else. But once we reached the dock, I allowed myself a few seconds to look at her,

hoping I’d see life in her. Dark hair clung to her skin, hiding her face from me. But I could see enough to know that her eyes were closed. Her head lulled to the side, and I couldn’t think of anything else other than getting her to safety. With strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pushed her onto the dock and then climbed over her still body. I smacked her cheek a few times and then started CPR until I heard her cough. Then she coughed harder, spewing out a mouthful of water. That’s when I could finally breathe. Her eyes popped open, taking me in before pushing me away. Panic flooded her face as her eyes grew large, and she started scooting back on the wooden planks of the dock. Her hands wiped the hair from her face at the same time she moved from beneath my shadow, and that’s the moment the moonlight lit up her features, highlighting the pair of wolf eyes that had haunted my sleep for years. Night air froze in my lungs. A hard mass thumped against my chest as if someone hit me with a sledgehammer. I knew her. I knew her well. I’d tried to save her six years ago, but I never could. I couldn’t save her, and I’d ended up losing myself at the same time. She was the student that had ended me. The student that nearly ended my career. My life. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, realization dawning on her face.

Six years ago Aubrey FIRST DAY BACK FROM CHRISTMAS break was never fun. At least not for me. Everyone came in wearing new clothes or sporting shiny new jewelry. They clung to each other as if we’d been gone for two years instead of two weeks. Just another reminder of how alone I was in the world. While other kids opened new Nike tennis shoes wrapped in shiny gold paper, I stared out my living room window at the empty street in front of my house, imagining what went on inside the homes of my neighbors. It’s not that I’m not a Christian, or that I don’t celebrate Christmas. That’s not why I sat alone in a bare living room watching the television on December twenty-fifth. I did that because my mother was a selfish woman who couldn’t care less about me, her only child. Buying me new things or celebrating anything with me had never been on her agenda. She only ever cared about having the perfect image in front of those that mattered—to her, anyway. And since they weren’t around on Christmas day, she had no need to fake it. So as I passed all these kids in the hallway, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at their enthusiasm. Maybe it was because I envied them. I wished I had their lives, walked in their brand-new shoes, experienced the joys of receiving gifts bought by loving parents and caring friends. Whatever the reason, I kept my head down and walked around their gathering bodies in the hall as I headed to my first class of the day, American History. I found my desk in the back row, right beside many other empty seats because I was the first one there. Yet another reminder of what a loner I was—I didn’t even have a friend to talk to before the bell rang. But I pushed back those negative thoughts as I got ready for class, pulling my notebook and pencil from my backpack. I must’ve been so lost in my own head, because the sound of a throat clearing next to me made me jump. I turned toward the interruption and found the sexiest man alive staring back at me. What surprised me the most was that he sat in our teacher’s seat…at our teacher’s desk. Then I allowed my eyes to wander from his perfect face and found that he wore a dress shirt and tie. Kids my age didn’t wear clothes like that. Only teachers did. Oh shit. The side of my seat sat flush with the front of the teacher’s desk, so if we both leaned in a little bit

more, we could very well be nose to nose with only the top of the teacher’s desk separating our bodies. I never had a problem with it when Mrs. Ziegler sat there. Now it seemed to pose a potential uncomfortable dilemma. “You’re the sub?” I asked with what I intended to be a strong voice, but it came out breathy and pathetic. Enough so that my cheeks burned, and I knew that he noticed the blush. I wasn’t a subtle blusher. “No. New teacher. As you know, your old teacher had her baby, and she made the decision not to come back. My name is Ah—Mr. Taylor. And you are?” His smile blinded me and caused all logical thoughts to vacate my brain. All I could focus on was his voice, and how deep it was, how it felt as it fell over me, consuming me. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Not a damn thing. He asked me a question, yet at that moment, I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was. He was that gorgeous. Then he laughed and it brought me back to life. “Aubrey Jacobs. But I go by Bree. You can call me Bree. Everyone does.” My face burned hotter, and I knew my cheeks probably matched the red shirt I wore. Everyone does? That would imply I had friends. Which wasn’t a bad thing to let him believe, even if it was an outright lie. A soft laugh escaped his perfect lips as he glanced down at a piece of paper in front of him, making a mark on it. I assumed it was the attendance sheet, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away from his mouth to verify. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Bree.” Ah, the way he said my name. The way it rolled off his tongue, it sounded beautiful—deep and very masculine. I wanted to hear him say it all the time. And I made up my mind right then and there that I would study my ass off, just so I could raise my hand when he’d ask questions in class, and then he’d have to say my name. “Don’t you know your own name?” My question surprised me as much as it seemed to surprise him. I thought it sounded flirty in my head, but out loud, it was just weird. “What do you mean?” “Well, you said ‘ah’ before you said your name. Like you had to think about it.” I wanted to slap myself. Students didn’t make small talk with their teachers. They took notes, listened, and learned. They weren’t friends. His lips turned up into another heart-stopping smile, revealing a sliver of perfect teeth, and I had to force myself to keep breathing. His bright, clear-blue eyes twinkled in the lights from above as he cocked his head to the side. This guy seriously couldn’t have been that much older than me. Probably fresh out of college. He was young, fit from what I could see of him, and oh so sexy. “My first name is Axel. I’m not in the habit of introducing myself as Mr. Taylor yet. It’ll take some getting used to, I guess.” “Axel…?” I posed it like a question, as if trying to place the name somewhere, but in reality, I just wanted to say it. I wanted to see what it felt like to roll it off my tongue. “Yeah, my mom was a huge Guns N’ Roses fan. She had a thing for Axl Rose. Could be worse. She also had a thing for Aerosmith, and then I would’ve been Tyler Taylor, because she thought Steven was a boring name. If you look at it that way, I’m rather fortunate she chose Axel.” I laughed and nodded my head, agreeing with him. Yet I had no idea who he was talking about. Guns and Who? But the last thing I wanted to do was show my age, so I played along and kept my mouth shut. “You like Guns N’ Roses?” he asked, catching me off guard.

I scratched my chin and looked up at the ceiling, trying to come up with something to say. If I said yes, then he’d more than likely ask me about my favorite song—something else that I would never be able to fake. Saying no would be the safest bet, but then it’d leave him open to ask me why not, or what kind of music I listened to. And at the moment, the only singer I could think of was Britney Spears. And I was not about to claim her as my favorite. “You have no idea who they are, do you?” he asked while laughing teasingly. My eyes met his and I felt defeated. The gig was up. I couldn’t fake it anymore. I shrugged and watched his grin grow even wider. “No. Not at all. What gave it away?” “You did. Seems you have a tell, Miss Bree. Good to know.” “A tell? What do you mean? And why is it good to know?” “You didn’t know the answer, so your eyes moved around without focusing on anything. Like you were trying to find the answers somewhere in the air. And it’s good to know because I’m your teacher—I need to know when my students don’t know something. It’s my job to teach you, to make sure you have the answers before you leave my class.” Before I could respond with anything more than a nod, other kids began to filter in, their voices growing louder and louder as they made their way to their empty seats. “Looks like class is starting.” He winked and then stood up. My jaw dropped. Axel Taylor was tall, and even through his dress shirt and nice jeans, I could tell how well built he was. He had a trim waist, broad shoulders, and arms that filled out his sleeves nicely. The denim hugged his thighs the way they should on a real man—not like the boys walking around the halls of this school. Watching him move across the front of the class, I realized I’d probably fail American History. There would be no way I’d be able to concentrate on what he taught, not when he ran his hands through his thick, dark-blond hair and smiled that way. “Oh my God, he is so hot. I wonder if he’s single,” the girl who sat in front of me whispered a little too loudly to the girl next to her. Rebecca and Jill. They were both cheerleaders and, hands down, the two prettiest girls in school. Overhearing their conversation caused my stomach to drop and a gloomy mood of worthlessness to settle in. Not that any of us stood a chance with Mr. Taylor—he was a teacher and we were under-aged kids— but against those two, I certainly wouldn’t even be an option. And thinking about that made me realize that even without the competition of Rebecca and Jill, I still wouldn’t be good enough to catch his attention. Guys like Axel Taylor didn’t go for girls like me. If I were being honest, guys in general didn’t go for girls like me. I was quiet and kept to myself. I got along with the kids at school, I wasn’t bullied or anything, but I never really fit in anywhere. Kind of hard to fit in when you lived a life like mine. “Since when has a guy’s relationship status ever stopped you?” Jill teased. Rebecca smiled and twirled her hair confidently around her finger. I watched as the silky strand wrapped round and round, and wondered if everything was so effortless to her all the time, or if she ever had to worry about anything. Mr. Taylor droned on and on for nearly an hour, yet I didn’t hear one word he uttered. It would’ve been nice had the reason been because I was too busy staring at his ass or watching his mouth move as he spoke, but that wasn’t the case. Insecurities had built up too high in my mind, and I couldn’t find the

strength to get past them. No one needed to point out my shortcomings, because I knew them all too well myself. I’d never be the pretty girl in class. At least I wasn’t the ugly one, but being the invisible, plain Jane wasn’t too far off. I was smart, but not in the geeky kind of way. It was pretty much the only thing I had going for me. Maybe my mother was right when she said I’d never amount to anything. The bell rang and everyone jumped out of their seats. I hated the melancholy that encased me as I stuffed my notebook back into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I despised those all-too-familiar feelings of worthlessness that overwhelmed me with every step I took. Once they dug their way in, I couldn’t get them out. Insecurity ate away at me—the termite of my emotions—with no regard to the damage it left behind. “Everything okay, Bree?” His deep voice became softer as he stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest between the two desks at the front of my row, blocking me from getting out. He didn’t seem pissed, more like concerned. Although, no one ever looked at me that way, so I could’ve been wrong. I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his, wondering why he bothered to halt my exit. No one had ever cared enough to ask me if I was all right before, and I didn’t know how to take it. “I’m fine, Mr. Taylor. Thanks.” I just wanted to leave and move on to my next class, away from this man that had somehow made me feel even worse about myself. “Are you sure? You were talkative and alert before class, but then became really quiet once the first bell rang. And I’m pretty sure you mentally checked out during my lecture.” He dipped his head, as if lowering it to my level. “I guess I’m not used to waking up so early yet. My brain must still be stuck on vacation mode.” I tried to laugh, hoping it would ease some of this heaviness around us. More than that, hoping it would clear his worried expression from his face. But the forced chuckle sounded pathetic, even to my own ears. His arms dropped to his sides as he let out an exaggerated sigh. Could an exhale sound disappointed? “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t last long. Try to stay awake tomorrow. I’d hate to bore you to sleep.” And with that, he backed away and let me slide out of the row. I sensed his eyes on me the entire way, and I couldn’t breathe again until I was out of the room. At least the rest of the day passed without incident. I kept to myself, managed to pay attention in class, and made it home without any more confrontations. Yet my mood remained somber and nothing seemed to make it any better. Maybe it’s because I knew my mom would be home soon, and that was almost as bad as the familiar feelings of self-doubt Mr. Taylor managed to draw out of me. I rushed around the house, making sure I had everything cleaned up and in its proper place. Even though no one had been home during the day, there were always things I found to clean. And there were always things she found unclean. I could never win at her head games. The buzzer on the dryer sounded moments before the garage door closed. I knew I’d have to wait until she went up to her room before folding the laundry, because she hated seeing a pile of clothes—even if they were clean and fresh out of the dryer. But if she waited too long to head up to her room, then I’d have to run the dryer again, because if she hated anything more than a pile of laundry, it was wrinkled clothes. She walked to the fridge, and I studied her every step, wondering how long it would be before I could breathe again. But once she pulled out her box of wine, I knew it would be a while before I could relax. Quite possibly all night. “What’s for dinner?” she asked after pouring a glass of the pink-colored liquid, not stopping until it

was almost to the brim of the fishbowl-sized glass. “I have lasagna in the oven. And I’m making garlic bread to go with it.” “Better be homemade and not that store-bought shit.” “It’s homemade. With real garlic, just the way you like it.” I’d made sure to pick up fresh ingredients at the store the day before, and knew to use them first at the beginning of the week before they were no longer considered fresh. Especially since, now that school had started, I wouldn’t have time to hit the market after school and still get my chores done before she came home. She nodded without once making eye contact with me, only tipped her glass back and took a drink of her wine. I knew what that meant—she had a bad day at work. Mom wasn’t much of a drinker. Usually, one glass would relax her and two would get her drunk. Granted, her one glass was about the size of two normal ones. But with one, she would act calmer and tended to leave me alone, although I could never fully appreciate those times because I’d spend it worried she’d help herself to another. I watched, holding my breath, as she took her wine upstairs and left me alone in the kitchen. Her bedroom door closed shortly after, and I could finally release the air I’d held onto. The timer on the oven said twenty minutes, which gave me just enough time to fold the laundry and put them away before she’d be back down and expect to eat. Luckily, the clothes were still warm and wrinkle-free, so I sat on the couch in the living room and sorted hers from mine. If she knew I’d washed our clothes together, she’d probably have something negative to say, which is yet another reason why I never let her watch me do the laundry. One load was always easier than two, and less time consuming. As predicted, Mom stayed in her room until the timer went off, alerting us that the food was done. I stuck the bread slices on a pan and into the cooling oven while cutting into the casserole dish of lasagna and preparing our plates. I’d done this so many times I had it down to a science. Ever since my dad took off five years ago, the house duties had fallen on me. Which hadn’t been easy on an eleven-year-old, but I quickly learned to adapt. I had to take care of the laundry, the dinners, the cleaning, and making sure to stay out of her way. Before me, that had been Dad’s job. But he couldn’t take it anymore and left. And I wished every single day that he’d come back for me and take me away from this nightmare. But he never did, and he never would. He met a new woman, one who loved him and treated him right. She had her own kids, and even though I’d never met them, I’m sure they were better than me. That’s what my mom tells me all the time, at least. He chose them because I wasn’t good enough. He left her because of me. All that may seem like utter bullshit, but in reality, it was the truth. Mom got pregnant with me while they were dating. Dad wasn’t ready to settle down, but she guilttripped him into it. He tried his best, put in eleven solid years, stayed because he felt bad about walking away from his child, but when he looked at me, I’m sure all he saw was a life sentence. A jail cell. That’s what I’d become to him. I was the mousetrap that snapped his tail off—more accurately, his manhood. Because Mom had carried his balls around in her purse the entire time they were together. She was a bitch to him… All. The. Time. Nothing he ever did had been good enough. I’m sure she resented him for resenting her. Endless cycle that swept me up in the middle of it. Then, one day, Dad had had enough and left, ending the cyclone of nightmares—for him. Except, once that happened, I got chewed up, spit out, and left to fend for myself. In my dad’s defense, I’m sure he had no idea Mom would treat me the

way she’d always treated him. After all, she’s the one who wanted me in the first place. Except now she doesn’t anymore. I’m no longer a pawn in her game. I’m now her real life Cinderella. Only problem is, in the fairy tale, Cinderella was pretty and caught the eye of a prince. She had mice and a fairy godmother to help and encourage her. To keep her company. I had squat. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I was utterly alone. “Think you can pull off a four point oh this year?” Mom asked between bites of food, pulling me out of my depressing, self-absorbed thoughts. That’s all she cared about, my grades. Yet she didn’t seem to understand that being her bitch all the time took away from my studies. She didn’t care about that. “It shouldn’t be a problem.” “That’s what you said last year and then fell short at the end. Don’t let that happen again. You can’t have two years with low GPA scores. You need to get into a good college and make something of yourself. I won’t support you forever.” It was the same talk over and over again. Never ending. Last year, I ended it with a 3.95 GPA. But that wasn’t good enough. I heard all the time how I needed to pull it up this year so I could apply to good colleges. She didn’t care where I went to school. She resented me so much that she just wanted me out of the house, and she saw college as an escape route. And the only reason she wanted me to attend a good school was so she could brag to everyone at the office about how smart her child was. Because, apparently, a 3.95 GPA means I’m stupid. It wasn’t like she planned to pay for my school. I had to worry about scholarships and student loans. I certainly wouldn’t be eligible for grants since my mother made too much, yet wouldn’t pay for anything. They didn’t care about that part. All they paid attention to was her bottom line. Yeah, my life sucked, and I had nothing to look forward to. Even college came with a headache. I’d leave one hellhole for a mountain of debt. But at least I wouldn’t be under her thumb anymore. That was something to line my cloud with. “I had nearly straight A’s last semester. And my schedule is fairly simple this semester. I’ll be fine. I’ll get that shining four point oh for you.” “You know the good schools look at more than just grades. You need more than an A in art or physical fitness to get accepted. You need challenging classes. That perfect GPA won’t mean shit if you got it by taking the easy route. And they look at extracurricular activities, too. I’ve been telling you that since freshman year, yet you never listen to me. You’ll be lucky to get accepted by a regular, run-of-the-mill college. Is that what you want? A degree anyone could get? Where are your standards?” Her lip curled up as she rolled her eyes, showing her disgust for me. At least she didn’t add in her famous line: You’re going to end up just like your father, no education and living off others. Yet she conveniently leaves out the part where he dropped out of college to help raise me and allow her to finish her degree. Yeah, why would she take any of the blame? And she also doesn’t recognize the fact that if I had extracurricular activities, I wouldn’t be able to clean her house or make her dinners. Those were all the extracurricular activities I could handle. I would know this because when I was a freshman, I participated in afterschool groups. And then I had to catch the city bus home because she wouldn’t pick me up from school, meaning dinner wouldn’t be ready on time—meaning I had to deal with the consequences. Needless to say, I didn’t stay in those groups long, leaving me even less chance of

making friends. It was no wonder how I’d made it to my junior year in high school without one single real friend. Hell, I was lucky if people noticed me in the hall and said hi. I only hoped college would be different. Only a year and a half away. “I’m taking honors classes this year, Mom.” “When you could be taking AP.” I didn’t even offer a reply to that. If I took AP classes, I wouldn’t have enough time to focus on my studies, and that would produce lower grades, meaning my ever-important GPA would fall. I couldn’t win with this woman, so I closed my mouth and finished eating. I guess she had nothing else to say, either, because she stayed silent through the remainder of the meal. It was too much to ask that she at least compliment my cooking. But I’d gladly accept the silence instead of more insults and lectures. After dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen while Mom went back to her room. I didn’t miss the second glass of wine she took with her. That meant it must’ve been a really bad day at work. But she’d never talk about it. I never knew anything about her because she never offered, only criticized my every move instead of sharing anything about her own life. I had to learn about her through her actions, and having a second glass of wine was rather telling. It also told me to stay far away from her for the rest of the night. So I did just that. I finished cleaning the kitchen, took my bath, and settled into my room for homework. By the time I cracked my first book, it was almost nine o’clock. Thankfully, it was the first day back from break, so I didn’t have that much work to do, and most of it was easy. Because I found silence to be more distracting than a roomful of sound, I turned on my TV and lowered the volume some to add just enough background noise while not interfering with my concentration. But apparently, that was too much for Mom. I heard her stomping down the hall long before the pounding on my door. Our rooms were both upstairs, close to one another, with a small bathroom in between. The walls were thin, so I knew to keep the noise down when she holed herself up in her room. There was no way my TV could’ve been loud enough to bother her, which only meant the second glass of wine had kicked in. She was an angry drunk. And a cheap drunk. Two glasses of boxed wine was enough to turn her into the Hulk. It was a bad combination. “Aubrey Jacobs! Turn that off right now! I’m trying to sleep!” She sounded wild and emotional as she threw herself into my door. I often locked my bedroom door, not to keep her out, since I knew that would never work, but to at least give me some sense of security. I could hear her furiously twisting the knob while beating on the cheap wood that separated us. After turning off the small television set on my dresser, I walked to the door and flicked the lock, my heart pounding frantically in my chest the entire way. I braced my hand on the knob, ready to open it for her, but then it flew open, smacking me in the eyebrow area. I jumped back from the intense pain radiating through my head and noticed my mom had her shoulder pressed against the door, which would explain the force behind the push. The second the door made contact with the thin skin over my brow bone, it split and a trickle of warmth rolled down my temple. But before I could do anything other than flinch, she tangled her hand in my hair. With dark and wild eyes, she pushed the sore side of my face into the wall beside me, the rough texture rubbing painfully into

my tender flesh. “I had a stressful day and I’m trying to sleep.” She ground her deep, low voice out between clenched teeth, sounding nothing like the cold mother I knew so well. This was White Zinfandel Mom, her pissed off alter ego. “Do you know what time it is? Do you know what time I have to get up in the morning, or what I even have to do tomorrow?” She yanked me until my nose came closer to hers. With her hand gripping my hair, she huffed out a humorless laugh, her warm, alcohol-laced breath engulfing me. “Of course you don’t. Because if you did, I’m sure you wouldn’t have this TV turned up so damn loud, knowing it would wake me up. Unless you did that on purpose… Did you turn your TV on to purposely piss me off, Aubrey?” My chin quivered as I watched this stranger in front of me, her face twisted like the Scream mask. I’ve seen her livid, I’ve been around her plenty of times when she’d had too much to drink, and I’ve even witnessed her vicious side, but this was something new. I could tell by the twitchiness of her eyes, that this had nothing to do with me. It had nothing at all to do with my TV. It was work. Something bad happened today, and I’d just become her punching bag. I shook my head as much as I could with it pressed against the wall. I didn’t trust my voice to answer her, knowing it would shake with the tears that threatened to spill and sound pathetic with the tight knot lodged in my throat. She finally let go and took a step back, her eyes shuffling around the room as I slowly cowered away. “Clean that up.” She pointed a stiff finger to the smeared blood on the white wall, not even bothering to glance at me to ensure I was okay. I wanted to believe she couldn’t meet my eyes because of the guilt that ran through her over hurting me, but I’m positive that wasn’t the case. I’m sure her inability to make eye contact had more to do with her inebriation than guilt. I waited until her bedroom door closed before I crumpled to the floor and cried. But I made sure to cry silently, not wanting to chance pissing her off even further. It took me a few minutes, but once I calmed down enough to get up, I grabbed a dirty sock and got it wet in the bathroom sink, not bothering to turn on the light or look at my reflection. The pain radiating from my eye was enough to imagine how horrible it must look without checking in the mirror. Not to mention, seeing an injury tended to make the pain worse, and I couldn’t handle that when I had a mess to clean. I used the wet sock to wipe my blood off the wall, knowing she would be mad if I ruined one of her good washcloths. It was always about her possessions and appearance. Always. And then, after I had the wall scrubbed spotless and my tears had dried, and the pain became unbearable enough to see the damage, I went to the bathroom mirror with my first aid kit. Even before I saw it, I knew the injury would look terrible. The blood ran in a constant stream over my cheekbone, past my jaw, and onto my chest…much like tears. Except these were thick, dark-red tears, leaking from a wide split next to my eyebrow. I cleaned it up, applying pressure until it stopped bleeding, and then closed it with two butterfly strips. Stitches would’ve been better, but I didn’t have that option. People would ask questions, which meant she’d have to lie again. And, of course, that would make her look bad. I knew my face would look even worse the next day once the bruising settled in. And I didn’t know how I’d explain it without prompting any unwanted questions. It wasn’t my first rodeo showing up at school injured, and it probably wouldn’t be my last. But in the past, when something like this would happen, I’d have a teacher or two make small talk with me, asking politely what I’d done to myself. I’d give a reasonably plausible excuse, and then they’d carry on with their business. Normally, I wouldn’t

worry, except now, it seemed as though I had a teacher that cared. I’d have to face Mr. Taylor with a busted-up face, the day after he so sincerely asked me if I was all right. The first person in as long as I could remember who had showed me any attention, proved that at least someone noticed me, but he would see just how much things weren’t all right. As if things couldn’t get any worse…

I WORE MY HAIR DOWN, even though I hated it that way. I usually had my long, red hair pulled back into a bun, or at the very least a ponytail. Because if not, then I’d have to spend an hour straightening it. And with how thick it was, I tended to sweat a lot on the back of my neck, which always left me feeling gross. To top it off, it would frizz at the tiniest amount of humidity, leaving me with a giant, red puffball on my head. But I didn’t have a choice, because I had to hide the side of my face. I had been right the night before, it was so much worse today. Normally, I never wore much makeup. I didn’t think dark liner or eye shadow agreed with my coloring. Not to mention, my eyes were a light-green color, so the darker the makeup, the lighter they became. And to me, it made me think of a cheap streetwalker. But this morning, I had no choice but to go heavy on the eye shadow, hoping it would blend in with the bruising. Nothing made it go away, but at least I tried. In the end, I studied my reflection and laughed. I looked like a hooker that got the shit beat out of her by her pimp for not blowing him good enough. I made sure to keep my head down as I walked, too. Being invisible came in handy for times like these—not that this sort of thing happened often for me, but it happened enough, and being unknown helped. The classroom was nearly empty when I walked in, only a few people gathered around the first row of desks waiting for the bell to ring. I had no idea where Mr. Taylor was—I refused to lift my head and look. But I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever, considering my desk sat adjacent to his. At least the damaged side of my face wasn’t the one he could see from his seat. “You awake today, Miss Aubrey Jacobs?” I nodded and attempted to appear busy, pulling things out of my backpack. I’m sure I didn’t need everything I grabbed from all the pockets, but at least that kept me from peering over and finding him watching me. “Everything okay?” “Fine,” I said, opening my notebook to a blank sheet of paper. “Look at me, Bree.” His tone somehow soothed me even though it came out in a deep, hard timbre, very authoritative. I tilted my chin, angling it in his direction, and then cut my eyes to him. That was the best he’d get from me. Sure, I had my hair covering half my face to hide the dark bruising and white butterfly strips, but I didn’t dare take the chance of him seeing past it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” His eyebrows pulled together, making the creases between them deepen. He made it nearly impossible to hold eye contact with him with the intensity of his gaze. “Move your hair.” “No. I like it like this.” “You can put it back, I just like to see both eyes when I’m talking to someone. Can you please move the hair from your face until our conversation is over with?” He leaned forward on his elbows, getting closer to me. I licked my lips as my gaze bounced around the wall behind him, hoping to come up with a fast excuse. I had thought of so many I could use on the bus ride to school, but at the moment, they all sounded so used up. I ran into a wall. I fell down the stairs. All so overly played out and virtually see-through. Luckily, I didn’t have a chance to say anything, because he rolled his chair back and then stood up from his desk. I glanced back down at the blank paper in front of me and let out an uneasy exhale. But before I could fully relax, a large shadow hovered over the opposite side of me, and without thinking, I lifted my head. Doing that caused the veil of hair shielding the side of my face to fall away. In a matter of seconds, everything around me faded away. I could no longer hear the other students at the front of the class. All my ears could register was the heavy gasp that erupted from Mr. Taylor’s throat. The lights above didn’t seem as bright once his piercing gaze became fixed on mine. He crouched down next to me, leveling his eyes with mine. And my lungs seemingly collapsed in my chest when he reached his hand out to move the hair away from my face, so slowly, so cautiously. His wide, blazing eyes met mine and never left as he spoke low, growling words. “What happened? Who did this?” There was concern in his tone, yet it had a harsh, angry edge. Rage mixed with apprehension, laced with whispered sympathy. It was too much to take, and I lowered my sight to my twisted fingers on top of my desk. I had fought with my inner self about staying home from school for a few days until it healed enough so I could conceal it better, but that would impact my grades. I couldn’t chance that, especially after just having two weeks off for winter break. Now, I suddenly regretted that decision. I could’ve found a way to make up those grades, yet I’d never be able to make this moment go away. I’d never be able to make Mr. Taylor forget the damage on my face. “It was an accident. I ran into a door.” “What door?” “My bedroom door. My mom was in the hall talking to me and I opened it up into my face. It’s no big deal.” I spoke in a low volume, almost a whisper, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself. I’m sure it wouldn’t be long before the other students wondered why our teacher knelt so close to me. “You must’ve hit it pretty hard to cause that kind of damage.” Although I wasn’t looking at him, I knew he hadn’t taken his eyes off me by the way they burned holes through my head. Even his deep yet quiet tone told of how serious this situation was. All I could do was laugh it off, play it off as if it were nothing more than the accident I tried to portray. “Yeah, it was pretty hard,” I said with a small, breathy snicker as I peered into his eyes to drive my point home. “She was opening the door the same time I was, and my face collided with the edge. It’s no

big deal.” I tried to keep the smile steady and strong on my face, but my heart pounded so hard, I could feel it in my throat. “So, which was it…you ran into the door, or you opened it up into your face? And if it was opened into your face, who did it? You or your mom? Or both?” He wasn’t asking out of curiosity. It was because he knew he’d caught me in a lie. I could tell by the accusatory tone he used. “I said…it was an accident.” I made sure to keep my quiet voice strong enough to portray how I didn’t appreciate his interrogation and that the conversation was over without garnering any unwanted attention. He must not have gotten the hint. Unspoken conversations could be tricky, especially when you didn’t really know the person you were trying to telepathically communicate with. “I’ll ask you one more time, Aubrey. Who did this to you?” “And I’ll tell you one more time, Mr. Taylor…it was an accident at home.” “So if I call your mom, she’ll tell me that same story? If I call her right now, she’ll back up what you just said?” I couldn’t let him call my mom. It would only make things worse. But I couldn’t give him any more ammunition to use against me, so I had to remain calm and go along with it. Call his bluff. And hope he didn’t follow through with his threat. “Yup. She’ll tell you the same thing. Because that’s what happened.” His eyes shifted between mine, probably trying to find the truth in them. But I remained still and focused, hoping he couldn’t see the fear that ran through my veins, or hear my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Before anything else could be said or done, the music began to play in the hall, alerting the students that they had thirty seconds to get to class before the bell rang. Kids started filing in and taking their seats, and Mr. Taylor stood back up, moving to the front of the class as if we’d just had a casual conversation about the weather. My pulse pounded in my throat, choking me, and with every step he took away from me, my shoulders sagged a little more. I wanted to feel relieved that the subject had dropped, but I couldn’t help thinking that it was far from over. I made sure to keep my head down for the rest of the class. Panic filled me for the remainder of the day. I worried that Mr. Taylor would, in fact, call my mom. It wouldn’t matter to her that I denied it. She wouldn’t even care that it had all been her fault to begin with. Had she not busted through my door, there wouldn’t even be questions about what happened to my face. But she’d never see it like that. In her eyes, everything was my fault. It would be my fault that the TV kept her up, and therefore, all blame lies with me. I managed to skirt by the rest of the day without anyone else commenting on my face. I did have one kid in science class ask what happened, but I just rolled my eyes and told him that he didn’t want to know. He found that funny and laughed before dropping the subject and moving on. Other than him, no one seemed to care. And really, I don’t even think he cared. I think he wanted to know more out of curiosity than anything. The true test would come when my mom got home. I’d know within the first ten seconds of her walking through the door if anyone from the school had called her. It would be written all over her face; she wouldn’t even have to say anything. But after obsessing over it all day, I didn’t want to be anywhere near her when she came home. However, it would be impossible to avoid her since I had to be in the kitchen preparing dinner, and that’s where the garage door was.

I had just set the timer on the oven, thinking I was in the clear, when she breezed in. She took one look at me, froze in place, and then dropped her gaze. In slow, exhausted movements, she set her briefcase down on the floor and took her jacket off, hanging it on the rack in the laundry room she’d just passed through. I could see her throat working as she swallowed hard, her eyebrows pinched together in thought, but her jaw wasn’t tense, which meant she wasn’t mad. Maybe she couldn’t look my way because somewhere deep down inside, she felt bad for what she’d done. Guilty even. Maybe I wanted to believe that somewhere past the resentment and hatred she showed me, she actually cared. Then again, maybe that was simply wishful thinking on my part. “I’m, uh… I’m not really hungry tonight, Bree. You can just wrap up the leftovers and we’ll have it tomorrow.” Her words were soft-spoken, which coming from anyone else would’ve sounded remorseful. “I’m tired and think I should go to bed early.” Not once did she meet my eyes, or even glance my way. She kept her head down, staring at her shoes, and then walked from the room. Even her footfalls on the stairs were silent. And I waited and waited for the familiar sound of her door to close, only to hear the faint click of the latch, as if she didn’t even have the energy to shut it with her normal gusto. I stood in the middle of the silent kitchen, baffled at what I’d just witnessed. My mom was mean, sure, and what happened the night before wasn’t the first time I’d been injured by her anger. But she wasn’t necessarily physically abusive, either. It was a rare occurrence for my pain to show on my body. I typically suffered from mental pain by her words that cut like razors to my soul, not physical pain inflicted by her hand. So maybe she truly did feel bad about it. Maybe, now that she was sober, she realized what she’d done and regretted it. However, she still had yet to apologize to me. I wouldn’t hold my breath for that one. Her obvious remorse would have to be enough. I had never, in all my years, received an apology from my mother for anything. I wouldn’t expect one now. The rest of the night stayed quiet. I ate alone in blissful silence and then cleaned up the kitchen. I took a long, hot bath, hoping it would relax me, and then started on my homework—without my TV on this time. Then I went to sleep, replaying the way a certain pair of crystal-clear blue eyes held me with such concern. Concern I never remembered experiencing before. But the next night, just as I began to fully allow myself to relax, everything changed.

On Thursday, I walked into first period like I had the previous three mornings, except this time, anger fueled my every step. The wound on my eye had begun to close, but the betrayal I felt on the inside gaped open and remained raw. I stormed to my seat, ignoring Mr. Taylor’s cheerful greeting. After trying a few times to get me to talk, he gave up and moved to the podium at the front of the class, waiting for the bell to ring. I’m sure he knew I was mad. And he’d be an idiot not to know why. But the classroom was no place to discuss it. “All right, class,” he said from the chalkboard after everyone found their seats and settled down. “We’re going to do things a little differently today. We’re going to have an open discussion about the topics coming up in the next chapter. There are no right or wrong opinions, but I think we should talk about this before getting into what the textbook will be teaching us. I’m sure most of you don’t pay

attention to what goes on in the world around you, and I can bet that none of you watch the news. So if you don’t know what we’re talking about today, or don’t have an opinion, it’s fine. As long as you’re listening and observing.” The entire room went silent as everyone sat at the edge of their seats, sucked into every word he spoke. It irritated me how he could captivate so many kids. But I also felt envious that while everyone seemed to be so eager to learn, all I wanted to do was yell at him. Then cry. But mostly yell. “Today we are going to discuss our government and the role it plays in helping other countries. If you aren’t aware, we give and offer aid both financially and through our armed forces. We train and assist overseas militaries, we help with funding, and give assistance during natural disasters. So, what I want to know is, how do you feel about that? This is largely funded by your parents’ tax dollars, and once you get a job—if you don’t already have one—your tax dollars will contribute as well. And since this will be something you’ll have to deal with in the very near future, I want to know what your opinion is on the place America has in the world.” “I think it’s none of our business what goes on in other countries,” I said before anyone else had a chance to raise their hand. I didn’t even bother waiting to be called on. I just shouted my answer out, lacing my words with the anger that erupted inside me. Everyone turned to stare at me—most of them in shock since I rarely played an active role in class participation—and then looked back to our teacher for his response. Mr. Taylor tilted his head and blinked at me a few times, probably trying to figure out how to handle my outburst, and then said, “So you don’t think we should help others in need? You don’t think it’s our responsibility as the world’s leader to aid another country in the middle of a crisis?” “You said there were no wrong opinions,” I argued back, not wavering from my answer. “You are correct, Bree. Your opinion is not wrong, I’m just asking for clarification to make sure I understand you and to ensure that you have all the facts before making up your mind. Why do you feel this way?” I cleared my throat and sat a little straighter in my seat, ignoring the fact that everyone in the room had their eyes glued to me. I guess I wasn’t invisible anymore, but I couldn’t digest that. I had to come up with something to say. “I just don’t think that it does any good for us to go in and dictate what’s best for other countries. It’s their land, their people, their religions…their government. They should be able to make those decisions without the big, badass United States government coming in and making it for them. The end result is that it just causes more problems for everyone involved.” I took a deep breath, but it didn’t stop my angry tirade. Without thought, I continued. “Look at what happened on September eleventh. That wouldn’t have happened if we’d stayed out of other people’s business. We stepped in to help the Middle East, and it backfired.” “So you’re saying nine-eleven was our fault?” someone from the other side of the room shouted. It seemed as though I’d pissed him off, or offended him. Which may very well be the case. It was a rather risky opinion to share. Turning to that side of the classroom, to address whoever it was that spoke up, I started to explain myself before Mr. Taylor could interject. “I’m not saying we asked for it, or that we deserved it, or that it was right. All I’m saying is, these extremists hate us for meddling in their business, and they’re crazy enough to do what they did. And it’s not going to stop, because what did we do after that? We went back, and meddled some more. Where does it end?”

“Hold on.” Mr. Taylor stepped forward and held up his hand, halting anyone else from joining the discussion. “These extremists…they’re going into these countries and trying to take them over. We go in to keep that from happening, and that’s why they hate us. Because we’re stopping them from conquering these places and keeping them from growing their mercenaries.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand down the back of his neck, as if relieving tension. “Let’s look at this from a different point of view. Pretend each one of you is a country, okay? Your families are your citizens. Your house is your land. This might bring everything into a better perspective. So, Aubrey, say your sadistic brother is trying to take over your land, taking control of your country, and he’s slaughtering your citizens in order to gain that control. You’re helpless, right? You don’t think that it’s”—he pointed to a kid in the front row—“Steven’s right, as the leading country in the world, to come in and help you out? To save your people and keep your brother from causing more destruction to your family?” And with that, it became too personal, igniting a flame within me. The anger and betrayal I’d experienced walking into class bubbled higher, causing my hands to shake on top of my desk. “No, I don’t. Because it’s not his right. Maybe I have a plan to save my own country.” I used my fingers to quote “country,” hoping he’d know what I really wanted to say. “Maybe I’ve got it all under control. If I don’t ask you—or Steven—to come save me, then you—he—shouldn’t. Especially since no one has a clue as to what goes on in my country.” “So the German’s could have handled Hitler by themselves?” I had no idea who shouted out that question, but I had a feeling it was the same asshole who spoke up earlier. “That’s not relevant. We were brought into that war. We tried staying out of it. But when it comes to Vietnam, Desert Storm, Iraq, Afghanistan…we didn’t need to be there.” I could sense every pair of eyes on me, and it started to rattle me. In the two and a half years since starting high school, I’d managed to keep my head down and not draw any attention to myself, yet here I was, offering myself up at the altar as a sacrifice. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just a hippy liberal,” Andy, the kid next to me, said and waved his hand in my face as if dismissing me. I didn’t even bother waiting to see if Mr. Taylor would interject before arguing back. “Why? Because fighting sucks and I’d rather live in peace? Because I believe there’s been too much bloodshed and think at some point, we have to say enough is enough? Or is it because I don’t believe we should get involved in others’ affairs when we have our own country and people to think about? We’re blindly killing our own men by sending them over there. Why sacrifice our own for them?” It was an outright argument at this point, and completely off topic from where I began. But I couldn’t stop as I sat on the end of my seat, leaning forward to make my passion known. And I could already feel my face aflame with heat, knowing my fury was visible for the entire class to see. “And why do liberals have to be hippies?” “Let’s calm down.” Mr. Taylor finally spoke up and called everyone’s attention back to him at the front of the classroom. “Like I said before, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but there won’t be any name-calling. We’ll stop this now if we can’t voice our opinions in a mature fashion.” It was the first time that morning he appeared angry. And the first time all week he sounded frustrated. “She’s the one that said we asked to be attacked on September eleventh.” God, what was up with everyone wanting to put words in my mouth? “That’s not what I said!” I slapped my hand on my desk, unable to hold back the wrath that raged inside. All this had started because I thought people should mind their own business, and somehow, we

ended up here. “Back to us being our own country.” I turned my attention to the ass in the back who twisted my words. “Let’s just say your dad is beating the shit out of you. Would you want Steven to come in and tear your family apart to save your country? What if Steven came to you and asked if anyone was hurting you, and you adamantly told him no? Wouldn’t that make you feel betrayed if he went behind your back and stuck his nose in your business? What if his actions only made things worse? How would you feel then?” My heart rate sped up and the adrenaline pumping through my veins caused my insides to shake uncontrollably. There was no way Mr. Taylor wouldn’t know by now how I truly felt. The original metaphors be damned. Isaac, the kid in the back, sat for a moment, staring at me with narrowed eyes. “If my dad was beating me, and I couldn’t handle it myself, then yeah, I’d want someone to try to help. It’s called humanity.” His eyes held mine as if he could read me. As if the bruise on my face gave me away and he saw everything. “You’re saying you’d sit by and watch a friend get abused just because she asked you to? What if your friend dies while you do nothing? You’d just say, ‘oh well, nothing I could’ve done. She didn’t want help’?” Luckily, at that moment, the bell rang. Everyone started to stand, yet no one said a word. I, however, couldn’t find the strength to leave my seat. “No homework tonight. See you back tomorrow morning,” Mr. Taylor said quietly from his podium. The atmosphere in the room had become very heavy, and it seemed to affect everyone, including me. I blinked at the floor a few times before standing, becoming weak on my feet. I couldn’t shake the worry that I had just led my entire class to believe I was an abused child. I’d allowed my anger to get the best of me, and without thinking about how it would appear, how it would sound coming from the girl with the black eye, I decided to question people’s morals regarding child abuse. We were in high school, I’m sure rumors would spread before fourth period. By the end of the day, people would be talking about how my dad tied me up in the basement or how I had to eat dog food for dinner. Like I said, no one knew my life but me. But that would never stop people from talking. Mr. Taylor blocked my exit from my row, but I didn’t care. I had bigger fish to fry. I had bigger things to worry about than what he had to say. “Please, Mr. Taylor, I can’t do this right now.” I couldn’t even look at him, my eyes trained on the open door on the other side of the room as I fought back the sting of tears born in embarrassment and anger. “Come here after school, please. I’d like to talk to you about what happened.” I shook my head and finally met his stare. “I can’t. I take the bus home, and I can’t be late. If you want to give me detention, just do it and get it over with.” “No. I would like to talk to you. Come see me during lunch today since you can’t stay after school.” “Lunch? When am I supposed to eat?” “Bring it with you. You can eat in here while we talk.” He waited until I nodded before moving out of the way enough for me to get by. “Oh…and, Bree? That detention slip will be written if you don’t show up.” Well, it seemed as though I had a lunch date with Axel Taylor.

MORNINGS ALWAYS DRAGGED ON THE longest. It always seemed as though the classes before lunch took forever, yet the ones that came afterward flew by. But not today. Today, hours felt like minutes, and minutes passed by like seconds. Before I knew it, the lunch bell rang. I moved through the halls at a snail’s pace, not in any hurry to get to Mr. Taylor’s classroom. My earlier anger had diminished after class, after I’d been practically smacked in the face with logic. Logic I didn’t want to recognize. And all that remained was the sad fact of my reality. No one could help me. It only made things worse. Realism is what made me linger by the lockers, take my time while pretending to look for something, waiting for the students to leave the hallway. Once the majority of the student body had disbursed to the cafeteria or the courtyard, I made my way into his empty room, feeling my chest tighten to the point where I almost couldn’t breathe. “I started to worry you were going to stand me up.” He wore an unsure smile when he rose from his seat in the back of the room. The corners of his mouth lowered with every step I took, slowly closing the distance between us. I decided I would sit at the desk I used in class. It was directly in front of him without being too close, offering me a sense of security while in his presence. There were so many thoughts clouding my head at the moment that I couldn’t find the words to speak. I really had nothing to say—my emotions were in an intense game of ping-pong between being irritated and weepy. Although, I think my sorrow was enhanced by the reemerging anger over seeing him again. I had a tendency to cry when pissed off. He kept his gaze on me, strong and penetrating, yet he didn’t utter a word as I made it to my seat in front of his. And he only sat down again once I did. I wanted to hold his stare for as long as I could, but it became too intimidating, so I dropped my eyes to my hands and attempted to control my breathing. “Where’s your lunch?” He sounded nervous, his voice almost shaking. “I don’t have one.” I lifted my head to look at him and then held my hand up, stopping him from commenting. “And before you call social services, claiming I’m being neglected, I don’t have one because I didn’t bring it. I forgot it at home,” I said, my rage returning by the second, quickly replacing any bit of sadness I had when walking in. Just the mention of what he’d done brought it all back and reminded me why I sat in his classroom during lunch period. It reminded my why I’d forgotten my food at home, in too much of a hurry to leave the house and give him a piece of my mind. Well, here it came, any second now.

His eyes held mine for a moment before he bent down to his side, the distinctive crinkling sound of a plastic bag filling the silent air around us. He placed something on his desk in front of me, remaining silent until I glanced down at it. “Eat this.” It was half a sub from Subway, still wrapped in paper. “I’m okay.” His hand covered mine as I attempted to push it away. “No. You need to eat something. This is your lunch period. I won’t be responsible for you going hungry. And I’m not going to call social services.” I wanted to yell at him for the destruction he’d caused. I wanted to cry for feeling so weak and helpless. But I couldn’t do either of those things. All I could do was stare back at him, the muscles in my forehead going taut as I tried to express my emotions through my eyes. I wanted him to see the hurt and anger that filled me, threatening to drown me in it. I wanted him to experience the same turmoil that raced through me, destroying everything in its path. And I wanted him to know that it was all his fault. “Please, Bree. We need to discuss what happened in class this morning, but we can’t do that if you don’t eat. And if we can’t talk about this now, then we’ll have to do it later. I don’t know about you, but I don’t really care to drag this out any longer. So please, eat the sandwich.” He held the food out to me. He may have used polite words, which on paper would’ve come across as concerned and sincere, yet his tone made it seem completely different. It came across as more of a demand than an offer out of concern. Reluctantly, I snatched the rolled-up sandwich from his grip and began to open the wrapper. But then the intimidation of his tone wore off and the fury returned, causing me to slam the food on my desk. “No. You don’t get to make demands on me if it doesn’t have to do with your class. You don’t have the right to stick your nose into my business and control my life like a puppeteer. I understand that you’re an adult and I’m just a kid, but that doesn’t mean you know what’s better for me than I do.” “Bree—” “One of these days, you’re going to make a call—” “Bree—” “—that will cause someone—” “Aubrey!” His loud voice accompanied by the slap of his hand on his desktop halted my angry rant. “There’s a better way to discuss this without raising our voices or getting mad.” “Too late, Mr. Taylor. I’m already mad. You can’t ruin my life and then expect me to sit here and be calm about it. You can’t stick your nose into my business and then sit back while everything falls apart. You have to take responsibility for what you did.” He took a deep breath, leaning forward in his chair with his arms crossed in front of him. His eyes never left mine, except they turned warm, soft…concerned. “I was only trying to help.” “But I told you, it was an accident. Guess what, Mr. Taylor? Kids get hurt. We run into things, we get bruises and scrapes. Doesn’t mean we’re abused at home. Has it really been that long since you were my age? Do you reach a certain point in life when you forget what it’s like to be a kid?” “I know what you said. I also know what I saw. It’s not impossible to have that kind of injury from an accident, but coupled with your behavior, your explanation, and what I found in your records, I was led to believe that it wasn’t an accident. No, I haven’t forgotten about falling off a skateboard or getting slammed with a curveball during practice. I realize people get hurt, adults even. But I didn’t feel what happened to you was accidental. I still don’t.” “What do you mean, what you found in my records? What records?” He released a harsh huff of air and dropped his head, running his fingers through the thick mess of

dirty blond hair. I got lost in his mesmerizing movements, keenly aware of every motion, until he lifted his head again and met my eyes. “Our school has a strict no-tolerance policy when it comes to abuse. It comes in handy when the decision has to be made to call the authorities. So every teacher must report suspicious injuries. I looked up your file after school on Tuesday, and you have some questionable ones in there. You were sent to the clinic last year for an untreated sprained wrist. Your mother had been contacted, but she’d claimed to not have any knowledge of how you were injured, yet you told the school that it was done at home.” “So you took it upon yourself to accuse my mother of abusing me?” “This is my first year teaching,” he said on a sigh. “I’ve done some assisting programs, and even took a few spots subbing before getting this position. This is the first time that I’ve been solely responsible for my students. Maybe I jumped the gun, not wanting to let it go. Maybe I came to my own conclusions too soon.” “Ya think?” I interjected, needing to speak my mind before letting him finish what sounded like the beginnings of an apology, or at the very least, admission of wrong doing. “I told you what happened. I ran into my bedroom door.” “And then after that, you said your mother opened it into your face. It was conflicting. It felt wrong. And just the way you said it…it left me to believe you were hiding something. If it were an accident, why act so nervous about it? I’ve already told you, Bree, I’m really good at reading people. You’re not a hard person to read.” I slumped into my seat, feeling like I wouldn’t win this battle no matter how hard I fought. “I just don’t understand why you felt the need to meddle. Why you wouldn’t have tried harder to talk to me about it before jumping the gun and making a phone call.” “That’s not the way it happened. I asked a colleague of mine, told him about what I’d found, what you looked like, what you said happened… I asked his advice on what to do because I didn’t want to jump the gun on it. I didn’t want to say something before having all the facts. He agreed with me that it didn’t sound right, and told me to go with my gut. So I called a friend with the police department and talked to him about it. I simply suggested that maybe he could look into things before we make any contact with your mother. I had no idea anything would happen yet. I thought he’d get back to me with what he found and then we’d go from there.” “Well, you could’ve talked to me about it. And I would’ve let you know that nothing could be done. My mom works in the DA’s office. You think you’re the first person to check up on me? You think if my mom abused me, I would’ve made it this long without someone saying something—especially since you’ve mentioned this school has a zero-tolerance policy for abuse? Everyone in her office knows me as the clumsy kid. It helps her case that even as a young child, I always had scrapes and bruises from falling down or running into things. Which was the truth. I really did get hurt a lot all on my own when I was younger. She’s the best at spinning stories, probably from her time served as a defense attorney. She’s great at playing the part in front of others. And anyone that knows her—which includes the majority of the police department—thinks she’s this amazing person. I could’ve told you all this and saved your time and mine.” “So you admit it? Your mother abuses you?” “No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not a victim of child abuse.” He glared at me and cocked his head, lifting one eyebrow in silent question.

With a long exhale, I answered his unasked words. “She’s mean, sure. She says hurtful things to me and has these unrealistic expectations that I can never meet. And there are times that her anger gets the best of her. But is she abusive? No.” “You have documented injuries. I beg to differ.” “Those are rare. Few and far between. Most of the time, she just lashes out at me with her words, not her fists. And she’s never hit me. All my injuries are due to falling down, or running into things. Honestly, I ran into the door.” He shook his head, seemingly exasperated. “You didn’t run into a door. I would appreciate it if you stopped lying to me. Tell the truth. You already told me there’s nothing I can do about it, so why keep up with the lies?” “I don’t trust you, Mr. Taylor. How do I know you won’t keep trying?” “Let’s get one thing straight first. Verbal and mental abuse is no different than physical, except it’s much harder to prove. If that’s what she’s doing to you, then rest assured, there’s not much I can do. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to drop it. It doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore the fact that one of my students is hurting and then walk away, knowing you need someone on your side. I only want to help you, Bree. If that means being here to listen to you, then fine. If it means stepping in if I can, then I will. Trust me on that. The moment I have an opportunity to protect you, I won’t let it pass me by. But you also need to understand that I will do that whether you open up to me or not. It doesn’t matter if you tell me what really happened, or stick to your lie, because if I have a chance to prove abuse, I will, regardless of what you do or don’t confide in me.” “Why?” It was a simple question, yet meant so much. Why do you care? Why me? Why does what happens to me, matter to you? “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?” “The same as everyone else,” I muttered under my breath. He leaned even closer to me, practically sprawling on his desk. “I’m not like everyone else. I know I may be young. This is my first time teaching on my own. But do not mistake me as being like everyone else.” He sat back, giving me the space I so desperately needed. “I had a friend growing up that had it bad at home. From what it sounds like, your mom is just like his dad used to be. He used to terrorize Danny. Yell, scream, curse, say the nastiest things to him. Call him a retard, a faggot, every derogatory and disgusting word you can think of, his dad called him. Things no one should ever be called. Words no one should ever say. And it wasn’t just sometimes…it was all the time. He never laid a hand on him, so there was nothing my parents could do once they found out, other than give him a safe place at our home. This isn’t new to me, Bree. You’re not the first person I’ve ever met that has to deal with someone beating you down. Do you have friends or an adult in your life that you can go to? Even if it’s just someone to talk to?” I shook my head, unable to answer his question without my voice breaking. “I know it’s been a few years since I’ve been in high school, but even then, everyone had at least one friend. Didn’t matter if you were considered a nerd, a freak, a jock, or a loner…everyone had at least one friend.” My eyes locked with his, and I had to swallow down the need to cry. “I get along with plenty of people, and can hold a decent conversation with most of my classmates. But when it comes to friends?

How am I supposed to have one when they’re not allowed in my home, I can’t go to their houses, I can’t talk to them on the phone…and going out to the movies or the mall on weekends? Forget about it. So please, explain to me how I could possibly have a friendship with anyone.” “So you really have no one?” I shook my head, letting the words sink in. I have no one. “What about your dad? Where is he?” “About four hours away with his new wife and my two stepsisters I’ve never met. I’m sure he even has a dog, maybe a cat. A big back yard with a fence and a pool. I have no idea, Mr. Taylor. I talk to him about once a month. He can’t help me.” “Does he know how you’re being treated at home?” I couldn’t hold back the pathetic laugh that bubbled up. “Considering my mom pretty much treated him the same way for almost twelve years, yes. I’m rather certain he knows what’s going on, and just doesn’t care.” “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t care.” I clasped my hands together on the desk in front of me. My mind became so muddled that I couldn’t hold back the pathetic tale of my existence. I had no intentions of telling him about my life, but something in me snapped, wanting to give him a piece of my mind, even if that meant exposing my past to a nearly complete stranger. “My parents met at a party in college—she was a year away from her law degree, and he had just become legal to buy beer. My dad had a hard time with women—he was shy, awkward, and reserved. My mom had a hard time with men—they didn’t much care for her bitchy and bossy attitude. Man-boy with no self-esteem meets man-eater with no respect for anyone, and you have my parents. “She got pregnant very soon after they met, and despite his objections of having a child before graduating from college, they got married and had me. Since she was going to school to be a lawyer, and he hadn’t even gotten his bachelor’s degree, he dropped out to raise me. That was his second mistake— his first was not insisting she abort me. My mom has this idea in her head that in order to be successful, she has to have the perfect image. Be the perfect wife to the perfect husband and have the perfect child, all wearing perfect smiles on our fucking faces. So that’s what everyone saw. But at home, I witnessed something completely different. I saw a woman that only cared about her career. A man that grew to hate everyone. And a little girl that would never be loved because her mother could only love herself, and her father couldn’t even stand his own reflection. “So one day, he up and left, unable to handle my mom anymore. And because of that, he couldn’t deal with me, either. I was the reason his life fell apart, because had my mother never gotten pregnant with me, he would have never been tied down and treated that way, and he would have finished his degree on time. After he left, my mom resented me because she could no longer convey the perfect image. She became a single mother. And to her, that is worse than just being single.” I pulled in a shaky gulp of air, feeling the weight of my life pressing down on my chest with the increasing pressure of my own insecurities. “It’s not that my dad is a bad person, it’s just that he reached his breaking point and shattered to pieces. His new wife helped pick him up and put him back together again—Humpty Dumpty’s fairy tale. And then she put all the parts back in place, yet she left out one critical piece. So while his heart mended and his life was rebuilt, it happened without me in it.” “How do you know all that?” he asked, his words soft and full of so much emotion that each syllable

felt like a stabbing pain behind my breastbone. “Things my mom has told me during her fits of anger, things my father has told me, and things I put together myself while eavesdropping on their fights. Things I’ve figured out on my own from growing up and watching them.” “Well, I have a few things I want to say. And I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?” He waited for my hesitant nod before continuing. “Your dad’s first mistake wasn’t that he didn’t insist on an abortion. That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re worth more than that, Aubrey. You hear me? You are an incredibly smart person, with a very bright future ahead of you, but only if you stop listening to the trash you’ve been fed. His first mistake was not getting out of that situation sooner, and more importantly, not getting you out of it, as well. And you really have to stop listening to your mother. Do what you have to until you graduate, and then get the hell out. And never look back. If she ever touches you again, and I don’t care if it’s by her hand or a door, you let me know. You let someone know. Anyone. You’re better than this, Aubrey. You deserve so much more. You are not unlovable. I’ve seen you for all of four hours total since I first met you, and a quarter of that time was spent with you yelling at half your class”—a smile spread across his face in jest—“yet I’ve seen enough to know this about you.” The tears I’d held onto since walking into his classroom slipped past my lids and trailed down my face, leaving warm, salty tracks on my cheeks. I didn’t even have enough strength to stop them or wipe them away. All I could do was stare into his icy-blue eyes and believe him. My God, I actually believed him. “Do you hear me, Aubrey? Do you understand me?” I nodded, my words catching in my throat. “You come to me next time.” He scribbled something on a sticky note and then slapped it on the front of his desk, right in front of me. “Call me if she ever does anything again. I don’t care what time it is.” “I’m pretty sure handing your phone number out to female students is frowned upon. This may be your first year teaching, but I’d assume that’s common knowledge.” I tried to joke with him, tried to lighten the heavy situation with my own ironic humor. He shrugged with a sly grin on his lips, the tension slowly fading away. “Yeah, I’m sure it is. But I don’t care. I won’t allow any of my students, male or female, to live in an abusive home and not have anyone to turn to.” I folded the small yellow paper and curled it into my fist. “Am I your new Danny? Your new project? Is that what this is? I think you have a hero complex. You just want to save the poor, defenseless teenager.” “Call it whatever you want, just as long as you have someone in your corner. That’s all I care about. Whether it’s me, or a girl in your gym class, I don’t care. You don’t deserve to live like this, Aubrey. And the faster you figure that out, the better your life will be.” He finally unwrapped his sandwich. “Now eat,” he said with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes. I had wanted someone to talk to for so long, but I had no idea that it would’ve come in the form of a sexy, demanding history teacher. How ironic. I was the girl he couldn’t protect. And he was the guy I couldn’t touch. “You said my call made things worse… What does that mean?” I shrugged, contemplating how open I wanted to be with him. I had already told him things I’d never

told anyone. This new openness felt strange, but good, too, like I had someone in my corner, just this once. “Just a lot of yelling, fighting. Well, not really fighting, because that would mean it went back and forth. But it didn’t. I sat there and took it. I didn’t get physically hurt, if that’s what you’re asking. She was pissed and made it known. That’s all you really need to know.” I expressed my contentment silently as I turned my eyes to the side to peer at him, letting him understand that I was okay. “So,” he said after taking a bite of his own sandwich, “are you going to tell me what happened to your face now? The truth?” The corners of my mouth curved upward as I picked out the onions and shook my head. “No. You don’t need to hear what she does to me. You already know the truth. You don’t need to hear the fucked-up story of it all.” He laughed and it caught my attention, making me look his way. “Aubrey, I understand you’re a teenager, and teenagers like to cuss. In times like this, when it’s just you and me, you’re allowed as long as it’s not directed at me, but please refrain from it during class.” His grin remained, growing larger and larger as he spoke. “I know I’m young, but I can’t allow my students to talk like that. It’ll give me a bad reputation.” “How young are you?” I asked, and then prayed that he wouldn’t deem that inappropriate. The question had popped into my mind and crept onto my tongue before I could stop it. He placed the sandwich on the opened wrapper in front of him and cleared his throat. “Twenty-four.” “Soon to be twenty-five? Or did you recently have a birthday?” His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but fought against it. “I just turned twenty-four a couple weeks ago.” I hummed to myself and nodded. “That’s cool. My birthday is next month.” The overeager grin won and broke free across his face, showing off his straight set of pearly white teeth and the dimple on one side. Yet he kept his eyes down and didn’t say a word. My stomach dipped at the thought that he’d been thinking the same thing as I was. Only one more year.

THE REST OF THE WEEK went by with ease, both at school and at home. Mr. Taylor’s class went back to normal, and it was as if no one remembered the outburst I’d had on Thursday. And as for my teacher, he greeted me in the morning like he had every morning before, and taught from his podium like usual. Like I said, back to normal—except for the quick exchanging of glances from across the room. The ones where we’d catch each other’s eye, and the split second of silence that followed burned like a spark of electricity igniting in my lower belly. He’d ended class a few minutes early and headed back to his desk. The way his eyes kept lifting to where I sat, yet not quite making contact with mine, left me to believe he’d wanted to speak to me after class. But that had been interrupted by Rebecca when she lingered at his side with her hip pressed against the edge of his desk, her jean skirt riding up her thigh. “Is this your girlfriend? Maybe your wife?” Her question caught my attention, causing me to snap my head up. Her fingers lightly touched a picture frame while her eyes remained glued to Mr. Taylor’s face. I watched it all closely, from his expression to the inappropriate smirk she wore. But what warmed me the most was when he moved the framed picture out of her reach and said, “She’s someone I care a lot about, and that’s all you need to know.” His confession would’ve caused my blood to run cold, thinking of him with someone, but for some reason, his eyes met mine, calming me before I could get upset. Yet it did cause me to question my initial reaction. As if I had some claim to him. The thought of him with someone else made knots form in my stomach and my head spin. That one glance made no sense to me, and I pondered it for the rest of the day and most of Saturday morning. We’d had a heartfelt conversation on Thursday, but after that, our verbal exchanges had become nothing more than any teacher would engage in with one of their students. A part of me wondered if the connection I’d felt had only been one-sided, but then he’d catch my eye. He’d look at me, pierce me with an intense gaze as if silently telling me something, and then I’d find myself believing there was more between us. Crazy, right? He was my teacher. I was his student. His underage student. And he was seven years older than me. It had to have all been in my head. Nothing more than a naïve girl seeing what she wanted to believe when an attractive, older man gave her attention. I was smart enough to see the truth. Those were the thoughts that consumed me, took over my dreams Friday night, and ate away at me until I finally forced myself to snap out of it. Saturday afternoon, I decided to head up to the library. Mom had been quiet ever since her explosion on Wednesday night after coming home from work and yelling at me for the questions she had to field off. The questions caused by Mr. Taylor’s intrusion. My mother

didn’t like when anyone involved themselves in our lives. I didn’t know how to take her silence, so I eased into a conversation with her. I told her I wanted to check out some books, knowing she wouldn’t have a problem with me leaving the house. The weekends were always the hardest at home when we were both trapped inside together for endless hours. Just as I’d hoped, she allowed me to go, and then agreed to pick me up at six when the library closed. That gave me almost three hours to wander around and enjoy some peace and quiet sans the awkwardness of being in the proximity of my mother. It was heaven, so naturally, the time went by too fast. I chose to wait outside the library doors on a bench to be picked up, foreseeing how it would end if she had to wait for me. What I hadn’t expected, though, was to have company. “What are you reading?” A deep voice overhead startled me until I pulled my nose from the book in my hand and peered over the tops of the pages. Stunned at who stood in front of me, I couldn’t speak or move. I could only watch as he took the empty space on the bench next to me. “What are you doing here?” I asked, nearly breathless from the shock of him being so close to me, his subtle cologne consuming me. “It’s a library, Bree.” His small laugh was enough to calm me to the point where I could finally take him in. I had seen him for five straight days, all of which he’d worn dress pants with shiny black shoes and a nice button-up shirt adorned with a tie. So seeing Mr. Taylor dressed in dark-washed jeans and a sweater was odd. Not odd. Nice. He looked really, really nice, and I had to fight the urge to gawk at him. I closed the book in my hand and shrugged, wanting him to at least think I was at ease around him, even though that was the complete opposite of how I felt. My insides were shaking, and it had nothing to do with the cooling temperatures. His gaze dropped from mine to my hands before reaching out and taking the book from me. “Animal Farm. This is one of my favorite books. Have you read this before? Or are you getting it for school?” Embarrassment filled me as I searched for the answer that wouldn’t make me sound anything like the teenager I was. “I’ve read it before. I really liked it and wanted to read it again with fresh eyes. Sometimes, when I have to read something for class, the essence of the story is lost on me. And reading it for fun allows me to see it differently…like with a different perspective, I guess.” He tilted his head as he stared at me, his eyes locked with mine, his mouth remaining closed. Finally, he shook his head and looked away. “Are you sure you’re a high school student?” He pulled his attention back to me with squinted eyes and a furrowed brow. “Why?” “Because I never remember sixteen-year-olds talking like you when I was in school. They were always worried too much about their appearance and who they dated instead of reading books for fun to get a different outlook on them.” “Seventeen,” I corrected. “I’ll be seventeen in a month.” “You think that makes a difference?” All the wind in my sails deflated, leaving me insecure all over again. “I guess not.” My shoulders dropped and my head fell forward. No matter how much I wanted to hide my reaction, it seemed impossible to keep my body from betraying me.

He shifted on the bench to face me, squaring his shoulders in my direction. “I only meant that even at seventeen, kids don’t think like you. They didn’t when I was your age, and since I started teaching, I haven’t noticed any. Why aren’t you challenging yourself more? Why aren’t you in better classes? Honors classes are good and all, but you could be doing so much more.” “I don’t have the time.” “What do you mean? What time do you need for accelerated classes?” “My mom has these…expectations of me at home, and if I took more than I am right now, I would fall behind. I’m only taking these honors courses because I needed the weighted GPA. My mom expects nothing less than a solid four, so I figured the added weight would help me get there.” “What kinds of ‘expectations’ does your mom have of you?” “Normal house stuff. Cooking, cleaning, laundry.” “You do it all?” I nodded, fearing where this conversation was headed. “So you never get to do anything normal?” “I’m at the library, aren’t I?” He shook his head and peered out at the parking lot. His lips scrunched up as if he’d tasted something sour. His obvious disgust at what I’d told him was written all over his face. “You’re going to college, right? You plan on getting out?” “Of course. She doesn’t want me there any longer than I have to be.” “That makes no sense. I mean, if she has you doing all her work, pretty much taking care of her, why would she want you gone? Don’t get me wrong—I want you out of there, and I hate the thought of you having to wait another year, but your mom doesn’t make much sense.” I shrugged, contemplating my next words. “I’ve already told you, she hates me. She resents me. She makes me do everything because she can, not because I’m her built-in maid. I make her look bad. Because of me, she’s been labeled the single mom. When I leave, she can pretend I don’t exist—until it benefits her to have a smart kid in some fancy school. And then she can have that perfect image again.” I licked my lips and whispered my next words. “She wants her cake and eat it, too. Just as long as I’m not there when she has it.” He turned his head away, his voice matching mine when he murmured, “I hate that I can’t protect you from her.” Then he smacked my book against his leg and handed it to me. “Did you know that Orwell didn’t disagree with socialistic ideas? His entire point of Animal Farm was to show the corruption of those in power.” “Yeah,” I said with a nod, studying the book in my hands. “I like how he was able to tell about the Russian Revolution in a way anyone could understand. Sometimes, it’s hard to explain history to people, because we’ve never experienced those things, or we have a hard time wrapping our minds around certain events. But he did a really good job putting it into perspective for even younger minds to understand.” “I really think you should consider doing dual enrollment next year.” His sentiment warmed me, but I shook my head. “I would have to take public transportation to the community college. And that would only cause more problems if I missed a bus or something.” “Why would you have to do that?” he asked in disbelief.

“I don’t have a car. Mom never bought one for me, and I don’t have any money to get one. She won’t let me work to finance one, and at this point, it’s kind of pointless. I mean, once I leave for college, I will be staying on campus, so I wouldn’t need a car. It sucks right now, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” “Well, I think that’s a ridiculous reason to not take college courses next year. You definitely seem smart enough to do it. And it would even help your credits once you start college full time. You could start ahead of others your age. I really do think you should consider it—maybe find a ride or, at the very least, take a chance on the buses.” No one had ever expressed their belief in me this way before. My mother often pushed for more, but not once did she ever do it because she thought I was worth it—or at least she’d never told me so. It was always to get into better schools, probably so she could take the credit of having such a smart child. But Mr. Taylor…he genuinely seemed to believe in me, and he wanted a better future for me. “I–I’ll think about it.” I’d hoped to control the emotions in my voice, but I got a catch in my throat, making me sound hoarse. He scanned the parking lot before turning back to me. “The library is about to close…how are you getting home? Do you need a ride?” “No, but thank you. My mom is picking me up. She should be here soon. And if she sees you sitting with me, it probably won’t look too good.” “I’m not leaving you here alone,” he said with narrowed eyes. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Taylor, but I’ll be okay. I’m serious, though. If she pulls up and I’m sitting next to you, talking to you, I’ll never hear the end of it. She’ll think I snuck off to meet you, and I wouldn’t put it past her to accuse us of screwing around together inside.” “She would really do that?” I tilted my head at him and raised my eyebrows. “She often makes comments about me doing things behind her back. As if I have the time to fuck random guys. She says things like, ‘Getting pregnant in high school will ruin your chances of getting into college.’ Or, ‘Take it from me, there’s nothing worse than having a baby before you’re ready—it’ll ruin your life, just like you ruined mine.’ She’s never seen me with anyone, so I have no idea why she thinks these things. But if she sees you here, I’m sure it’ll give her more ammunition to assume I’ll get knocked up before graduation and ruin her image even more.” “Okay. Then I’ll wait in my car and watch to make sure she comes.” “Really, you don’t have to do that.” “I know, but I want to. I want to make sure you’re safe. I’m not leaving you here alone.” I nodded, knowing he wouldn’t give up. After flashing me a quick smile, he stood and headed out to the parking lot. A car pulled alongside the sidewalk and someone ran from the building to the passenger side door. I glanced over, searching in the direction Mr. Taylor had headed, and I realized I needed to use this opportunity to my advantage. I couldn’t risk him being there when my mom came, not trusting that he wouldn’t say anything to her. So as the car door closed, I ran to hide behind a pillar near the front of the building. The car drove off, and a minute later, a red Jeep slowed by the curb. It appeared to be the same one I’d seen Mr. Taylor driving a few times when he’d arrived at or left school. I crouched down, hiding behind the brick pillar until he pulled away. I waited, making sure he was gone before slinking back to the bench to wait for my mom.

Five minutes came and went, and then the library closed down. Someone exited, locked the doors, took one look at me, and then left without a word. Another five minutes alone without my mom coming. Then ten minutes. It quickly turned into half an hour. The library had closed at six, and by seven, I gave up hope that she’d come. I hadn’t thought to bring any change with me for the bus, so that left me with the only option of walking home. I lived just a few miles away, and had walked it before, but never at this time of day. The sun had long since left the sky, and the temperature had dropped dramatically. It didn’t take long before I regretted hiding from Mr. Taylor. I wrapped my jacket around my body tighter and shoved the book into one of the pockets, bundling up as best as I could to protect myself from the cold. But no matter how tight I crossed my arms over my chest, or how deep I buried my hands into my pockets, nothing kept the chill in the air from seeping into my skin. My teeth chattered violently with every step. I only had about a half a mile to go when it started to rain. It sprinkled to begin with, but not long after the first drop landed, the sky opened up, pelting me with ice-cold drops that felt like glass slicing at my face. It didn’t take long before I became completely soaked and numb. My fingertips tingled, my toes burned from the cold, and my insides convulsed with the shivers that racked my body. Everything hurt. The weather made my hour-and-a-half walk turn into two hours, yet it seemed more like four. By the time I made it to my front door, I was exhausted and I could swear I was on the verge of freezing to death. I didn’t think anything could get worse…but it did. Things got a lot worse.

By Sunday night, I’d found myself praying for death just to ease the pain and suffering. Come Monday morning, I was miserable. The shakes and shivers hadn’t left me all weekend, and they eventually took over my whole body, leaving me in a constant freezing state. I couldn’t get warm no matter how many layers of clothing I wore, or how many blankets I bundled on top of me when I slept. I couldn’t breathe out of my nose, and my raw throat made it impossible to swallow. But when my alarm sounded early Monday morning for school, I knew I had to get up. I couldn’t miss any classes. I wore a knitted undershirt beneath a long-sleeved sweater, and then topped it off with a pullover hoodie. I even kept on my knitted long johns I’d slept in beneath my jeans and added an extra pair of socks to my feet. I also made sure to bring an entire box of tissues with me in my backpack, knowing I’d need them throughout the day. “Morning, Bree,” Mr. Taylor said as soon as I made it to my seat. He took one look at me before I could respond, and frowned. “You sick?” “I’ll be okay. Just a cold.” I sounded nasally from the heavy amount of blockage in my sinus cavities. “I blame it on the weather.” “Yeah, this cold front has been pretty awful. Why didn’t you stay home today?” he asked with concern, his head tilted as his eyes glazed over with sympathy. I shrugged and pulled my notebook out of my backpack. “I’ll survive. It would take a lot more than a cold to keep me down.” I injected as much nonchalance into my voice as I could muster, hoping to give

him the impression that I was a lot stronger than I felt. He nodded at me, but his eyes said something else. They focused on mine with a furrowed brow, studying me as if he could see inside my head and know how sick I truly was. Mr. Taylor had a way of reading me, and as he analyzed me with his steady eyes, I’d hoped he wouldn’t be able to see what I’d been trying to hide from him. I didn’t want him to ask me any questions, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to answer them with enough conviction to make him leave me alone. Thankfully, he didn’t say or ask anything else. Class began and he moved to the podium up front, preparing to teach the day’s lesson. Everyone settled into their seats and opened their books, ready to learn, but then Mr. Taylor switched things up. I could tell by his expression that it was an unprepared and last-minute decision. He glanced over at me and squinted his eyes before scanning the rest of the class. “We are going to have a test on Friday, so I’ve decided to let you all use this time to review what we’ve already learned from last week. You can discuss things amongst yourselves, as long as it’s quiet and you stay on topic. No talking about what you did this weekend. If you can’t do this, I won’t offer this option again. So use this time to your advantage—share notes, read the chapter, do whatever you have to do to study. Whatever you do, don’t make me regret it.” He then moved away from his podium and walked back to his desk, keeping his focus on me the entire time. Everyone silently looked around, wondering what’d just happened. There were notes on the chalkboard for the new chapter, yet we wouldn’t get into those today. It seemed odd that our teacher would randomly give us the class off, but no one complained. They all seemed excited to be given free time, yet I wasn’t. Sure, I didn’t feel good, and the thought of a timeout from schoolwork seemed like a good idea, but there was something in the way he looked at me that made me wonder about his motive. Once Mr. Taylor sat in his seat, he began to write something down on a piece of paper. I turned away, not wanting to give him a reason to say something to me. Then he slid the paper across his desk. I glanced up, wondering what he’d passed to me, and noticed the handwritten note. I scanned the room quickly, hoping no one had paid any attention to this exchange. Yet everyone seemed to be in their own worlds. Rebecca and Jill were shoulder to shoulder, carrying on some conversation about Ricky, the school’s quarterback. Andy, the kid that sat next to me, had his head down and eyes closed, as if this was nap time instead of study time. I turned my attention back to Mr. Taylor, wondering if he had any intention of disciplining the other students for not following directions, but his eyes were laser-focused on me. He nudged the paper a little more in my direction until I grabbed it to read it. You really don’t seem okay. Do you have a fever? Without taking my eyes off his words, I snatched up my pen to respond. I have no idea. But I’ll be okay. I have to study. I pushed the note back to him, glancing around to make sure no one saw. My heart hammered viciously inside my chest at the mere thought of getting caught passing notes back and forth with the teacher, but Mr. Taylor seemed unfazed by it as he shoved the paper in my direction. I’m sure someone might question me if I felt your forehead, but it looks to me like you’re running a fever. I really don’t think you should be here today. You should be at home

resting. Put your head down. I’ll wake you up before the bell. I’m sure your teacher won’t mind. My eyes snapped to his, wondering if this was some kind of joke. I knew without looking into a mirror that I had a worried expression on my face. I could feel it in my forehead, but Mr. Taylor wore an easy grin and his eyes sparkled with humor. Really? Were we friends now or something? I shook my head and folded the piece of paper, making the decision to end the childish notes between us. I wouldn’t take a nap, even though he said it’d be okay. He’d given us the time to study, and that’s exactly what I’d do. But as the day drew on, I began to regret that decision. My head grew fuzzier and my skin burned hotter and hotter with each passing class. By the time lunch came around, my eyes watered and felt as if they were on fire, and before the last period of the day, all I wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up. My feet dragged against the carpeted hallway as I made my way to my locker. I pressed my forehead to the metal, garnering some strength to turn the dial. The locker door pressed cold against my skin, but it didn’t take long before the chill disappeared and heat radiated off it, consuming the space around my head. All I wanted to do was cry in defeat, completely worn out from the long and exhausting day. I must’ve been sicker than I thought, because time seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Once I finished with my locker and made my way to the bus line, I watched as the last of the yellow buses pulled out onto the main road in front of the school. Shit! I’d missed my bus in my attempt to pull myself together long enough to make it out of the building. But I hadn’t been fast enough. I knew I’d have to call my mother to pick me up. The last time I’d missed the bus, she told me to find my own way home—which meant to walk. Fearing her response would be the same this time, I collapsed to a bench in defeat. I just needed a moment to garner the courage to trek down to the office to use the phone and call her to pick me up. I hoped and prayed she wouldn’t make me walk —knew I didn’t have the strength for that. Hell, I’d barely had enough energy to walk from my locker to the bus line. “What’s with me finding you on benches?” I raised my head, seeing Mr. Taylor standing in front of me. My eyes stung from the heat radiating off my face, and it made his appearance blurry, but it was no doubt him. “Did you miss the bus?” he asked, and all I could do was nod once in response—even that caused the pounding in my head to increase. “Is your mother coming to get you?” I shrugged as the first tear fell. I wanted to believe it was because my eyes stung from the heat, and that’s what eyes do when they burn—they tear up. But I knew better than that. I’d started to cry because I’d become consumed with defeat. “I haven’t called her yet.” I dropped my head into my hands, hoping to hide my tears from him. “This may sound like a stupid question, but will she come pick you up if you call her?” I wanted to lie to him. My brain begged and screamed at me to say yes, but the hopelessness and despair that filled me wouldn’t allow me to do that. I shook my head as more tears flooded my eyes before slipping to the concrete at my feet. My shoulders trembled as I finally gave in, completely surrendering to the misery I’d fought all day long.

“Stay right here. I’ll pull around and give you a ride home.” “You don’t need to do that,” I said without lifting my head. He took one step and then stopped, his shiny black shoes directly in my line of sight. When he spoke, I heard his soft words dangerously close to my ear. “Stay here, Bree. I’ll be back in a minute to take you home.” Normally, I would’ve been concerned with someone catching me in my teacher’s car. I’m sure that wouldn’t look good to anyone. But at that moment, I was too desperate, too tired to argue or care. I needed a ride, and he’d offered. Anyone that wanted to say something about it could go to hell.

“DOES YOUR MOM KNOW YOU’RE sick?” Mr. Taylor asked once we pulled away from the school. He even turned the heat up for me, which helped to warm my freezing body but did little for the already blazing fire that had taken over my cheeks. “Yeah, she knows. I started to get sick yesterday.” “And she still wouldn’t come get you?” I turned in my seat to face him, not surprised at all to find his gaze on me, only flitting away briefly back to the road. “I don’t know why you’re still so surprised at these things. You were so convinced last week that she abuses me, yet now you question why she wouldn’t pick me up from school if I miss the bus.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head before returning his full attention to his driving. “I know. I guess it still baffles me how parents can do this to their kids. I mean, it’s clear as day you’re sick, and not just with a cold. Like, you’re really sick. But she picked you up from the library, so I guess it’s not that out of the question that she’d pick you up from school, too.” I leaned against the door, completely drained of energy, and rested my head against the window. “She didn’t pick me up. I walked home.” “What do you mean? When?” “From the library. She never came. I waited for an hour, but she never showed up. So I hiked my own ass home.” I didn’t even bother to look his way. I didn’t care to see whatever expression he wore on his face. “That can’t be true. You weren’t there once I got in my car, and I even drove by the front of the building. I think I would’ve seen you.” I pointed with my finger so he’d know where to go, but I kept my words to the conversation at hand. “You’re right. She came. I’m a liar. You drove by the front and didn’t see me because she picked me up in the two minutes it took you to stroll to your car. I wasn’t hiding behind the pillar by the door. And I didn’t trudge home, either. I also didn’t get soaked in the rain. Oh, and while I’m telling the truth…I slept in my bed Saturday night, not on my back porch. I slept under my blanket, all nice and dry, not in my wet jacket. I got sick because it’s January and cold, not because I slept outside after fighting my way home in the freezing rain.” I released a dramatic exhale. “Wow, I feel so much better now that I’ve told the truth.” Fury-filled sarcasm coated every word as tears raced down my face. It was a frustrating mix of emotions. The Jeep slowed to a stop, but we weren’t at a red light or a stop sign. I turned my head to see why we weren’t moving and caught his questioning gaze. His brow had a heavy, deep crease in the middle, and

his nostrils flared. His breathing had caused his chest to rapidly rise before quickly deflating. It was an expression I’d never seen on him before. Was he angry with me? “What are we doing, Mr. Taylor?” I asked in a meek voice. “You slept outside? Why would you do that?” I instantly regretted ever opening my mouth to begin with. I’d done it out of anger, furious with him for dismissing me so easily. Yet now, with the heated intensity radiating from his rigid body, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut and allowed him to assume I’d lied about it. I had no strength left to lie or tell the truth. Tears came easily, and ran in tracks down to my chin, effortlessly falling to my lap. I didn’t even have to try to cry. It was as if my body needed to purge itself of the grief and wouldn’t let me stop it. “Aubrey…” “She wouldn’t let me inside, okay? Are you happy? I didn’t have my keys with me because she was supposed to pick me up, so I couldn’t get inside. All the doors were locked. She wouldn’t even come to the door.” I had no idea how much of that he could understand over my sobs. But I assumed it was enough to get the picture. “Why would she do that?” He didn’t sound baffled, more angry than anything, like he was appalled at my mother’s actions. “It was raining all night and the temperatures had dropped into the thirties. What human being does that? I wouldn’t even leave my dog outside in weather that cold. No wonder you’re so sick.” A horn blaring behind us snapped his attention back to the present. We hadn’t moved from the spot in the middle of the road. He lifted his foot off the brake and started to follow my silent directions again. “My mind was elsewhere that morning. I had gotten a glass of ice water and a few cubes fell from the dispenser. I thought I picked them all up, but I guess I didn’t. The ice melted and apparently she slipped on the puddle while I was gone. It pissed her off. She got back at me by not picking me up. She swears she thought I had my key and would’ve let myself inside, but I don’t know how she wouldn’t have known that I wasn’t sleeping across the hall from her. She says she had no idea.” “Why didn’t you call me? I gave you my number for that exact reason.” “I didn’t have it with me. I don’t carry around that sticky note everywhere I go.” I pointed to the right, instructing him to turn down my street. “Why didn’t you program it into your phone?” I sat up and pointed once more, this time, to my house. He pulled into the driveway and I unfastened my seatbelt, finding any excuse to stall my answer. “I don’t have a phone,” I said, mortified. Everyone had a cell phone but me. “You don’t have a cell phone?” His eyebrows practically reached his hairline. “No. My mom says if I want one, I’d have to pay for it. And for the same reason I don’t have a car, I don’t have a phone. I can’t afford it considering I can’t have a job. She makes me pay for things when I have no way of doing so. It’s one more way of sticking it to me.” “Doesn’t your dad pay child support?” I leaned back into the seat, resting my head on the support behind me. I had zero energy left, yet he continued to question me. Couldn’t he tell when enough was enough? Defeated, I answered, “Yes, he does. Yet that gets paid to my mom, and she says it’s for food, electricity, and water. I get clothes and shoes when I need them. A phone isn’t a necessity.” I’d heard her say that so many times, that it no longer angered me to repeat it.

Without a word, he exited from the Jeep. I silently followed him with my eyes as he made his way around the front to my side, opening it for me. It took me a second before stepping out, wondering why he’d done this. And then I stood still, watching as he walked to my front door. “What are you doing?” I asked from where I stood next to his vehicle. “You need someone to take care of you, Aubrey.” I slowly dragged myself to him, never taking my eyes off his. “You don’t need to do this, Mr. Taylor. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it long enough.” “This may be true, but you’re sick. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Please don’t question me— and unlock your door. Now.” He spoke with so much authority, I couldn’t argue with him even if I had the energy to do so. I couldn’t fight him, because I knew he’d win. I didn’t stand a chance. Nerves took hold of me once he was inside my house with the door closed behind him. I’d never had anyone over before, especially a guy, and more importantly, a teacher. My mind became flooded with fears and worries, causing me to freeze in the middle of the room with him at my back. His warm hands held my shoulders as he led me to the couch against the wall in front of me. “Just lay down. Tell me where I can find a blanket, and I’ll get you all set up before I leave. I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable than you already are. I only want to make sure you’re okay before I leave. Something I should’ve done Saturday night.” “I’m okay. You don’t have to do this. I’m in the house. I’m safe.” “Why did you hide from me? Why did you make me think you’d been picked up when you hadn’t been?” My bottom lip trembled and my shoulders sagged. “I didn’t want to chance you stopping my mom and talking to her. I know how you feel about her, and I didn’t want you to say anything.” He spun me around by his soft grip on my shoulders until I collapsed into his chest. I covered my face with my hands, crying into his warmth as his arms circled me, holding me there. “Mr. Taylor…” “Axel. Please, call me Axel when you’re not in my class.” I shook my head and pulled away from him. “I can’t do that. You’re my teacher. You shouldn’t even be here—in my home. This is wrong. You could get in trouble, and it would all be my fault.” My words flew out of my mouth, slurred from my tears and the effects of fever fogging up my brain. “You need a friend, Aubrey. You need someone you can count on. Yes, I’m your teacher, and yes, I could get in trouble for being here. But you need me, and I won’t turn my back on you. My hands are tied here. I can’t do anything else to protect you other than just being here for you. I refuse to let you suffer alone.” I shook my head and furiously swiped at the falling tears on my face. “Just relax on the couch, please. And tell me where I can find a blanket.” “I can’t. I have to make dinner.” “You’re sick.” “She doesn’t care. I have to make dinner.” Mr. Taylor—Axel—stood back with his hands on his hips and stared off into the kitchen before turning his attention back to me. “What time does your mom come home?” “Between five thirty and six.”

He glanced at his watch and sighed. “Okay. We have about two hours before she’ll be here. You rest while I make dinner. What does she like?” “I can’t have you making dinner.” “Stop, Aubrey,” he said, his voice stern, leaving no room for questioning. His hand came to rest on my forehead before falling and cupping my cheek. “You’re burning up. You need to rest. This isn’t up for debate. Now…what does your mom like to eat?” I stumbled backward, only stopping when the backs of my knees hit the couch cushion. I fell into it and slid down until my head rested on the armrest. “The blankets are in the closet in the hall over there.” I pointed to the small alcove between the living room and the kitchen. “And there’s chicken breasts in the fridge. I was going to make chicken noodle soup tonight.” He smiled brightly before walking to the closet. “Good, because I make some amazing soup.” A second later, a soft blanket draped over my cold body, and then he tucked it in around me. I’d never felt so cared for in all my life. Sleep must’ve taken over, because the next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find him kneeling in front of me, and the most amazing smell wafted through the room. He had a plastic bag in his hand as he studied me carefully. “What—what’s going on?” I asked groggily. “The soup is on the stove. It should stay warm until your mom gets home. She should be here in the next hour. I went and picked you up some medicine. I didn’t know if you had any or not, and didn’t want to go snooping around to check. So I just picked some up. Take the nighttime stuff tonight so you can sleep. And for God’s sake, stay home tomorrow. Don’t come to school. You need to rest in order to get better.” I slowly started to sit up, but his hand on my arm kept me from doing so. “Rest, Aubrey. Please, stop fighting me on this.” I conceded with a nod and relaxed back into the couch. “If your fever hasn’t gone away by tomorrow, you should go to the doctor’s office. If you need me to take you, let me know. And if you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll have my phone on me all day tomorrow, just in case.” My eyes burned with unshed tears. I didn’t know if it was from exhaustion, being sick, or the fact that this man had shown me more compassion than I’d ever had in my life. Whatever it was, I couldn’t hold back the emotions that had come over me. He moved his hand from my arm to my face, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll be okay, Bree.” “Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” A smile formed on his face as he slowly shook his head. “I told you to call me Axel. It sounds really weird being called Mr. Taylor. That’s my dad. I’d have all my students call me by my first name if I could, but I can’t. The least you can do is spare me outside of school.” “Okay, Axel,” I said with a grin, testing his name on my lips. It sounded good. Would’ve been better had my voice not been so rough with sleep and a scratchy throat, but I still liked it. He seemed to like it, too—the sparkle in his eyes gave him away. After another swipe of his thumb across my cheekbone, he stood, leaving the bag next to the couch, and left. I closed my eyes, wanting to savor the warmth of his touch on my face as sleep took me once

more. I didn’t open my eyes again until my mom woke me up to clean the dishes. I only had one pot and one bowl to wash, but it seemed to take forever. It also didn’t help that I fixed my own small bowl of soup, needing something in my stomach before I took the medicine he’d left behind. It was killer chicken noodle. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he could make amazing soup. Once the last dish had been washed, dried, and put away, I dragged myself upstairs to bed. I didn’t even bother taking a shower, knowing I didn’t have the energy for it. I took the nighttime medicine Axel had gotten me, and curled up under the warm covers, falling to sleep with my teacher on my mind.

I listened to Axel and stayed home from school the next day. Even if I’d wanted to go in, I would have never been able to. My alarm sounded, causing my pounding head to explode. I quickly turned it off, rolled over, and fell back asleep, not waking up again until almost noon with soaked sheets and clothes. I still wore the outfit I’d had on from school the day before—the hoodie included. I peeled off every layer, the air in my room frigid on my damp skin. Even though I’d sweated through all my clothes and bedding, I still felt cold, so I put on dry clothes before stripping my bed. Luckily, I had enough energy to do the laundry, throwing my sheets in with it. I ate a bowl of soup, settled into the couch with the blanket Axel had gotten for me the day before, and watched some TV between naps. The doorbell sounded, waking me up sometime in the afternoon. I sat up, no longer as sick as I had been yesterday, and shuffled to the door with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders. My cheeks ached from the smile that formed at the sight of the man that had overtaken my dreams throughout the last day. “What are you doing here?” I asked, unable to hide my excitement. Embarrassment would’ve consumed me had his expression not matched my own. “I just wanted to check up on you. I was very happy to see you weren’t in class this morning, and I was hoping you were feeling better. And if you weren’t, I was going to take you to the walk-in down the street.” “I’m feeling better.” He lifted his hand to my face and pressed his warm palm to my forehead. “Your fever seems to be gone. That’s a good sign. Have you been taking your medicine?” “Yes. I took it last night and again this morning. But I haven’t had any in a few hours. I’ve just been sleeping and watching TV. Is school already over?” I had no idea of the time, so I glanced down at my watch, surprised to see how late it was. I moved out of the doorway, testing his reaction. But then he took a step forward into my house. I detected the faint scent of his manly cologne. My breath caught in my chest, and I suddenly experienced claustrophobia for the first time in my life. “You look a little better. Your wolf eyes are brighter.” I glared at him, confused by his description of my eyes. “Wolf eyes? What does that mean?” With a slight chuckle, he said, “I don’t know, they remind me of wolves.” “Oh yeah? They remind me of grass.” I wanted the subject to drop, growing slightly self-conscious. His finger lifted and lightly grazed my cheekbone, just to the side of my eye. “They’re so light and bright. Sometimes, they look yellow. Like they belong on a wild animal or something. You come across as a timid, domesticated house pet, but your eyes say something else. They were the first things I noticed

about you. Hard to not get lost in them. Wolf eyes.” I smacked his hand away and laughed at his awkward compliment. If that’s even what it was meant to be. “So you just came by to see how I was feeling?” “And to bring you the work you missed in class today.” “Isn’t this considered special treatment?” His head dropped and rolled side to side, but it didn’t cover the boyish grin on his face. “Probably. But is this any different than if I tutored a student after class?” His teasing attitude softened my anxiety until a bubble of excitement grew within me. My lips turned up at the corners, probably matching his own flirtatious expression, as I said, “It depends, Mr. Taylor. Would you be tutoring this student inside their home without a parent present?” His grin faltered and he took a step back toward the open door as if he’d been smacked in the face with my words. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be here. I just know how much you hate to miss school, and I thought you’d want some notes.” His eyes jumped around the room nervously, and it reminded me of a scared animal. “You’re fine, Mr. Taylor. I was only teasing,” I said, hoping it would calm him down, but it didn’t. “I don’t live far from here, so I stopped here on my way home. I—” “Axel.” I held up my hand and stepped closer to him. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone that you came by. I promise. It was only a joke. I’m sorry.” His shoulders relaxed and it seemed that the nervousness had eased from his body. With a small smirk, he said, “I’m not used to this. I swear. I’ve never gone to a student’s house before. I was just worried. I’ll leave you with the notes from class.” He held out a stack of papers without looking me in the eye, his expression completely falling flat. “I shouldn’t have come.” His words were whispered beneath his breath, as if only to himself. As if he’d just realized where he was. I wrapped the blanket closer to my body, my insecurity taking over again. “I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid,” I said to myself after practically ripping the papers from his hand and turning around. “Why do you say that?” I couldn’t face him, so I kept my back to him while returning to the spot on the couch I’d vacated to answer the door. “You seemed like you were teasing, so I joked, too. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I know you didn’t come here for any other reason than being concerned about a student. It was stupid of me to let my guard down.” After I sat down, I heard the distant click of the door closing, barring out the cold draft. I kept my eyes on the papers in front of me, and I could see his shadow growing closer. I didn’t need to hear the door shutting or watch him with my eyes to know he’d left his spot in the foyer and found his way to me. But even had I not sensed it, I would’ve known when he dropped to his knees, pulling my attention to his face, which was only a foot away from my own. “This is new for both of us,” he started once he knew he had my attention. “I have no idea how to care for a student that’s going through the kinds of things you are. And I’m sure you’re not used to having a teacher care so much. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and if I ever do, I need you to tell me.” “You don’t make me uncomfortable. That’s just it…I feel more relaxed with you than I ever have with anyone else. I just don’t know how to handle that.” It was the truth. Yes, at times I didn’t know how to deal with his attention, and sometimes I found myself dreaming about him in ways a student should never dream about their teacher, but that didn’t take away how he made me feel around him. He had the ability

to piss me off, and then calm me down in no time. I could be scared, yet one look into his bright-blue eyes lined with long, dark lashes, and an unfamiliar calmness would spread through me like the wind. It was simply unexplainable. And that is what left me uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to handle that. “If you’d like, I can go over these notes with you. We’ve got a little time before your mom should be home.” For the first time, he didn’t seem like an adult. He didn’t act like a teacher. To me, he came across more as a friend, someone my age. And it was a good look on him. I agreed and let him teach me the day’s lesson. He leaned against the other couch across the room, leaving practically the entire living room between us. I took notes as he covered what had been discussed in class, and then answered the practice questions he’d given the other students. It really was no different than him tutoring another student after school. Only…he was in my living room. And I wore pajamas with a blanket around me. “Oh, I did have one other purpose for stopping by,” he said, and pivoted toward me on his way out the door. “But before I give this to you, let me explain it first. This is for emergencies. I, obviously, would like you to use it when you need to get ahold of me, but in the event of a real emergency, please use it to call the authorities.” Confusion didn’t even begin to describe my mood before he pulled a cell phone from his pocket, handing it to me. “A phone? You got me a phone? I can’t afford this. I’ve already told you. I don’ have—” “It’s prepaid,” he said, his words cutting me off mid-sentence. “It’s just a flip-phone with a basic plan. It has unlimited text messaging, and five hundred minutes a month. I would have gotten less minutes, but figured you might have times when you just need to talk to someone, and I didn’t want you to run out. But if we need to adjust the plan, it’s really easy. It’s just month to month.” “Mr. Taylor…” “Axel. I’ve already told you.” I rolled my eyes, hoping that would ease some of the worry that had consumed my nerves. “I can’t accept a phone from you. I can’t pay for this. Not to mention, I don’t even have any friends to call.” I tried handing it back to him, but he wouldn’t take it. “We’re friends, right? Call me if you need to. It has me worried just thinking about you sleeping on your porch in thirty-degree weather because you couldn’t call anyone.” “It was a one-time thing. It’s never happened before, and probably will never happen again. I’ll be fine.” “Okay…” He held a finger up in front of me, making me pause my thoughts for his argument. “Then use it the next time you don’t have a ride somewhere. The next time you miss the bus, before or after school. The next time you’re out somewhere and the weather is too bad to walk in it. It doesn’t matter what you need it for, there will be a time that you will. And I would feel much better knowing you had a way to get in touch with me.” I nodded, contemplating a rebuttal. “If my mom finds it…” “Don’t let her find it.” I finally met his eyes. It was the first time since after he walked in that I’d wanted to tease him. “You want me to hide something from my mother? Doesn’t that go against some kind of teacher oath or something?”

“No.” The small curve of his lips said so much. “I would never tell you to do something like that. All I meant was to keep it safe. But whatever you do, don’t tell her about it.” He winked and then turned to open the door. I kept my mouth shut, even though I wanted to say more. I wanted to keep him there, keep him joking with me. I didn’t want him to leave, but I knew he needed to. The hardest part was having to remind myself that he was my teacher, that he was seven years older than me, and these butterflies had no business taking root in the pit of my stomach. “See you tomorrow, Bree.” His smooth, deep voice enveloped me through the open door. “See you then, Axel,” I replied, wanting to keep the silly grin off my face but knowing immediately that I’d failed. My cheeks ached from the strained muscles, so I gave in and let the smile widen. An airy laugh escaped him before he left. He shook his head all the way to his Jeep. I wanted more than anything to know what that had meant. Because I didn’t trust my own imagination to figure it out. I couldn’t allow myself to fill in the blanks and come to my own conclusion. I had to remind myself that I was nothing more than a child in his eyes. A poor, defenseless child that he had to protect from her big, bad mom. A student in desperate need of a caring adult. And that’s all he was—a caring adult. I rolled my eyes and headed back to the couch, studying the phone in my hands. His number was the only one programmed into the contacts, and I must’ve stared at his name for a while, because the next thing I knew, my mom had come home. “You didn’t go to school today?” she questioned from the kitchen. I glanced up to her, shoving the phone beneath the blanket. “No. I didn’t feel well. I stayed home and slept all day. I just woke up a couple of hours ago.” I feared what would come next. Each of her steps taunted me with the promise of a lecture. But that’s not what I got. Instead, she came to me, knelt in front of the couch, and pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You are a little warm, but not bad. Have you taken anything?” Nodding was all I could do to answer. She’d stunned me too much for my mouth to work properly. Her eyes dropped to my lap as she let out a long breath. “Aubrey,” she started, which worried me since she hardly ever used my full name. “I had no idea how sick you were. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I wished I’d had a mirror so that I could see my reflection. I’m sure my face registered shock and surprise at her words. My eyes opened wide and my mouth fell open as air refused to enter my lungs. “Aubrey, we need to talk.” A jolt of hysteria overcame me. Did she know Mr. Taylor had been here? Did she see the phone in my hand before I covered it up? Did she get a call from the school? So many paranoid fears flooded my mind and kept me unable to respond to her. Knowing her, if she even thought I’d befriended a teacher from school, she’d have him fired before morning. And I couldn’t lose him. He was my only friend. He was the only person who ever cared about me. I couldn’t lose him so soon.

“THE OTHER NIGHT…” SHE SEEMED so nervous to talk to me, which was completely out of character for her. I’d never seen her even hesitate when speaking to me, so this had me quiet and still, waiting for the familiar sting of her words. “I was mad and made the decision to let you walk home. I honestly had no idea it had started to rain until way later. And I swear to you, I thought you had come inside. I saw your keys on the counter when I came down from my shower, and figured you’d gone upstairs. And since I was mad, I didn’t want to go up and check on you, because I knew it would only cause me to yell.” “I don’t get it, Mom. I rang the doorbell and pounded on the door for a long time. At least five straight minutes. How did you not hear that?” Tears stung my eyes, remembering that night so clearly, and unable to believe a word she said. “That must’ve been while I was in the shower. I’ve done some awful things to you, things I’m not proud of and don’t want to discuss right now, but I’d never purposely leave you outside in that weather overnight. I’d never do that.” Her voice shook, causing me to focus on her watering eyes. I’d never seen her cry before. I’d heard her after my dad left, but it was always behind a closed door. Watching tears pull at the rims of her eyes before cascading quickly down her rosy cheeks weakened my resolve. It crumbled my hard exterior when it came to her, and it softened my fight. I didn’t want to believe her, but witnessing her guilt over it, I couldn’t help but buy her story. “And then you were quiet and down on Sunday, and I just thought you were pissed about it. I didn’t know what to say by that point. I felt horrible knowing you’d been outside that whole time, but I didn’t know how to express it. I have a hard time showing my feelings around you sometimes.” I shook my head, which caused her to pause her excuse. “You don’t have a hard time showing me your anger. You never hesitate to let me know when I’ve pissed you off or I’m doing something wrong. You never tiptoe around your feelings about my grades or school. The only time you have any difficulty expressing anything is when you do something wrong. When you knock my head against a door and make me look like I’ve gone twelve rounds with Rocky. Or when you leave me alone at a closed library, and make me walk home in the freezing rain. When you make me sleep on a lounge chair in the back yard with nothing to keep me warm. Those are the only times you hesitate to say anything. Is it that hard to admit you’ve done something wrong? Is it that hard to apologize…or at least let me know you feel bad about it?” Tears had streaked my face by that point, and nothing could stop the quivering in my chin. My hands shook in my lap from the adrenaline that sucker-punched my system. I’d never spoken back to my mom before, and had it not felt so good at that moment, I would’ve feared the repercussions. Her throat worked hard as she swallowed, probably feeling every ounce of my anger. All I wanted

her to see was that I was a child—her child—and never deserved anything she’d ever given me. I deserved so much better than being ignored or treated like some household servant. I was the only family she had left, and she made me feel as if she’d rather be alone than to have me there. I wished she could see that. “Is it so hard to be my mom?” My words were nothing but a whispered plea, begging her to show me that she loved me. In that moment, I didn’t feel like a sixteen-year-old. I felt like a small child, hungry for the love and affection from a parent. Some kids act out to gain their parent’s attention. They say bad attention is better than none at all. Some kids seek it from other people or things. Drugs. Alcohol. Parties and sex. But not me. I never once acted out, talked back, did anything bad to be seen. I would’ve rather gone the rest of my life invisible to her than to garner the wrong kind of notice. But Axel had done something to me. He saw me. And it made me feel special. It made me yearn to experience that from the one person that was supposed to give it to me. I didn’t need to daydream about some relationship with a man whose purpose was to prepare me for the future. I didn’t need to spend my time thinking about a guy that smiled at me, imagining what it would be like to be held by him. I didn’t need a stranger to comfort me. I needed that from my mom. That was her job. She was supposed to teach me what love meant. It was her responsibility to lay the groundwork for my future, give me an example of the way it’s supposed to be, show me what I had to look forward to. It was her job to hold me when I was scared, dry my tears, and bring me medicine when I was sick. All these things I’d buried long ago. I’d come to the conclusion when I was very young that I’d never get that…not from her. And when my dad left, I’d accepted that I’d never get that from anyone. Until Axel Taylor came into my life. Until I walked into his classroom. Until he showed me he cared. Now, after all this time, I wanted it from her. I wanted it from my mom. And I would fight to get it if I had to. I would call her out on her bullshit. Her lies. Her inability to take blame or apologize for her mistakes. I couldn’t allow it to carry on the way it was. “Don’t you get tired of this?” I asked, studying her reaction closely. Her eyes dropped, her hands fisted in her lap, and her shoulders pulled back, as if the muscles were taut with some kind of heavy emotion I couldn’t read. I couldn’t read it because I’d never seen it on her before. “Don’t you want to have a relationship with me? I’m your daughter. I’m your only child.” I hiccupped a sob when I said, “Don’t you love me?” The tears had filled my vision so much that I couldn’t see her. She was nothing more than a shadowy figure in front of me. “I just wanted you to know that I never meant to leave you locked outside. It was an accident.” Her voice was all I had to go on since I couldn’t see her, and it was filled with ice. Cold and distant. It lacked the emotion I’d previously witnessed before going blind with salty pain. “It’ll never happen again.” And then the shadow rose from the ground and vanished. I couldn’t even find the strength to wipe my eyes, knowing if I could see her walk away from me, it would be worse than the assumption. I couldn’t handle that, even though it was all I was used to. It reiterated to me that my mother was nothing more than a silhouette. She was the closing curtain on my final act, leaving me alone on the stage of life with my grief and deep-seeded insecurities. Hell, she was my insecurity.

All this started because of one man. Axel Taylor had ruined me.

I laid in bed and stared at my new phone, clutching it tightly in my hand. I’d gone through life alone, and dealt with the rejection my mother handed me on a daily basis all by myself. But, for some reason, I now felt the desire to share this with someone. Not just anyone, but one particular person. Axel. I wanted to talk about it, cry about it, vent to him about how my mom made me feel when she walked away from me. I had become accustomed to bottling up my emotions, not worrying about the way my mom’s rejection affected me. But now, I’ve experienced the amazing feeling of being heard, and I couldn’t go back to closing myself off any longer. It took me close to thirty minutes before flipping the lid open and finding his contact information already programmed in. I opened a blank text message and watched the cursor blink over and over again without typing a single word. Finally, I spelled out one word: awake? And hit send. Then I freaked out as I waited impatiently for him to respond. Within seconds, the phone beeped once, and a response came in. Everything okay? Again, I hesitated on what to say, typing out a word and then deleting it. I worried that I’d sound too juvenile, too immature. I didn’t want to bother him the first night I had the phone, and I certainly didn’t want to come across too eager to talk to him. Doubt began to flood my earlier spontaneity. What if he was busy? What if he was entertaining someone? Or what if I really had woken him? But before I could organize my thoughts enough to reply, the phone started ringing in my hand, making me jump. I answered it before the sound could alert my mom—the last thing I needed was for her to come in and catch me with it. “Hello?” Even though I knew who it was, his name flashing across the small, square screen, I tried to act aloof, as if I had no idea who was on the other end of the line. “Everything okay, Bree?” His voice sounded worried, concerned. “Hi,” I said nervously, not sure what the right thing to say was. “Yes, everything is fine. I thought I wanted to talk, but I think I changed my mind.” He laughed through the line and it immediately set me at ease. “You think you’ve changed your mind? What did you want to talk about? Let’s start there and then we’ll discuss why you aren’t sure about it.” “Well, my mom talked to me after she came home, and it upset me. But now that I think about it, it seems stupid to go to you about it. You told me to call you if I needed to, and I guess I don’t really need to. I just wanted to talk for some stupid reason.” “It’s not stupid to want to talk about it if it upset you. What did she say?” I told him everything, leaving out my breakdown. I didn’t want him to know how desperately I craved my mom’s love. I figured that’d make me sound like a weak child, and that’s the last way I wanted him to think of me. “And you believe her?” I twisted my blanket in my hand, suddenly feeling self-conscious about it all. “I mean, I guess I do. She seemed sincere. She has no reason to lie to me about it. I’ve never seen her act like that toward me before, so what else am I supposed to think?”

“But then she walked away?” He sounded disbelieving, as if he couldn’t fathom it. As if a mother walking away from her child in the midst of such a heavy conversation was incomprehensible to him. The sting of tears threatened my eyes as I thought back to earlier that day when she left me crying alone on the couch. The rejection that overcame me then rushed back as if it were freshly exposed. As if she’d just walked away from me all over again. “Yes. But it was my fault. I pushed her too hard. I asked her why it was so hard to love me. I guess she couldn’t handle that and left. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just let her get the guilt off her chest and move on.” A frustrated grunt carried through the line, filling my ear with his irritation. “Stop blaming yourself. You didn’t make her walk away. If she can’t handle that kind of question, a very valid question, then that’s on her. Not you. You had every right to ask her that, and she should have given you an answer.” “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this, Mr. Taylor.” “Every time you call me that outside of school, I’m going to call you Miss Jacobs,” he said, gritting out each word in annoyance. “If we’re going to do this—talk and stuff—then I can’t have you refer to me like that. This is already hard enough on me without hearing you use such a proper name.” “Why is this so hard for you?” I longed to know, hoping it would either validate my own feelings, or set them straight once and for all. A long huff of air rushed through the earpiece, and I swear I could feel it cover me in warmth, like a blanket. “I’m new to all this, okay? I’ve already told you that I’ve subbed before and assisted other teachers, but that was always short term. I’ve never had to worry about growing an attachment to a student.” “Are you saying you are attached to me?” Why am I pushing this? “Not like that, Bree. You are in a crappy situation, and I want to help you. I can help you. And I think I’m the only one willing to do so. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. As a teacher, it is my job to protect you while you’re in my care. Unfortunately, you aren’t being protected outside my watch, and that’s what bothers me. I’ve been through this with my friend growing up, and I don’t even want to think about where he’d be without me and my parents. I don’t want to think about what will happen to you if I turn my back. So I don’t want to—I can’t turn my back on you. However, I need you to understand that you are my student. I am your teacher. And it is unethical and just plain wrong for this to go beyond me keeping you safe.” “I get it, Axel. You don’t have to explain it to me.” I gripped the phone tightly in my hand, pressing it against the side of my face, becoming so completely torn. My emotions were all over the place, fried and burnt. I couldn’t listen to him over-explain it any more than he already had. “This is just really confusing to me, and I…” I let out a sigh as I said, “I don’t know.” “Talk to me, Bree. Tell me, don’t dance around it. I’m not a mind reader.” I rolled onto my back and stared at the dark ceiling above me, hoping to find the courage to give him an honest, straightforward answer. If I expected this crush—or whatever it was—to go away and see him for who he really was, for what his purpose was in my life, I’d have to keep it real and get it all out. He’s on the phone, you don’t even have to look at him. You can say this. You can be honest with him. Do it now while the door is open, before you lose the chance. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, not thinking about the words as they came rushing out with raw candor. “I’ve never had anyone care about me before, or at least they never showed it. I’m not used to having someone watch out for my best interests, wanting to keep me safe, protect me. And I’ve never gotten

attention from the opposite sex, either. So this is all so confusing to me. I think you care about me, like you want to be around me. Like you want to talk to me. And I know why you do, you’ve been very clear about that, but you have to understand, I’m sixteen years old. The naïve, romantic inside—the small part that hasn’t been murdered by my parents—likes the way it feels. I like the way you see me, and I like knowing I have someone to talk to. But it’s hard to remind myself that this isn’t romantic. This isn’t anything more than you having a hero complex, and me playing the part of the damsel in distress.” His end of the line became very quiet, and I worried I’d lost him. I feared he’d hung up after hearing my confession…after I’d told him my brutal truth. “I’m not saying I have a thing for you. Don’t misunderstand me. I only wanted you to know where I am coming from. I am smart enough to know where you stand, and I’m not some dumb idiot that takes things out of context. But I am still a girl, one that has never been in a relationship of any kind. A girl that dreams of having someone look at her the way you do. I want to be seen. I want to be loved. And it’s hard not to grow attached to the only person in my entire life giving me all that.” “Bree…” “You don’t have to say anything. I know how you feel, and now you know how I do. You wanted me to be honest with you, so I am. Please, don’t say anything else. I think we’re both on the same page. Nothing else needs to be explained.” I knew that wouldn’t stop him, but I at least had to try. My chest ached from my confession, and I knew it would hurt so much worse if I had to hear his harsh words. “Bree, this thing between you and I—” “You and me,” I corrected him, cutting off his words. “What?” “You said ‘you and I,’ and that’s crappy grammar. It’s supposed to be ‘you and me.’ If you remove the ‘you’ from the sentence, you’d know which one to use. It’s misused a lot, yet there’s a very easy way to know which word to use correctly.” I wanted to smack myself…and then laugh. Smack myself because this was not the time to correct his English, however, it felt good to tease him as if we weren’t in the middle of a serious conversation. “I’m a history teacher, not a grammar expert,” he said with a laugh. Once I heard his deep, rumbling chuckle, my own laughter bubbled out. And suddenly, the weight that surrounded me began to ease. The darkness that filled the space around me lightened, and the air cooled. All it took was one laugh from Axel to calm my racing heart, lessen the tension in my muscles, and soothe the heat that had flushed my cheeks. “True, but you’re still an educated adult. I may be your student, and a child in your eyes, but that doesn’t mean you should sound like ignorant kids my age.” In my head, it sounded funny, but out loud, all my words did was point out the obvious: he was an adult, and I was not. “In my defense, most people your age aren’t as smart as you.” I appreciated how he didn’t call me a kid and gave me a compliment at the same time. It made me smile and become slightly more confident. “Guess that means when you talk to me, you need to up your game, huh? I wouldn’t want to show you up in the intelligence department. It might embarrass you.” My voice came out light due to the ear-to-ear grin on my face, my playfulness obvious in every word. “Bree, I’m rather certain that you’re more intelligent than I. Me. I am? Now you have me confused and slightly terrified to use the wrong word,” he said, causing us both to laugh uncontrollably. I had to turn my face into the pillow in order to keep my giggles from waking my mother. After our

talk earlier, I didn’t think she’d barge into my room, not to mention, she hadn’t had any wine, but I didn’t want to take the chance. “But back to what I was saying before your impromptu grammar lesson…” His voice slowly calmed down and turned more serious, causing my giggles to die. “This thing between you and me? I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want you to be confused, or think too much into it. That’s the last thing I want, because if you’re uncomfortable with me, I worry you won’t come to me if you need to. And it scares me to think of you in danger, or pain, and not have anyone to turn to. I won’t show up at your house again, I promise. But I need you to tell me what else I should do—or not do—in order to keep this friendship in check. Like I’ve said, this is new to me. And it’s new to you, too. Maybe we should set boundaries, ground rules, something to make sure neither of us cross any imaginary lines.” I took a moment to breathe, to watch the shadows of the trees from outside my window dance along my wall, and waited for the crushing weight to press against my chest. But it never came. The sting of tears never surfaced, the knot in my lower belly never formed, and the invisible hand around my heart never tightened. What I did feel, though, was respect. It blossomed into a heated veil that covered me. His words didn’t burn like I thought they would, the rejection absent from them. Maybe because I knew they were coming? Or maybe because his words echoed my own thoughts? Whatever the reasons, a comfort took ahold of my insides, and I knew he wasn’t turning his back on me. He had no intentions of leaving me and walking away. He still wanted to be there for me. And that’s when my own feelings became clear. What I thought had been a developing crush on my teacher, was nothing more than the deep desire to be cared for. I didn’t need his physical affection, or even for him to think of me as anything other than a student that needed his protection. And just like that, I was okay. “You’re not doing anything wrong, Axel. I only wanted you to be aware of how my brain works. I’m not saying I have a crush on you, or that I’m expecting something to come from this. All I wanted to do was get it all out so there would be no possible way my mind could twist anything and somehow convince myself our friendship is more than it is. That’s all. But now that we’ve got that out of the way, hopefully any future bantering or unexpected phone calls won’t become awkward or strained. I have enough of that in my life…I’d really like to have a relationship with someone that is natural and easy.” “I’d like that, too.” I heard the grin in his tone, and if I closed my eyes, it was as though I could see him right in front of me. Smirk and all. “So…before I get off here and get ready for tomorrow, is there anything else you want to talk about? Your mom? Life? Fucking rainbows?” I laughed and shook my head at his inappropriate—yet completely at ease—language. “Nope. Nothing else. I didn’t really mean to text you earlier. I think the ability to simply text someone became too much to resist. Anytime I’ve ever wanted to talk to someone before, I never had the option.” “Never apologize for reaching out to me. That’s what I gave you the phone for, remember? I know I said to use it for emergencies, and that was the primary reason for giving it to you, but I’m always here to listen if you need to talk. Everyone needs someone to talk to.” “Thank you, Axel.” “Goodnight, Bree.” I ended the call, flipped the top closed, and held the phone to my chest. I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t do a little somersault, or that my stomach didn’t house thousands of tiny butterflies when I closed my eyes and thought about my new friend. But I wasn’t stupid, either. I didn’t fall asleep dreaming of a future with Axel, filled with half a dozen red-haired, blue-eyed kids. I didn’t wake up and choose my

outfit with him in mind. I didn’t walk into school with an eagerness to see him. No. I dreamt of security, I dressed for the weather, and walked into class eager to learn. Seeing his smile from across the room was merely a bonus.

“MORNING, BREE,” AXEL SAID AS I took my seat in front of him. The sly expression on his face appeared dangerous, as if it harbored a secret. And then I felt my own form on my lips and realized what that secret was…our late-night chat on the phone. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t done anything wrong. There really wasn’t much of a secret to keep. Sure, a teacher bought a phone for his student, and they had a conversation. But delving deeper into it— the reason he bought her the phone, what they talked about—proved they had nothing to be ashamed of. We had nothing to worry about, or anything to hide. But that didn’t stop us from exchanging quick, knowing glances before looking away. There was something exciting about danger. The enticing allure of it all. It made people want to have secrets. “Morning, Mr. Taylor.” I made sure to enunciate his name, if only to ruffle his feathers. And I knew I got to him when he produced a crooked grin that took over his face and his head shook side to side in silent laughter. “Feeling better today?” he asked once his eyes met mine again, the initial reaction to seeing each other gone. “You seem better, more…spunky.” “Tons better. Thank you. And I don’t know about being spunky, but I have had quite an odd morning. My mom was in the kitchen when I came downstairs for breakfast. She’s always gone by the time I wake up for school. So it was surprising to see her. I guess she was waiting for me. She asked how I was, felt my forehead, and then left. It was bizarre.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his gaze at me. “Think she’s feeling bad about yesterday?” “Maybe…but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t—” “Mr. Taylor…” Rebecca interrupted me as she trotted over to his desk and leaned her hip against the edge. She held her books to her chest, but traced some invisible line along the top of his desk with her manicured fingertip, very close to his resting arm. “I think I’m going to need some extra help for this test we have on Friday. I’m just not getting it, and I want to do good on it.” Irritation burned within me as I watched her openly flirt with him, but it quickly vanished once Axel spoke. “Well. You want to do well on the test.” Then he glanced back at me with a raised eyebrow, as if seeking my approval. “And although I appreciate your desire to pass my class, I’ve given you all the information you need for the test. We will continue going over it today and tomorrow. If you for some

reason don’t pass this one, I believe the library has a list of student tutors that can help you for future tests.” “Oh…well, I was kinda hoping you offered afterschool lessons.” I could tell he fought to keep his eyes off mine as he answered. “No. I’m sorry, but I don’t offer those. There are plenty of students in this school capable of giving help to you if that’s what you’re looking for.” Rebecca huffed out a breath, making girls my age seem incompetent and immature, and then left her perch, flouncing to her seat. Her desk was close to mine, so I couldn’t make any comments to Axel without her overhearing. Instead, I decided to write it down and pass it to him. Very proud of your English skills. Without looking at him, I could hear his soft laughter and imagined him shaking his head as he often did when he found something funny. But I couldn’t chance seeing for myself. Our “secret” may have only been obvious to us, but the mere thought of someone else finding out, and then having to give it up, had me overly cautious around him. I learned from the best. The paper slid in front of me before he stood from his seat to take the podium. The music in the halls sounded, and everyone knew the bell would ring any second. Students rushed through the door and took their seats. And then class began. As he taught from the front of the class, I took notes, neither of us catching each other’s eyes. It felt strange to purposely look down instead of at him. But I no longer needed to seek out his attention. I didn’t need to lock eyes with him or see him smile to gain reassurance. I knew I had him on my side. Our conversation the night before had left me settled. Prior to that talk, each time his eyes had met mine or he’d say something to me, confusion and insecurities bred doubt and panic within my mind. But not anymore. I no longer felt that way. I’m sure it’s perfectly normal for a teenage girl to crush on her hot teacher. What’s not normal is when said hot teacher returns her attention, growing it into affection, and turning that into an affair. An illegal, very dangerous affair. Lives become ruined when those things happen. I would know all about that… I was a freshman when a teacher from my school had been caught with his pants down with an underage student. It’s all anyone talked about for a year. And then my mom helped prosecute him. So needless to say, ever since meeting Axel, worry over his job, his livelihood, my reputation, and everything in between, festered into paranoia. But I didn’t feel that way anymore. Our conversation the night before had given me great insight, and I knew where he stood, but more importantly, I knew where I stood. Knowledge truly is a beautiful thing.

Everything seemed to settle down after that. My cold got better, my fears dimmed, and even my insecurities began to ease. My mom grew more distant, though. She never did apologize for anything, but that wasn’t something new. Her insults and aggressive lectures turned into dismissals and avoidance. She ignored me most of the time, and when she did talk, it was nothing more than asking me to pass the salt at

dinner. I didn’t know what I was complaining about, since all I wanted was for the hostility to end. And it had. Only, in its place, I had gotten nothing. Absolutely nothing. I had to tell myself that silence was golden, and that this was better than words filled with resentment and loathing. As for Axel, we somehow built a pretty solid friendship. I didn’t see him outside of school again after the day he had stopped by my house, but that didn’t mean we didn’t talk. We’d share a few words before class, leave notes for each other on occasion—never saying anything that could get either of us in trouble—and we exchanged text messages and phone calls. Nothing major, but it was enough to fill me with a confidence I’d never experienced before. I had a friend. For the first time in my life, I had someone to say “hi” to. I had someone there for me to confide in. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out how many people take that for granted. It’s an easy thing to do. When you’re so used to having people in your life, people that call just to talk about their day or ask about yours, when you’ve never known what true isolation is like, it’s easy to forget how lucky you are. Me, on the other hand, I knew the other side of the coin. I understood all too well what it meant to be lonely, to harbor everything inside because there’s no one to listen to you. And that’s why having Axel as a friend provided me with a natural high. It had me soring with confidence. But it also made me understand what I stood to lose if anyone found out. We couldn’t become careless, because if rumors started, we both knew we’d have to back off. He never said it, but I was smart enough to understand that although he needed to protect me, he still had to watch out for the ramifications of having a friendship with me. And then I’d be back at square one. I wasn’t ready for that, and felt I never would be. So I made sure to act normal around him, call him Mr. Taylor in class, and never say anything that could be taken out of context—in notes or texts. But all my cautious acting and plotted words didn’t protect me from what happened two weeks later. It was a Saturday, the last day of January. My mom had some kind of work-related fundraiser to attend that evening, and I wanted to be out of her hair while she got ready. We’d managed to go three weeks without an argument, and I didn’t want to ruin the streak. So I headed out back with a book and decided to read in the quietness that nature provided. My street formed a V with the one behind us. Trees separated the backs of the houses, growing thicker the farther away from the intersection you went. I lived only four houses away from the corner, so the tree line in my back yard wasn’t as wide as it was five houses down, but it gave me enough privacy to read without interruptions. While some people had a favorite recliner by a fireplace or a special corner in Starbucks where they liked to read, I had my forest. It allowed me to be alone without feeling lonely. Nature had a way of offering peaceful company without the judgment or uncomfortable silence. Sitting on a bed of leaves with my back resting against a tree trunk, I pulled my jacket tight around my torso and thought of Axel. Over the last few weeks, he’d become everything I enjoyed about nature— comforting and calming. But much like the outdoors, nothing could be predicted. Weather wasn’t reliable —you never knew when a storm could come and tear apart everything you’ve built. No matter how often man attempts to predict Mother Nature, nothing is certain. Tectonic plates shift without warning, and the earth opens up, swallowing anything that comes within reach. Volcanoes erupt and release hot magma from deep within the earth, covering everything it reaches in molten lava. Tsunamis form and travel hundreds of miles before crashing into land, smothering all kinds of life upon contact with its tidal wave of destruction. No one can predict these things, no matter how hard they try. But the worst damage comes from not being prepared. From being hit with disaster without an ounce

of warning. From being deceived when the weatherman predicts sunshine and blue skies, completely ignoring the monsoon brewing outside your front door, just waiting to completely decimate you whole. My proverbial natural disaster came in the form of a golden retriever while I read my book, minding my own business. I heard the clinking of the tags first, then the shuffles in the dried leaves that covered the ground. I glanced up from my book, wondering about the distraction ahead of me, when I found the most beautiful dog with long, blond hair and a wagging tail. I stood, stuffed my book into my jacket pocket, and then slowly approached the animal. I made sure to keep my movements soft and fluid, not wanting to frighten it, but it came right to me, panting around the heavy tongue that hung from the side of its mouth. “What are you doing out here?” I asked aloud while petting the soft coat. I took a peek at its belly, checking the gender before taking a look at the tags around her neck. “You’re a good girl. Where’s your home?” Her tags held no information other than proof of her vaccines. I knew she belonged to someone who took good care of her because she certainly didn’t appear to lack food or shots. She turned around, heading back where she had come from, and I followed, making sure she got home safely. Every few feet, she’d stop and glance behind her, checking to see if I still trailed her, and it put a smile on my face. I laughed at the thought of her playing matchmaker for her owner and me. That’d be something I would read about in a book, not something that’d happen in real life, but it gave me humor to imagine it, nonetheless. We must’ve walked about six houses away from where we’d started, toward the far end of my street. The wooded area had grown wider with every step we took, and it became harder to see the houses on either side of the line of trees. But eventually, I followed the dog out of the neighborhood forest and into a well-manicured back yard on the street behind mine. Her pace slowed, showing how exhausted she must’ve been after her adventure. I stroked her coat once more, and then waited for her to plop onto the open patio before turning to head back, but she stopped when someone spoke up. “Lassie? Where did you…?” I stilled at the edge of the yard, my feet teetering on the line of grass that disappeared beneath brown leaves. I didn’t move again until I heard my name. “Bree?” With my heel dug in, I spun around, squinting my eyes in the sun to find the owner of the deep voice that had called my name. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found him, since I’d heard him say my name dozens of times before, but that didn’t stop the swarm of Monarchs in my stomach when my eyes settled on his before wandering south to take in a body I’d only dreamed about. “What are you doing here, Bree?” he asked while twisting his shirt in his hands. His expression appeared rigid, concerned as he studied me carefully through his long lashes. The crease in his brow deepened the longer I stood there, but I couldn’t find my voice. His rough, worried tone accentuated his intense stance and penetrating gaze, and it sent my world spinning. I’d seen him plenty of times in dress shirts and slacks, and even once while he wore a sweater and jeans. But nothing could’ve prepared me for what he’d look like without a shirt on. All the time spent imagining what hid beneath those shirts in class didn’t do shit, because the hard planes of his pecs, the clear definition of his abs, and the deep lines that ran inward on either hip—the ones that formed a prominent V leading beneath the waistband of his jeans—made my mental picture of him seem more like Popeye before the can of spinach. Whereas, seeing him with my own two eyes, in the flesh, right in front of me, he was definitely the sailorman post-greens. “Bree…” His voice broke the spell enough to catch my attention. “Is everything okay? Are you all

right? What are you doing here?” he asked as he took guarded steps in my direction. I shook my head, needing to dispel the images his half-naked body projected in my mind, and directed my sight to the grass below my feet. “I’m fine, Axel. I’m just taken off guard. I didn’t know you lived here.” I glanced back up, sensing how close he’d gotten. “I was in my back yard reading when—what I’m assuming is—your dog came over. I just wanted to make sure she got back home safely. I swear, I didn’t know this was your house.” His shoulders dropped as he released a ragged breath. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said with a shaky laugh. “Lassie likes to wander around in the trees sometimes when I’m working in the yard. I thought I heard her come back, and then I saw you, and my mind… I guess I thought the worst and panicked a little.” I tried to smile, hoping it would ease the heart-pounding tension that now seemed to encompass us both. “It’s okay. I’ve got to say, seeing you kind of freaked me out a little, too. I wasn’t expecting to run into you in my own back yard—well, your back yard. You know what I mean.” My words became jumbled as I tried to explain, my waning insecurity coming back tenfold. We’d managed to be at ease around one another for two weeks, talk about almost anything, laugh at everything, and not once did either of us act as if we shared airspace with Dumbo. Yet, for some reason, standing together in the open, away from the protection of school with no witnesses, we acted more like perfect strangers instead of friends. Our eyes failed to hold the other’s, our smiles faltered, and our chuckles came out forced and uneasy. Our feet shuffled nervously in the grass, and neither of us seemed to know what to do with our hands. This was certainly new, and I didn’t know how to handle it. “I told you I live close to you. Your house is on my way home from the school. I wasn’t lying about that. It wasn’t a made-up excuse to see you or anything.” “Yeah, but living close to me could be a mile or so away…that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re right outside my back door. It doesn’t even insinuate you’re in walking distance from me. You knew this whole time that we live, what…five, six houses away from each other, yet you never told me?” He appeared to be put off by my attitude because his line of sight danced around the trees behind me, never settling on my face. “Yes, but I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it.” Finally, he took a deep breath and scrutinized me with his intense stare, making me feel as though a heat wave had blasted through my body, despite the sixty-degree weather and cool breeze. “I didn’t want to make it seem like an invitation to stop by, because that would be completely inappropriate. I understand I came to your house when you were sick, but I’ve since realized how wrong that was. And I swore I wouldn’t do it again— unless it’s absolutely needed. Unless you’re in trouble and need me to come. Other than that, I have no business at your house, and you have no business at mine. What good would it do for me to tell you where I live? Why would I need to tell you that?” Axel had always been really good about not making me feel rejected, even when rejecting me. He had a way of wording things to ease the blow, and I was fine with that. I understood our friendship, and I never expected anything beyond it. I’d always kept our conversations clean, free of anything remotely close to indecent topics. So his explanation sent a hard punch to my chest, knocking the wind out of me. It hurt, stung, and the pain rippled through me until it morphed into anger. The anger bubbled, boiling into rage, which left my face heated from the fire it ignited within me. “Gee, I don’t know, Mr. Taylor.” I spread my arms wide, throwing every ounce of fury into my words and enunciating it with my body language. “Maybe so something like this wouldn’t happen? Had I known

that over the river and through the woods, to Axel Taylor’s house I go…I wouldn’t have made the trip! But I’m glad I know how you really feel. This was a good thing—me stumbling over here like this. Because now I know that you see me as…what, Axel? A stalker? Some kid who’d randomly stop by your house and peek through the windows? Do you think of me as a peeping Tom? Or maybe you’re worried I’d come by when you’re not home and sneak inside to rifle through your underwear drawer and curl up in your bed. Fuck you.” I spun on my heel and took off toward the line of trees. “Aubrey! Wait!” He must’ve only taken three steps before reaching me, grabbing my upper arm and pulling me into his hard body. In the process of halting my escape, he managed to turn me around so that when I fell into him, my face slammed against his bare chest. His warm, sweaty, bare chest. I froze, unable to move or fight back. Somehow, my hands ended up on his sides, just above the waistband of his jeans. The fingers of one hand remained wrapped around my upper arm while the others cautiously caressed my back. I could hear the harsh, angry beats of his heart through his chest, thumping against my ear like heavy bass through a speaker. Or was that the sound of my own heartbeat deafening me? “Bree…that’s not what I meant.” He moved his hand from my upper back to the side of my face, threading his long fingers through the strands of hair next to my ear. He kept it there for a beat before using that hold to pull my head away, angling it until we were face to face. His eyes clouded over with an intense darkness, and even though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. The usually bright-blue color came to life with a hypnotizing depth, holding me hostage and defenseless against it. I became instantly powerless to stop the hold his fierce stare had over me. “You’re taking my words out of context. You know I don’t think those things about you. If I did, would I continue talking to you every night? No. If I thought, even for a second, that befriending you would be hazardous to my safety or dangerous to either of us, I would have never started this to begin with. I didn’t tell you where I live for several reasons, but none of them are even close to your assumptions.” I skimmed my hands over his sides and up his front, pressing them flat to the center of his solid, hairless chest. His skin reminded me of a layer of silk over hard rock. This was definitely not a boy’s body. It belonged to a man. That one move offered me some distance from him. It put a barrier between us. Even if my small hands were no match against his strength, it still gave me a tiny sense of security. In a span of two minutes, my only friend had managed to flip my entire world upside down, leaving me with the worst case of vertigo. “But you said I have no business at your house…” “Yes,” he said softly, punctuating his one word with a slow nod. “I said that because it’s true. It wasn’t meant to be mean.” I swallowed and attempted to lower my gaze, needing to break eye contact, but he wouldn’t allow it, tipping my chin up with a finger. “You said you had several reasons. What are they? If that’s not what you meant, then tell me why.” My voice was quiet but strong, unwavering in my demand for answers. He blinked a few times. Dark lashes that would make any woman jealous rested on his cheeks before reaching his eyebrows again. When he exhaled, his warm breath fluttered across my face, reminding me of a summer’s breeze. Then, once he seemed composed enough to continue, his eyes met mine again. This time, instead of fierce intensity, they grew troubled. He seemed sad, or possibly distraught. Guarded even.

Panic filled me as I watched him struggle for words. Tingling fear that started in my toes, worked its way up my body until my hands shook against his chest and unshed tears stabbed the backs of my eyes. “Bree…” “Just get it over with, Axel,” I begged, my chest heaving with short pants, none deep enough to fill my lungs properly. My head began to spin, and the metallic taste on my tongue warned me of an impending blackout if my brain didn’t receive oxygen soon. “Stop beating around the bush and spit it out. You can’t possibly hurt me more than you already have, so stop trying to protect me and just fucking say it.” “I’m not trying to protect you. I’m trying to protect myself.” His words came out rough and scratchy, yet filled with air. They sounded desperate, heavy with emotion that I couldn’t comprehend. “And maybe I’m also protecting you, but not the way you think.” The lack of oxygen to my brain must’ve been worse than I originally thought, because in the blink of an eye, my hands had gone from his chest, where they kept him at a distance, to his face, cupping his unshaven cheeks and pulling him closer to me. So close that every breath he took put pressure on my breasts. “Tell me,” I whispered desperately. He lowered his forehead to mine and opened his mouth to speak.

“YOU TOLD ME WEEKS AGO about how I confused you. You explained how easy it is for girls to become attached to someone who shows them affection. Remember that? And we agreed to keep it simple, to not blur the details of our friendship. The smart thing to do would be to put distance between us and keep our relationship strictly professional. I’d remain the teacher and nothing more, and you would be no different than any other student in my class. I’d still be there for you if you needed me. If things at home got out of hand, if you got hurt or your mom crossed a line again. I’d still make myself available to you for those reasons, and those reasons alone. Not to chat with at night before bed. Not to leave funny jokes on my desk or talk about what you made for dinner.” I closed my eyes and braced myself for the fallout of my only friendship. “But I can’t do that. I’ve thought about it, I won’t lie. I know that’s the safest decision, the smartest thing to do. But I can’t. I look forward to your calls, your texts. The highlight of my day is first thing in the morning before the bell rings when I get five minutes with you. I genuinely enjoy our conversations and feel like I can talk about anything with you. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I don’t want to give that up.” I pulled my head away, breaking the contact of our foreheads so I could look him in the eye. “I don’t understand then. You’re not making a bit of sense to me. This doesn’t answer why you wouldn’t tell me that we’re neighbors.” His hands dropped to his sides, releasing his hold on me, so I dropped mine, too. I felt like a fish out of water, my emotions flopping around, not knowing what to do or say. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I crossed them over my chest, even though I wasn’t cold. I didn’t know what to look at, but I couldn’t find it within me to break our stare. Confusion like I’d never felt before consumed me, leaving me silently pleading for answers, because what he said sounded a lot like he had feelings for me that went beyond the friendly kind we’d agreed upon. But I wouldn’t allow my mind to go there without his verbal confirmation. And I had no idea how I’d feel either way. “Bree, when you call, I answer. When you text, I respond. When you walk into my classroom, everything else stops until that bell rings. Don’t you see? If I’d told you where I live, and you happened to stop by—be it out of boredom or just to say hi—I wouldn’t be able to stop you. I wouldn’t be able to turn you away. And what would happen if someone saw you here? I’m sure our neighbors know your age, and they can guess mine. What do you think they’d do? Because I can bet they’d go to your mom and let her know that her sixteen-year-old daughter was at a twenty-something-year-old man’s house. I’m a big boy. I can handle her on my own. Things might get shitty for me, but we’ve done nothing wrong, so I can deal with her.

“But what about you? I don’t even want to think about what she’d do to you. I’ve seen the aftermath from the last time she was angry with you—and that was because of a melted ice cube on the floor! You’ve already told me how she suspects things involving you and guys. And that’s with no evidence to support her theories. She’d lose her freaking mind if she actually had something to go on, such as you at my house. So, I didn’t tell you, because I knew I would invite you in if you ever came by. I wouldn’t have the strength to turn you away. And knowing that, I didn’t want to chance you having to deal with the fallout of my weakness.” “I wouldn’t have stopped by. I’m only here because your dog found me reading behind my house. Had I known she was your dog, or that this was your house, I would’ve stayed behind the tree line and gone back home once I knew she was back where she belonged.” I drew in a lungful of cool air and stepped back, giving him some space. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or cause any of this.” “It’s fine. I get it. This whole thing sucks because it could’ve been avoided, but I get it. Thank you for telling me the truth. I promise I won’t come back. You don’t have to worry about me showing up, or the neighbors assuming things. But really, Axel, if you want to keep the gossip down, I suggest you put your shirt back on. That”—I waved my hand in front of his perfectly chiseled body—“is like begging for old housewives to talk. I’m sure there are a few of them perched by their windows now, just enjoying the view.” I released a giggle the moment his smile appeared. And just like that, the easy banter returned as if the last five minutes never happened. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” He took a few steps and bent down to retrieve his discarded shirt. Throughout the commotion, I never even saw him drop it. But he picked it up and slid it on, pulling the long sleeves back down to cover his arms. “Better?” he asked with his arms out beside him and a crooked smirk on his face. “Much. Nobody needs to see what’s under there.” “Why?” I tried to suppress a smirk, but failed miserably. “Because I’m sure the divorce rate will skyrocket around here. Women will use you as an example to their husbands, telling them they need to get off their lazy asses and work out more. The husbands will turn around and tell them that they nag too much, and the sound of their voice makes them want to stab themselves in the eardrum with an unsharpened pencil. Fights will ensue, glass will get broken, cops will be called for domestic disturbances, and it’ll all be your fault.” His loud roar of amusement echoed through the yard, bouncing off his house behind us and filling me with peace. “I’m pretty sure if that happened, that means they already had issues long before I took my shirt off. But my main concern right now is your messed-up view of marriages. I think you should seek professional help.” “Me? I need help? Dude, you named your dog Lassie. And you were shirtless outside when the temperature is like sixty degrees. I could go on, but I’ll leave it at that. If anyone needs a psyche eval, it’s you.” I had no idea if the way we joked with one another could be considered normal friend behavior, but it was exactly the way I wanted it. Snickering and teasing with him this way brought me happiness, so it didn’t matter if it was normal, or could be perceived as flirting. All that mattered was that it was us. It came natural, easy, and it made me happy. “Did you seriously just call me ‘dude’? And yes, I named my dog Lassie. You’ll be the jealous one

when she rescues a boy named Timmy from a well. It could happen, and you’ll be the first to tell me how awesome that is. As for me not wearing a shirt outside? I was doing hard labor in the yard. I got hot and started to sweat. Have you ever worn sweaty clothes in cool weather? It sucks. So I took it off to cool down without having a cold, damp shirt stuck to my skin. It’s not crazy, it happens.” I loved how he could give it right back to me. He’d act offended and become defensive, yet when I focused on his lips, I could see him strain to keep them straight. And his eyes…they sparkled with humor, shining bright blue even though they were slightly squinted, causing the edges to crease while he fought off his laughter. Those were the images I pictured when we talked on the phone. When he’d argue some invalid point with me, or defend his improper grammar. I knew what he looked like even without being in front of him. Was this normal? “Hard labor, huh? What were you doing, watching the grass grow?” “I’ll have you know, I’ve been planting things on the side of the house.” “You own this house?” I had no idea why the thought of him purchasing his own home caught me off guard, but it did. Maybe because he was young, and I’d always imagined people only bought homes when they settled down permanently, got a little bit older, and started a family. Axel didn’t seem to be there yet. Or at least I didn’t think he was. “No. I’m renting, but I love landscaping. My dad did it, owned his own lawn-care company. I used to help him out when I was younger, and during the summers in college.” He shrugged, showing a hint of his own insecurity for the first time. I’d never pictured him as having any kind of self-doubt before, but it was nice to see. It reminded me that he was human, normal, not that different from me. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from it. Enjoy digging holes.” I winked at him and turned around, prepared to head back to my house. “You’re welcome to stay if you want.” I peered over my shoulder at him. “I have a brown thumb, I’m sure you don’t want me anywhere near your flowers. But thanks for the offer. I’d only get in your way and make you redo it all again, anyway.” His nose wrinkled and his top lip pulled up in disgust. “They’re not flowers. They’re shrubbery. Very big difference. And you don’t have to help. You could just sit there and keep me company.” I squared my shoulders and tilted my head to the side, debating if I should question him or not. “What you said earlier…about me being here and the neighbors catching us…” “I’m sure if they’re going to say something, it’ll be about our argument, not about you watching me work on my landscape. We were sort of wrapped up in a moment back there—me grabbing you, you touching me, depending on the angle, I’m sure we looked like we were kissing with as close as our faces were. If someone’s going to say something, they already have the ammunition. We might have a chance at redemption if they see us how we normally are. But it’s up to you. I don’t want to keep you here if you—” “I’ll stay,” I said with a smile, cutting him off before I changed my mind and ran back to my house. More than likely, my mom had already gone, so my choice was between an empty, lonely house, or my best friend’s—my only friend’s—company. I’d choose Axel every time. I followed him to the side yard where his tools rested against the house. I sat in the grass near where he worked, and pulled my book from my pocket, attempting to read while he dug holes and filled them with small, leafy-looking plants. “Why are you planting things in the winter? Doesn’t it defeat the purpose if they’re just going to die

anyway?” He wiped his brow with the back of his arm and turned to me. “No, actually, winter is a good time to plant shrubs. Flowers not so much, but trees and shrubbery do very well planted this time of year. They thrive better, and have a greater chance of survival against unpredictable summer weather. People don’t realize this, and plant them during the hot months. The heat tends to kill them before they have a chance to take root and grow.” With my eyebrows raised, I nodded slowly, amazed at his confidence. “You’re chock full of useless knowledge, aren’t you?” He’d already returned his attention to the hole in front of him, but I could see his shoulders bounce with his laughter. “Call it useless all you want, Bree, but one day, you’ll look back on this and thank me for my knowledge. What I’ve taught you today could possibly save your future shrubs.” After about five minutes of silence, I bit my lip, curiosity getting the best of me. Questions had come to my mind since stumbling upon his house earlier, things I suddenly had interest in knowing, but feared his reaction if I were to quiz him. We had an easy friendship going, and I never hesitated to talk about things with him, but the questions that plagued the tip of my tongue were far more personal than anything we’d ever discussed before. I tried to hold back, yet the longer the silence spread between us, the more the pressure built to say something. Anything. And the more I thought about talking, the louder the questions became in my head. “So, do you remember that day when Rebecca asked you about the picture on your desk?” I practically blurted it out as I yanked on blades of dry grass from the ground. He stilled and tilted his head to the sky, keeping his back to me. After a moment, he returned to his task and shook his head. “No, not really. What did she ask about it?” “She wanted to know if it was a picture of your girlfriend…or wife.” “Oh, yeah. I remember. What about it?” “Well, you didn’t really answer her question, you just said it was somebody you cared about a lot.” He glanced over his shoulder and wagged his eyebrows in my direction. “Let me guess…you want to know the answer?” I shrugged, giving him a noncommittal answer out of not wanting to sound as desperate as Rebecca. “Have you seen the picture she was talking about, Bree?” I continued to pluck away at the grass near my crossed legs, trying my best to appear nonchalant. “No. I don’t really pay that much attention to the things on your desk. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever been on the other side of your desk to even see what you have on it. I always see it from the front, from my seat.” His shoulders bounced again with a silent chuckle, and the sight of his relaxed attitude over my question succeeded in calming my nerves. “If you had seen the picture, you’d know the answer. It’s my sister.” “Let me guess. Her name is Rose.” Axel released a rumbling laugh. “No, even my mom thought that would sound ridiculous. Her name is Tracii.” He twisted his upper body and faced me. “Since you have zero knowledge about good music, I’ll explain. My parents caught some of their early performances before they hit it big. That’s how my mom fell in love with them. Guns N’ Roses was actually formed by Axl Rose and Tracii Guns…hence the name. But Tracii left the band very early on, and was replaced with Slash. I don’t think my mom really

followed Tracii, but she thought it would be cool to name us after the band, regardless of who the guitarist was.” “Your mom sounds like a clever individual. But why would she name your sister after the member that left? Doesn’t that kind of seem like a bad omen or something?” He continued to watch me as we talked. “You know, I asked her the same thing once. She told me that it’s always important to know where you start. Where your beginning was. She thought it was symbolic. And just like the original Tracii and Axl, who both went their own ways, she wanted us to be individuals. She wanted us to know where we came from, but not be afraid to grow into our own.” “Is Tracii younger than you?” He turned back around to keep working as he explained. “We’re actually twins. She’s seven minutes older than me. We look alike, except she colors her hair, so hers is considerably lighter than mine. But we have the same eyes, same nose, same facial expressions…well, my smile is better. We both had braces when we were younger. I wore my retainer like I was supposed to and she didn’t. But our personalities couldn’t be more different. She’s stubborn and hardheaded, argumentative and abrasive at times. Heart the size of Texas, but damn, don’t ever find yourself on her bad side.” “I’ll remember that when I meet her,” I said sarcastically, lost in the sound of his voice while I fidgeted with the grass. The grin on my face fell when I glanced up, wondering why he’d gone silent. I found him sitting on his bottom, turned around to face me with a serious expression on his face. I couldn’t read the lines in his forehead or understand the concentrated look in his eyes. “What? What did I say?” “Nothing.” He shook his head, the stiffness in his shoulders relaxing some. “Would you like to meet my sister?” “What? No. Why would I want to do that?” “Well, you mentioned something about meeting her.” “I was being facetious. You told me not to get on her bad side, so I mockingly replied I’d keep that in mind. Why would I want to meet your sister?” Out of all the possible scenarios that ran through my mind of his reaction to my question, not one of them came close to this. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a female friend before. If you were a guy, I’m sure there would be a time when you’d meet my family. We’re really close. Wait…no. If you were a guy, there’d be no way in hell I’d let you meet my sister. Apparently, the bro code is mythical, because all my friends growing up never thought twice before hitting on her.” “What about your friend Danny? Did he hit on her, too?” “Not back then. He never thought he deserved her. His self-esteem was really low, no thanks to his asshole of a father. But they were friends. Now they’re married and expecting their first child this summer.” He spoke while working, apparently comfortable discussing things again. “That didn’t piss you off?” “Hell no. He’s a great guy, the best. And she’s exactly what he needed. They’re perfect for each other. Couldn’t be happier.” He stopped again to look back at me over his shoulder before continuing. “I really think you’d like them. You remind me a lot of my sister, only not as bitchy.” “You’re confusing me again, Axel. Do you want me to meet your sister—your family—or not? Because I kind of need to know what’s going on before more questions fill my head.” “I don’t know, Bree. I didn’t say I want to take you to my family dinner, just that I think you’d get along with her. And what questions do you mean?” He seemed to be rapidly growing irritated, and that’s

not at all what I wanted to happen. I became embarrassed for some reason, and had to take a moment to sort through my thoughts. His attitude sort of came out of nowhere, taking me by surprise, as if the wind had been knocked out of me. “Well, for starters, you said a lot of stuff today that kinda has my head spinning. Like when you told me how you look forward to my calls, and seeing me in the mornings is the highlight of your day.” My heart rate sped up the more I chattered on. Nervous didn’t even begin to describe how I felt opening this can of worms. This conversation could go very bad, very quickly. But I’d already opened my mouth, so I couldn’t stop now. “Your words were that if I ever came by, you’d never turn me away. You’d invite me in. Now you’re talking about how I’d get along with your family. What does that mean?” He dropped his head into his hands, getting dirt on his face but not seeming to care one bit. His elbows rested on his bent knees as he worked his fingers through hair before fisting it and letting out a frustrated grunt. “I can’t explain it, Bree. You claim it has your head spinning. Why don’t you tell me what you think I mean by it?” “That’s not fair. I’m not the one who said those things to begin with. How am I supposed to know what you meant by it? I mean, you say that it’s a bad idea for me to be here, yet here I am. And I’m only here because you insisted that I stay. After telling me I have no business being at your house. Talk about mixed signals.” His arms fell away as he turned his face toward the sky. I’d seen many sides of Axel Taylor over the almost four weeks I’d known him. I’d witnessed many different emotions from him over the last two and a half weeks since we’d started communicating regularly. But the version of him in front of me was something new. Instead of strength and confidence, I saw weakness and doubt. Instead of anger or control, he seemed lost and powerless. Instead of the man I’d grown accustomed to, a little boy sat in his place, and it made me want to go to him, hold him, and comfort him the same way he’d done for me so many times before. But before I could move toward him, he dropped his head and locked eyes with mine, silently begging me to respond. It was as if he feared his own words, and needed me to fill the silence. So I did. “Axel, you’re the one that drew the lines of this friendship in the sand. You reiterated how important it was that I didn’t develop feelings for you. It’s unethical and wrong…remember? You said that. You didn’t want me thinking too much into things, because it would make everything complicated and confusing. I’ve done my part. I haven’t blurred or crossed any lines. I’ve never overstepped the boundaries of this friendship. So yeah, this has my head spinning because I don’t know where it came from. I have no idea what happened or when. So I’m asking you to clarify it for me.” “I can’t,” he choked out, his voice nearly giving in under the strain of his abundant emotions. “You’re right. I said all those things to you. And you’ve done everything I’ve asked. You’ve followed all the rules. I’m the one that failed you. I’m the one that underestimated everything.” “What does that mean?” I shouted, at the end of my metaphorical rope. “I can’t explain it!” His voice rose to meet mine as his fisted hands punched into the grass beside him. “I can’t tell you, Bree. Read between the damn lines. You shouldn’t be here, but I can’t stand the thought of you leaving. There’s not a single reason why we should spend an hour on the phone each night together, but I can’t imagine going to bed without hearing your voice. It doesn’t matter that we’ve remained platonic, or that we’ve set ground rules and have stuck by them, because no matter how you look at it, what we’re doing is still unethical. I’m your teacher. You’re my student. Our interaction should begin and end with the bell. No matter how you spin it, this is wrong. And it’s eating me alive.

“When you’re my age, starting a career in high school education, you’re warned at every turn about this. About falling for a student. About getting involved with someone in your care. You’re reminded time and time again about the laws, the legal actions that can be taken against you when it comes to minors. I knew all this going into my job. I knew this when you caught my eye on the first day of class. I reminded myself of this when I gave you my number. And again at the library. Once more when I drove you home from school. I chanted it to myself over and over again when I got out of my Jeep and walked you inside your house. But then I covered you with a blanket. I saw that look in your eyes, the one that told me you’d never had that before. It told me that I had given you something you’d cherish. And the voice in my head started to quiet down. “I made you soup. I didn’t make it for your mom, because if it were up to me, I’d tell her to make her own damn dinner. I did it for you. You needed someone to take care of you, and so I shut that voice down because I wanted to be that person for you. You deserved it. Even just for one day, just for one moment, I wanted to be the one that gave you peace. To ease some of the stress from your life. To take some of the burden off your shoulders. I never intended it to go beyond that day. I went and got you medicine, because sure, you needed it, but also because I desperately needed you to get better. I figured if you got better, you’d go back to handling things on your own, and I wouldn’t feel this overwhelming need to care for you anymore.” Tears filled my eyes, ran down my cheeks, and plummeted to my lap. The pain in his voice ran throughout my entire body, burning me from the inside out. But I was helpless to do anything about it. Shocked, stunned, completely flabbergasted over his impassioned confession, I found myself rooted to the grass, too weak to move, too overcome with emotion to speak, and too affected by his words to breathe properly. I was powerless to stop it. I had to sit there, forced into silence by my reaction to this new revelation, and endure the bashing my heart took by each and every word he spit at me. He may have sounded angry as he exposed his feelings to me, but I knew the truth. He wasn’t mad at me. His rage was directed at himself. Yet at that moment, hearing his raw pain, knowledge didn’t mean shit. It didn’t protect my heart from breaking. It didn’t stop my tears from spilling. And it didn’t prevent me from falling to pieces in front of him.

AXEL TOOK A BREATH BEFORE continuing. “I told myself after leaving your house that day that I’d done my part. I took care of you. But I found myself thinking about you. About what you said as to why you were sick. About what your mom did to you. And it ate at me. I went to work the next day, and stared hopelessly at your empty seat. I wondered what you were doing, how you were feeling, if you needed me. You consumed my every thought until I made the rash decision to go see you. I wanted to call you, but knew you didn’t have a phone, so I got you one. Yes, I wanted you to have it in case of emergencies. I wanted you to be able to reach me if you ever found yourself in another situation like you did that night after the library. But also, I wanted a way of getting ahold of you. I hated the idea of not having any way of contacting you. So, I picked up a phone and headed to your house. “You were joking when you said something about me being at your house without adult supervision… but it hit me like a ton of bricks. It made me question myself. What the hell was I doing there? I needed to leave. I should’ve been the responsible one and left. But you got sad…or something. You blamed yourself for my change in attitude, when it had nothing to do with you. I was mad at myself. But you didn’t know that, and you took it personal. I hate how your mother has managed to demolish your self-esteem. It kills me when I see that. Because you’re the smartest, most beautiful¸ fun, spirited person I’ve ever met. When you light up, you fucking shine. Your smile could bring a grown man to his knees. With as smart as you are, I have no doubt that you’ll be unstoppable once you’re unleashed. If only you’d get out of your own damn way. If only you’d stop listening to the poison your mother feeds you. I wasn’t lying when I told you that you have the spirit of a wild animal with your wolf eyes. And that’s when I ignored all logic, I blocked out the voices of reason, and I stayed. I gave you the phone, made you take it, and didn’t regret it. “Truth be told, Bree, had you not sent me a text that night, I probably would’ve called you. Luckily, I didn’t have to make that choice. But in hindsight, I should’ve ended it then, when you told me how confused you were. When you expressed concern over our relationship. I should’ve been the bigger person and ended it before it began. But I had gone to seminars and listened to lectures about keeping an upstanding reputation when dealing with students not much younger than me. I’d heard stories from other young male teachers about good-looking students hitting on them and how they had to handle it. I honestly thought I was in control. I thought that if I kept myself in check, if we followed the rules and didn’t complicate things, I’d be able to have you in my life without breaking the rules. I thought I could have my cake and eat it, too.” His eyes were so full of pain and regret, his face so wrought with despair, that if I’d seen him shed any tears, it wouldn’t have surprised me. But there were none. I had enough for the both of us. Yet that didn’t take away from his gritty emotion. Even though he hadn’t cried, I could feel his agony in his words, hear it in his voice, and see it in his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” I said through my sobs, my throat thick with the added mucus that comes from ugly crying. “What did I do wrong?” He waited a moment before answering, letting the weight of it all settle before opening his mouth. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Bree. Not one goddamn thing. I underestimated you. That was my fault. I knew you were special from the very beginning. I knew you weren’t like the other students. Hell, you aren’t even like most people my age. And that’s where I went wrong. I never anticipated that I’d enjoy your company so much. I never thought I’d need you as much as I do. It’s so fucked up because it’s only been a couple of weeks, yet here I am, torn apart by the thought of not having you in my life. The thought of going to sleep without talking to you guts me. It makes me dread the night. I never want the sun to set, because I don’t want to deal with not getting your phone call.” “Why do you have to? Why can’t I be in your life and you in mine? You’re talking like you never want to speak to me again. I don’t understand. Why can’t I call you anymore? Why do we have to stop? We haven’t done anything wrong!” He finally stood and walked to where I sat in the grass, falling to his knees in front of me. “It was only a matter of time, Bree. You snuck up on me. I didn’t realize how I felt until it was too late. I’ve tried convincing myself that I don’t care that much. That you don’t mean that much to me. But nothing works. Because you’ve already taken root in my heart. We can’t go back now. We have two choices: keep going the way we are, knowing eventually, the lines will get erased—not just blurred, but decimated. Because, let’s face it, Bree, in less than a month, I’ve already fallen for you. What’s going to happen next month? Or the month after that? How long can we go before we give into our desires and risk everything? Lose everything? We could do that, or we admit defeat and walk away now while we’re still ahead. Those are our choices.” “I don’t want to admit defeat. We haven’t been defeated.” He cupped my cheeks, wiping away the tears that covered my face with the pads of his thumbs. “But we have. This was supposed to be a friendship. An easy, uncomplicated friendship. However, that’s not what we have.” “But we can,” I begged, pleaded with him as I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, holding him to me, unwilling to let him go. “We can pretend this conversation never happened and go back to the way it was.” His eyes never left mine as he shook his head, except this time, it wasn’t out of humor like it’d been every other time before. “I can’t pretend anymore. I tried. It won’t work. You asked me a question because I had confused you. How long do you think it would take before you’re confused again?” “But I won’t be confused again, because I know the truth now.” “Okay, fine…how long before you have feelings for me? And once that happens, how do we keep ourselves from acting on it? It doesn’t matter how long we pretend that we’re only friends, because it will eventually become harder and harder for us to stay in that role. It’s impossible. We can’t talk every day, you knowing how I feel and vice versa, and not bring it up.” “You knew, didn’t you? You knew when you asked me to stay that this would be our last day together. That’s why you didn’t want me to leave. You just wanted a little bit longer with me.” I ripped his hands away from my face, ignoring the flash of anguish in his eyes. “You bastard. You’re the only friend I have. The only person in my life I have to talk to. You know that! And yet you’re taking it all away from me because you couldn’t follow your own damn rules. Why are you punishing me?”

In the midst of my fury, my hands flailed about. I pushed, hit, and slapped at Axel, wanting to hurt him in some way for the way he’d hurt me. But my punches didn’t do anything to him since my energy had been depleted by his unsolicited words. He allowed me to lash out for a moment before grabbing my arms, pulling me against his body, and restraining me. He pinned my hands between our chests with his arms wound tight around me. Even if I’d wanted to fight back, I couldn’t. The only thing I could do was lean into him and let it all go. I sobbed against his chest, my tears soaking through the cotton material. My shoulders shook uncontrollably, but he held me to him, softly rocking side to side. He didn’t speak or try to make me stop crying. He only held me, his own body quivering with grief that mirrored mine. We’d shared so many things over the span of a few weeks, but nothing as devastating as this. And knowing this was our last moments together made it that much worse. “I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want you to let me go.” “I know,” he whispered into my ear, his lips pressed against my temple. “I don’t either. If I had my way, I’d never let you go. I’d never say goodbye to you. I’d spend every day with you, growing these feelings you’ve uncovered within me. I’d embrace them instead of denying them, until they turn into the kinds of feelings that never go away. The kind that’s so deeply rooted within you that you can’t remember what it ever felt like to not have it.” “Maybe this is just infatuation and it will go away.” He dropped his forehead to my shoulder and his body shuddered against mine. His arms tightened around me, and that’s when I felt the first sign of his breakdown—moisture against my neck. He may have held it together when confessing his feelings to me, but holding me, the end approaching us as fast as the sun set, that seemed to be too much for him to bear. That seemed to be his breaking point, the moment when his strength betrayed him until he cried into me. I decided to try once more, hoping his weakness would allow him to give into my desperate pleas. “We don’t have to do this, Axel. I’m begging you, don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us. We can figure it out. I’ll be seventeen in a couple weeks. Age of consent here is seventeen. I can apply for a homeschooling program. We have so many options. We don’t need to do this.” He slowly released his hold on me, his arms going slack. Then his hands ran up my back to my shoulders, and he pressed his cheek to mine, threading his fingers into my hair. With his lips against my ear, he whispered, “We don’t have any other options. I’d give up my job before letting you waste your intelligence. And just like I know you’d never allow me to do that, I won’t allow you to ruin your future. Have faith that this won’t be forever. If it’s merely infatuation, and it goes away, I’ll be the first one on my knees, begging you for forgiveness. If it’s not, and what I feel for you is real, then the day you graduate, I’m coming for you, swearing to never hurt you again.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, held them there for what seemed like an eternity, yet it didn’t feel like long enough. Then he released me, stood, and walked away, not allowing me to see his face. He left me in his yard, crying to myself in front of his unfinished work. I’d never felt so empty before, so hollow and vacant inside. I’d endured a lot from my mom, her hateful words, dismissing glances, disappointed sneers, yet even through all that, she’d never managed to hurt me as much as Axel had in that moment. I somehow found enough strength to pull myself from the grass in order to leave. I couldn’t stay there a moment longer, knowing with each passing second, another piece of my heart fell into oblivion, never to

be found again. So I forced my feet to move one in front of the other until I managed to make it to the back yard. A few feet from the edge of his grass, I turned around, needing one more glance in his direction, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of him in a window, a shadow or even a silhouette. But I didn’t get any of that. Instead, Lassie, who hadn’t left her spot on the patio, lifted her head to watch me leave. Lassie was the shift in my tectonic plate, the movement that set my natural disaster into motion. Had I never stumbled into Axel’s back yard, then the argument over his decision to keep where he lived a secret would’ve never happened. Without that, he wouldn’t have hinted at his feelings for me, which means I would’ve never questioned him. Then he’d have no reason to confess how he felt about me, forcing him to end our relationship, taking away my only friend in this world. Because of a dog, the life I’d grown to love would never be the same. My foundation cracked, swallowing me whole without a chance for survival. Rejection burned within my chest, decimating my insides until there was nothing left behind but ashes, leaving a black hole where my heart once was. Grief swarmed me, drowning me in a tidal wave of despair. My life had been turned into a state of emergency. It was unpredictable, unexplainable, and in order to rebuild, I’d need to rely on the help of others. Considering the only person I could count on was responsible for the destruction in the first place, all hope of coming out of this on the other side died out. Slowly dragging myself foward, shuffling my way through the darkened canopy trees, I managed to make it home. When I’d first stepped into the wooded area from Axel’s house, grief and tears consumed me. Confusion whirled within my mind, and hopelessness drowned me. But by the time I made my way out, stumbling into my own back yard, something had changed. Maybe it was the anger that returned, or the defiance that stoned me. Whatever it was, I became determined to not let Axel Taylor bring me down. He would not be the end of me. I’d give him his space, let him see what a mistake he’d made, and when he came crawling back, begging for my friendship again, I’d be the one to turn him down. That mentality lasted until I made it to my bed. Curled beneath the warmth of my covers, reality smothered me. As much as I wanted to convince myself that I’d turn him away, I knew undoubtedly that it would never happen.

I’d spent Sunday moping around the house, allowing one day of mourning before pulling myself together in time for school. I didn’t want Axel to see my devastation. He’d seen it in his back yard, but I refused to allow him the chance to see just how much he’d destroyed me. He hated my mom for what she’d done. Yet he was no better. Mom had been quiet all day, so the time dragged on at a snail’s pace. I couldn’t wait any longer for bedtime, and headed up to my room at eight. Sleep didn’t come easy, and I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before finally giving in to the darkness. I was torn Monday morning. I didn’t want to see him, but at the same time, I wanted to at least pretend I’d been unaffected by him. So after hesitating in the hallway for a few minutes, I made my way into the classroom. I made it all of two steps before my knees nearly buckled. He wasn’t at his desk like he’d

been every day before that. Instead, he stood at his podium, his head down as he intently studied something in front of him. I shook it off and headed to my seat. The first wave of tears threatened to spill once I made it to my desk. On top sat my book, the one I hadn’t even realized I’d left over at his house. With all the chaos and commotion of that day, and the grief that had attacked me the day after, I never once thought about that damn book. But there it was, right in front of me, a stark reminder of where it’d been, why it was left behind, and how real this whole thing was. I couldn’t pretend it’d been a dream, any of it. Because I had the evidence in front of me, reminding me that no matter how hard I try to shove things down…burn and then bury them…they’ll never truly go away. Pretending my mom didn’t hate me wouldn’t make her love me. Forgetting my relationship with Axel wouldn’t automatically mend my heart. And lying about my feelings for the only friend I ever had wouldn’t bring him back. I glanced up at him and caught his eyes as he watched me. But the contact only lasted for a split second before he lowered his head again. I quickly stuffed the book in my backpack and got ready for class, ignoring everything going on around me. Ignoring everything going on within me. “That’s surprising,” I heard Jill say as she sat down. “Mr. Taylor is usually at his desk, chatting away with you before class. Now he’s in the front of the room. What happened, did you two have a lover’s spat?” I jerked my head up once I realized she’d been talking to me and not Rebecca. I found them both eyeing me with interest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s our teacher. Maybe he’s preparing for class.” I hoped to God that I sounded as nonchalant as I should. They exchanged glances before turning back to me with devious grins on their faces. “Stop pretending. It’s so obvious you two have a thing. Don’t worry, we won’t judge you. To be honest, we didn’t think you had it in you to fuck a teacher.” My hands shook from the adrenaline Jill’s words sent through me. “We don’t have a thing. He’s our teacher. He’s older than me, and I’m still a minor. And you’re right, I don’t have it in me to fuck a teacher, because it’s wrong. It’s unethical and immoral. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking like that. I’m sure Mr. Taylor wouldn’t like it if he knew you two were starting rumors that could end his career.” Both girls giggled and turned around, whispering amongst themselves. I didn’t have to hear their words to know what they said. They didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t blame them. They were right. Every morning before class, Axel sat at his desk and we talked. Anyone walking into the classroom could see that. Even I noticed that the smile he gave me was different than the ones he offered to everyone else. We did have a thing, it just wasn’t what they assumed. Which, more than likely, if anyone gave it much thought, they’d probably come to the same conclusions Jill and Rebecca did. I guess it was a good thing that we ended things when we did. It wouldn’t have been long before people started talking, and that would make the rest of the school year difficult on both of us. More so for Axel, though. I’m sure having something like that going around would be damaging for his reputation. That realization was enough to calm my aching heart. But then class started, and instead of my chest tightening over the loss of Axel like I’d anticipated, it tensed for him. He was so angry, cold and distant. As he taught from his podium, he lacked all the enthusiasm he once had for teaching. His patience seemed to have evaporated, yelling at the class for things they’ve always gotten away with before. His eyes were dull, no longer shining like beacons of blue

light. His shoulders sagged and his tie wasn’t even on straight. Just looking at the man, it was obvious he was in pain. I wanted to make it better for him, but I knew there was no way I could. I wasn’t the one who’d made this decision. He was. He’d cut things off with me, turned his back and walked away, leaving me crying and alone. I’d begged him to change his mind, yet he didn’t. So why was he standing there, looking like a man who had lost everything? He didn’t lose shit. He gave it all up, let it effortlessly slip through his fingers. You can’t have sympathy for people like that. The ones that throw everything away and then regret it. But did he regret it? Or was this just the fallout? I needed to believe that he’d turn around and change his mind. I desperately yearned to hear him say that he’d made a mistake and had to have me in his life anyway he could have me. But the longer class drug on, and the more time that passed without a single glance my way, or even a simple acknowledgment of my existence, the more my hope dissipated. Although, it did serve a purpose. Everything that had happened on Saturday, all the pain and anguish that I’d spilt on Sunday, and the silent slap in the face he’d given to me on Monday made me realize something. Axel had come clean about his feeling for me. He’d confessed and told the truth about how, to him, we weren’t just friends, that he’d fallen for me. I’d maintained what I’d always said—to myself and to him. We were friends, nothing more. I didn’t have a crush on him, because that would be absurd. I didn’t care for him any more than, say, Jill cared for Rebecca. I’d told myself that so many times at the beginning until I’d eventually believed it. I had somehow convinced myself, and apparently Axel as well, that I had no romantic interest in him. But it’d all been a lie. How cruel is the universe that I’d fall for someone, for the first time in my life, only to have it ripped away before I ever had a chance to realize my own feelings? Axel was lucky. He had me for however long, knowing how he felt about me, enjoying what little time he had with that small piece of information. Me? I was delusional. I’d fallen for a man, only to realize it too late.

THEY SAY EVERYTHING GETS BETTER with time. Wine supposedly is better after it matures, hearts are supposed to heal with distance, and for some reason, people enjoy aged cheese. However, I find this all to be utter crap. I’m sure my mom could get just as drunk on ten-year-old wine as she did on the cheap boxed stuff she bought. The only difference was, she’d have less money. Distance will never heal a heart. Some doctors can’t even perform this kind of miracle. Give it time? How does that make sense? Every day that passes, you’re one day closer to the end of your life. That doesn’t seem to make anything better. And as for aged cheese? I think it’s a gimmick like Hallmark, except it’s aimed for the rich instead of lovesick fools. Somehow, people with money have been convinced that it’s a good idea to spend more on old cheese to spread on stale crackers while mingling and discussing how wealthy they are. Give me a Ritz and a slice of Kraft Singles and I’ll tell them where to shove their checkbooks. Am I bitter? Hell yes, I am. Every morning, I have to see the man that ripped my heart out. I have to listen to him drone on and on about dead people and our founding principles that no longer seemed to matter, all while being expected to pay attention. If his attitude was anything to go on, I’d bet time wasn’t on his side, either. He appeared just as disheveled, acted just as sad, and sounded—if at all possible— even more distraught than he had two weeks earlier on that very first day back to school after our “break up.” It was obvious that his suffering hadn’t let up. And I knew without a doubt that mine hadn’t eased an ounce. Yet there wasn’t anything either of us could do about it. His mind had been made up. His decision practically etched in stone. But one thing time did manage to accomplish was shutting Rebecca and Jill up. Their snide comments and muttered assumptions had finally stopped. Took them about a week, but thankfully, it had ended. The very last thing I wanted to happen was for Axel to get into trouble for befriending me in the first place. We had enough to deal with regarding that decision. He didn’t deserve more. It’d been fifteen days since he’d last spoken to me, and those final words weren’t ones I wanted to carry around with me. He hadn’t uttered a word in my general direction since leaving me alone in his back yard. I didn’t exactly make it hard for him. When he’d ask a question in class, whether I knew the answer or not, I never raised my hand. It would’ve been pointless to, because he only ever called on people that sat on the opposite side of the room as me. I guess that made it easier not to look my way. I was fine with it, because most of the time, I kept my head down and took notes anyway, not bothering to

turn my attention to the front of the class. Every morning when I’d come in, he’d be at the chalkboard, or his podium. In fact, he never sat at his desk during class anymore. Even during a test, he remained up front. At the beginning, it killed me to be that far away from him. But over the last two weeks, I’d discovered that it was easier for me that way. Being too close to him, such as the times I had to walk past him before and after class, made it hurt worse. A dulled knife straight to my heart would’ve hurt less than smelling his cologne. And I’d probably freeze to death if I had to be in such close proximity to his icy-cold attitude for longer than two seconds each day. But that still didn’t mean I believed in distance making things better. Did it make it easier to have the width of the room between us every morning? Yes. It saved my sanity. However, it didn’t heal anything. It didn’t succeed in making anything better. Only slightly easier. Yet there were still days when I found myself yearning to be close to him, the space between us becoming too much, too hard. My heart ached either way. I’d never been in a real relationship before—the only one I could even remotely consider as one was Axel for those few weeks. And even then, I never considered it a real relationship until it was over. So I’d never experienced Valentine’s Day the way other people did. To me, it was no different than February thirteenth, or even the fifteenth. Just another day. But for some reason, this Valentine’s Day, I felt as if I’d missed something. It was on a Saturday, which saved me from having to see Axel at school, but I still found myself wishing for a small glimpse of him. I’d gone out back and waited in the trees for hours, hoping Lassie would show up and haul me away to her owner again. But she never came. When I went to bed that night, I held onto the phone he’d given to me, as if it were a life preserver saving me from a rip current, praying with all my might for it to ring or beep with a message from him. With every day that passed, I lost more and more hope that he’d change his mind. But for some naïve reason, I had it in my head that if he’d reach out to me, it would be that day. The one day set aside, designated to show someone that you care. He said he cared. So where was he? I finally fell asleep, clutching the phone to my chest, my face buried into my wet pillow as I cried alone. The first week of his silence, I’d cried myself to sleep every night. But after that, I may have tossed and turned, stared at the shadows on my ceiling, or closed my eyes and thought back to the time before the rug had been ripped out from beneath me, but I hadn’t cried. Reverting back to the flood of tears after days of dry eyes and hardened emotions seemed like regression. I blamed it on the fat baby that shot me in the heart with his stupid arrow. Waking up the next morning sucked. My dad used to wake me up the day after Valentine’s Day with a cupcake when I was little. He’d come in and I’d pretend to be asleep until he started singing Happy Birthday to me. The last year he did it was for my sixth birthday. I’d accidentally dropped the cupcake and the red icing stained the carpet. Mom put an end to our birthday morning celebrations. Two years later, instead of waking up to a song, I woke up to the sounds of glass breaking. I never knew what their fight had been about, but whatever it was had my dad in a bad mood for the rest of the day. I only had three more birthdays with him after that one. And each one grew more depressing than the last. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I’d actually looked forward to my birthday this year —until Axel shattered my heart. The thought of sharing my day with someone I cared about had excited me. Which is why waking up this morning sucked even worse than normal. Had I never been ecstatic

about it, or remotely looked forward to it, I wouldn’t have been so let down. And I’d worked hard over the years to lessen my expectations in order to protect myself from being disappointed. After forcing myself out of bed and putting clothes on, I made my way downstairs. My mom sat at the kitchen table with her cup of coffee and the newspaper. Much like any other morning when we were both home at the same time, I walked around her on my way to the fridge for a glass of juice, paying her no mind at all. Only this time, she lowered the paper and spoke to me. I had to question myself if I’d actually woken up or not. “Do you have any plans for your birthday today?” I slowly spun around, verifying that it was, in fact, my mother sitting there and not some nice imposter. “Um…no. Why?” “Oh, I was just wondering,” she said, waving her hand as if brushing off my concern over my mom being nice to me. “It’s almost eleven. When the phone rings, make sure you answer it. If you don’t, it’ll go to voicemail. I have no desire to talk to your father.” “I know, Mom. His phone calls on my birthday have been consistent for the past five years. This year should be no different. But I’ll make sure to answer it on the first ring.” “His gift hasn’t arrived yet. It’ll probably come Tuesday because of the holiday tomorrow.” She picked the paper back up and began scanning it again. I couldn’t do anything other than stand in the middle of the kitchen and gawk at her. I would’ve questioned her motives for breaking the silent treatment she’d given me over the past five weeks, but I didn’t dare give her a reason to either go back to ignoring me, or worse, back to treating me like shit. I opened the freezer door once I got over the shock of my morning conversation. “What do you feel like for dinner?” I asked, scanning over the frozen meats we had on the shelf. “Pick whatever you want, it’s your birthday,” she said through the paper, not bothering to lower it in order to answer me. At least she hadn’t changed that much. I pulled out hamburger meat and set it aside to thaw. But before any other idle chitchat could begin, the phone rang. My mom set the paper down, pushed her chair away from the table, and grabbed her mug before walking out of the room. She apparently hated my father so much that she couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as his voice over a phone. “Hello?” I answered, already knowing it was my dad. “Happy birthday, Aubs.” He was the only one who ever called me that. Mom hated it. She said it made me sound like a dog. But it was special to me, because no one else used it. I grabbed a blanket off the couch and took the phone outside to the chair on the front porch. “Thanks, Dad,” I said in the most unenthusiastic voice known to man. “Doing anything fun today? It’s the weekend, and you don’t have school tomorrow, right?” I hated his small talk. It was like he refused to accept my pathetic life and used it to make him feel better about his decisions. If you talk about nothing important, then you don’t have to deal with anything real. “No, Dad. Nothing fun. That would require friends, or a life outside my house. Even if I wanted to do something fun, and I was okay with being completely alone doing it, I can’t. Because I don’t have a car.” The other end of the line became quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Aubrey…I don’t know what you want me to say. We don’t get to talk that often, and it’s your birthday. I don’t want to waste this time discussing your mother.”

“Okay, fine, Dad. Let’s not discuss her.” I never spoke to my father that way, usually keeping our conversations light and free of attitude. But something in me was broken, aside from my heart. After Axel destroyed me, I couldn’t seem to find my inner happiness again. That voice within me that kept me going day in and day out. It’s what kept me sane when everything around me became suffocating and hard. Some might call it optimism. I simply referred to it as my body’s own source of Prozac. Whatever it was, I didn’t have it anymore. “Let’s discuss you instead. You say we never get much time to talk, as if you’re in jail and only allotted a certain amount of time to call me. But that’s not the case, is it? You were relieved of your sentence when you left here. I’m the one in prison. I’m the one suffering while you’re in your new house with your new family, sitting pretty and getting high on life. Guess what, Dad? You know if I’m not at school, then I’m at home. You know the phone number. You can call anytime you want. But you choose not to. It’s okay if you don’t have time for me, or you don’t want me in your life anymore. Just tell me. Stop dragging this on longer than it needs to be.” “Aubrey. Please stop.” His voice sounded broken as he begged me to quit talking. I’d never heard him sound like that before, and it halted my emotional lecture. “You are my daughter. It doesn’t matter who I’m married to or how many other children she has. You’re the only one that matters to me. I’m sorry if I have a hard time showing it, or that I’ve made you feel, even for a second, that I don’t want you.” “What else am I supposed to think? You packed up your things and disappeared. You left me here. You know how she is, what she’s capable of, and yet you left me here to deal with it all by myself. At eleven years old. You never even came back. I haven’t seen you in five years. You call once a month and we talk for maybe fifteen minutes each time, never about anything important. So, I’m sorry if I don’t believe you when you say I’m the only thing that matters to you. Because if that’s the truth, then I’d hate to see how you treat your new family.” I must’ve cried out all my tears the night before, because not one drop formed. Maybe it was because I’d had that speech bottled up for so long that instead of the words causing me pain, I only felt anger. His heavy breathing came through the line, and I could tell I’d gotten to him. But I continued to wait until he gave me some kind of response, not letting him off the hook that easily. “I…” He cleared his throat again, sounding as if his emotions choked him. “I didn’t have a choice, Aubrey.” I waited, and waited some more, but he never said anything else. His silence only served to fuel my irritation. “That’s the biggest cop-out I’ve ever heard. You know what? I can’t do this. It’s becoming abundantly clear that I’m incapable of having a relationship with anyone. And maybe that’s because of you and Mom. Maybe if I had normal parents, ones that loved me, things would be different. But it doesn’t matter. Have a nice life, Dad. I guess I’ll—” “Aubrey Ann Jacobs, don’t you dare hang up that phone.” My mouth immediately fell open at his tone, never hearing him use it with me before. But it served its purpose, making me stop talking and listen. Once he knew he had my attention, and I hadn’t hung up on him, he continued. “I really didn’t have a choice when it came to me leaving. Yes, I was ready to leave your mother. I’d wanted to leave her years before that, but was unable to. When I finally did move out, it was basically her call. There are a lot of things involved that you don’t know about. But I’m not lying when I say I didn’t have a choice. My hands were tied with everything. You. The house. The money. Everything.” “Why haven’t you ever told me?”

“You were a child at the time. And now…now I guess I simply don’t want you to have a lesser opinion of me.” “Dad, you have zero interest in my life. You haven’t been here for me in over five years, and your monthly phone calls don’t even begin to make up for anything. Are you that delusional to think it possible for me to have a lesser opinion of you than I already do?” “Your mother really has never said anything to you about me?” “Well, let’s see here. Our conversations typically involve her telling me how my grades aren’t good enough, how I’ve folded the sheets wrong, that I’ve over-salted the mashed potatoes or under-salted the broccoli. When she has talked about you, it’s to tell me how I’m worthless like my father, or that she can’t stand the sight of me because I remind her of the worst mistake of her life. I’m still not sure if that’s because I look like you, or if she’s referring to actually having me. Maybe the worst mistake of her life was having sex with you in the first place. I don’t know, but either way, I’m sure it’s still a jab at you. If you’re referring to what she says about why you left, she’s had a lot of colorful things to say about that, too, but they’re all pretty much the same. It was my fault. You never wanted me to begin with. You stayed out of obligation, but just couldn’t do it anymore. You get the drift.” “I see she hasn’t changed much. I’m sorry you have to deal with her. I tried to take you with me. I wanted to get us both out of there, but she wouldn’t let me. God, I’ve tried so many times, Aubrey. But it was always the same. I didn’t have a job, and I never finished college. In order to leave, I’d need money. And without her, I didn’t have any.” He paused, and I waited breathlessly for him to continue. “I…uh… I cheated on her a lot. It’s no secret that we were both in a loveless marriage. Why she wanted to hold on to that, I’ll never know. So, to fulfill my needs, I went elsewhere. When she found out, I thought it’d been a blessing in disguise. I thought she’d leave me. But instead of getting pissed like any normal person would do when finding out their husband is having an affair, she used that information against me. “At the time, I was actively seeing someone. Your mother found out who it was, and threatened to take legal action against her. She couldn’t, of course, do that, but it was enough to scare her off. Your mother still wouldn’t let me go, though. She always found out about the women I slept with, and at some point, I stopped caring. She wouldn’t give me a divorce, and said if I tried, she’d bring up my infidelity and I’d get nothing. Without money, I didn’t have a place to go, therefore, I wouldn’t be able to take you with me. So I stayed.” “I don’t get it, Dad. It was no secret that you and Mom hated each other. And I don’t blame you at all for cheating on her, but guess what? People cheat. If every adulterous husband had to walk away from their kids, no one would have fathers.” “I did something stupid after that, Aubrey. It wasn’t about my infidelity. She constantly held over my head that she had control of the money. Without her, I wouldn’t have any. She knew where every penny went, so I couldn’t even put some aside to save. I’d reached my breaking point, not thinking about the consequences, only my need to hurt her. So, I took some money, knowing she’d find out and…I spent it. She used it against me, gave me the divorce, but made me agree to her terms.” “Because you spent her money?” Something didn’t add up. “It was what I spent the money on.” “What…did you buy drugs or something?” He let out a frustrated breath of air, and I thought for a moment he wouldn’t answer me, but then he did. “I spent it on a prostitute—a high-priced call girl. Your mother found out, like I knew she would, but

instead of getting pissed about it, she used it against me. I was stupid and blinded by rage, so I never even considered the lengths she’d take to get back at me. And the only reason why she divorced me was because of her reputation. She didn’t want it to be tarnished by having a husband that paid for escorts.” “Whatever, Dad. You made a dumb call. People do lots of things out of anger and desperation. Do I think it’s disgusting that you’d pay for sex? Yes. But I also see why you did it. Status and reputation consumes her motives. I get the need to hit her where it counts. But what I don’t get is why she wouldn’t let you take me with you? She hates me. She tells me all the time in subtle ways. Why would she want me here?” “You just said it, Aubrey. Status and reputation fuel her every decision. How do you think it would seem if I got custody of you in the divorce? Mothers always get the kids. It would make her look bad if you came with me.” “Okay, so that means you can’t come see me, either? Or call more than once a month?” “Yes, and sort of,” he answered with an exhausted tone. “Moving out of the house wasn’t good enough for her. I had to move out of the county, out of her jurisdiction so my choices and lifestyle wouldn’t negatively impact her. I also wasn’t allowed to come near you—per her orders, not the court’s. She told me that if I came back to town, she’d find a way to have charges drawn up against me for solicitation of sex. I figured I’d go along with her terms until you were old enough to know the truth.” “And when would that have been? When I’m thirty?” I argued back, the sense of betrayal burning hot on my tongue. “No. I wanted to tell you last year, but I chickened out. What was I supposed to say? I’m already a failure in your eyes. Why make it worse? I hate the distance and time that separates us, and talking to you on the phone makes it worse. I’m a mess when I get off the phone with you, Aubs. A mess. I get in this funk that takes sometimes a week to get out of. And that’s just from a fifteen-minute conversation about nothing.” My anger began to subside, and in its place, I found sympathy and surrender. My life had been made up of a series of bad decisions, starting with my parents’ neglect of proper birth control. My dad’s decision to marry my mom, even knowing how it would turn out, might have been noble, but it certainly wasn’t smart. He dropped out of school and ignored the giant crystal ball that told him his marriage would never last, all of which practically sealed his fate. Instead of letting him go and joining the ranks of many other successful, divorced, working women, she tightened the leash, knowing that at some point in time, he’d react. And he did. All those decisions were out of my control, yet they directly impacted me to this day. It’s one thing to pave your own way, carve out your own destiny, but it’s something completely different when the actions of others determine your outcome. My mother has only ever been able to see one thing—her reputation. And when backed into a corner, my father only saw one thing—revenge. Not once during any of that time did either of them see me. It became clear once again that I’d be the only one to ever look out for myself. I couldn’t rely on others, I couldn’t depend on anyone. Just me. But I’d be okay. I was a survivor, I’d managed to overcome so much already. Some things might be harder to conquer than others, some pain might take longer to heal, but in the end, I knew I’d survive. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate your honesty, and thank you for the birthday wishes. But I really think I need to go now.”

“Aubrey, you’re probably mad at me, and blame me for all this, and I don’t discredit those feelings at all. But please, do what you need to do in order to work through this—just don’t cut me out. Don’t dismiss me. Hearing your voice for fifteen minutes once a month isn’t much. I barely survive that, and I don’t think I can handle less. I know you don’t owe me anything, but please know that I love you. You’re honestly the best part of my life. I may not show that to you, and I’ve failed at keeping you safe, but it’s the truth.” If there was a way to feel another person’s heart breaking inside of your own chest, I felt it at that moment. “I know, Dad. I love you, too. She can’t control us forever.” He released a shaky sigh before saying goodbye, wishing me a happy birthday once more, and then he hung up the phone. I couldn’t move from my spot on the porch for a while, needing time to pull myself together. A lot of information, emotions, and guilt had been dropped in my lap, and I needed time to sort through them alone. I’d never be able to go to my mother and confront her with any of this. It would do no good. In fact, it would probably cause unnecessary harm. So I needed to work through my thoughts, sort out my feelings, and lay it all to rest before heading back inside. If only dealing with my emotions regarding Axel could be that easy.

“WHAT DID YOU DECIDE FOR dinner?” my mom asked as soon as I came back inside. She stood in the kitchen with her mug of coffee, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been standing there, or if she’d overheard my conversation with my dad. “Meatloaf. It’s easy and one of my favorites.” I’d say I had tried to act normal around her, but there was no such thing. We’d gone over a month barely saying two words to each other, and then it was as if she decided to suddenly gift me with her kindness on my birthday. But now I knew so much more than I ever had about her, my dad, and their relationship. I wasn’t sure how to react to her now that her skeletons had been unveiled. I had just always assumed that my father had abandoned me because he didn’t care enough about me to remain in my life. Now I’d been hit with the news that he did care and had thought about me all these years. My mom had managed to assert the same control over him as she did over me. We were both prisoners in the hell my mom had created. “Oh, that sounds good. Want me to make the glaze?” She immediately began to root through the cabinets for a bowl before pulling the ingredients from the fridge. After watching her silently for a moment or two, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Mom, this isn’t meant to be mean, but I have to ask…” I leaned my back against the counter so I could see her reaction. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Her hands stilled around the spoon she’d grabbed to stir the glaze. “It’s your birthday, Bree,” she said as if her answer was a given and my question had been absurd. I wanted to back down, leave it at that. Arguing would never solve anything, especially with her. But everything I’d been through over the last two weeks, all the emotional turmoil, I couldn’t find the strength needed to drop it. “Yes, you’re right, Mom, it is. However, this isn’t the first one. I’ve had sixteen others. You’ve never been like this for any of those.” I steadied my narrowed gaze at her, almost daring her to answer. She huffed and then bit her lip. When her eyes settled on mine, she said, “I know. I guess realizing next year you’re going to be an adult has gotten to me. In one year from today, you won’t be my child anymore.” A thought came to me that I should check her coffee, wondering if she’d added something extra to it. “Huh? I’m rather certain that no matter how old I am, I’ll still be your kid. It’s not like we reach a certain point and then no longer have parents.” “That’s not what I mean.” But she never finished her thought. She never told me what she meant. Just dropped the conversation and went back to making the glaze for my meatloaf.

But I didn’t need to hear her tell me what she’d meant by it, because I already knew. It had nothing to do with not being her child anymore, and everything to do with her loss of control over me. She was a lawyer, and knew all too well that once I became a legal adult, I would be free to leave. She may have controlled my father and manipulated him, but she couldn’t do that with me. I didn’t need money to leave. I could apply to colleges, take out loans, and simply walk away. She had a marriage license and a bank account to keep my dad on a leash all those years…those didn’t pertain to me. That’s what she meant by losing her child in a year. She’d lose her control. Without another word, I left the room. I grabbed a book from my room, the blanket from earlier, and went into the trees for some privacy. I needed space from everyone and everything. I wished I could’ve called Axel and talked to him about my dad’s phone call or my mom’s behavior, but I couldn’t. I had to learn how to deal with things all on my own again, much like I had before I met him. It made me laugh at the irony. I’d gone through life for almost seventeen years without anyone to lean on, and then I had him for less than a month. Somehow, in that short span of time, I’d become reliant on another person. Axel had become my habit, and I had to learn to break it, cold turkey. I ended up spending hours outside, doing nothing but reading and keeping my mind occupied. I let myself get swept away in my book, forgetting reality and living within the pages of fiction. It was exactly what I needed, because by the time I finished, I found that I’d calmed down. It was almost five in the evening before I pulled myself away from my forest and headed inside to start dinner. My mom was nowhere to be found when I walked through the back door, but I didn’t dare go search for her. She’d left the bowl of glaze in the fridge for me, and it made me think. It shouldn’t matter how selfish or twisted her reason was for the change in her attitude. All that mattered was that she had, in fact, changed her attitude toward me. I had a little over a year left in this house with her, and nothing would make that easier than to have her kindness—phony or not. So as I made dinner, I found myself actually looking forward to sharing it with her. We’d gone from sitting around the table discussing my faults to not discussing anything at all. Awkward silence. And the thought of possibly having a normal conversation, a nice meal, and—if I were lucky—laughter made me excited. After the timer on the oven sounded, I plated our meals and took them to the kitchen table, sitting in my seat to wait for her. I’d heard her bedroom door open and knew she’d be down soon. What I hadn’t expected was to find her coming downstairs dressed to go out. “Where are you going?” I asked in shock. “Some of the women from the office are meeting up for dinner.” “But I thought we were eating meatloaf.” She paused after pulling her coat on and stared at me. “Oh, no. I told you to make whatever you wanted because I wouldn’t be here. Just wrap it up and put it in the fridge. I’ll eat it tomorrow.” I don’t know why I was surprised. Or why I felt pity for myself. But at that moment, it seemed as though I’d left my body and witnessed the exchange the way a stranger would. And as I watched myself, sitting alone at the kitchen table, two plates of food and an empty chair around me, my heart broke. It shattered for the young child within that had allowed herself to get her hopes up. The little girl that, against better judgment, looked forward to sharing her birthday dinner with her mother. I watched my shoulders slump, my head dip forward, and then the first drop of tears fell to my lap. But I shouldn’t have felt bad for myself. I should’ve known better, expected it even. I shouldn’t have

allowed myself to hope that things would change. Realizing that, I pushed away from the table and dried my eyes. I put the food away, not even bothering to eat any of it. My mom had left me to eat my own birthday dinner—one I had to make myself—alone. So, I would celebrate on my own as well. I pulled out a cup from the cabinet and opened the door to the fridge, not even bothering to take the box of wine out before pulling on the tab and filling my glass. I didn’t put too much thought into my decision. But I knew it wasn’t for attention since no one was around, and it wasn’t even because I liked the taste of wine because I’d never had it before. I only wanted the pain to stop. I wanted the insecurities to go away and for the resentment to settle. I didn’t want to cry, I didn’t want to think about how everything had been flipped upside down, and I didn’t want to dwell. I simply wanted my mind to go blank. So I took my large glass of wine that sent a shiver through me with every sip and sat on the couch. I watched whatever was on the television, not paying much attention to it, and drank. I poured myself a little more after enjoying the tingles it gave me, appreciating the way my head grew fuzzy instead of heavy. I loved how it put a smile on my face and caused me to find everything on TV amusing. It was like magic. But before I finished my glass, I became hot. My skin burned and I couldn’t seem to cool down enough. I went to the front porch, hoping if I sat in the chair outside long enough, the chilly weather would tame the heat that radiated beneath my skin. Only, I didn’t get a chance to sit down. Something was in my seat. The sky was dark and my porch light remained off, but with the streetlamps and the moon in the sky, I could see the wrapped present vividly. It was small and thin, and when I picked up the silver package, it was light in my hand. I hesitated before opening it, not sure who it was from, but curiosity got the best of me and it didn’t take long before I ripped off the paper. I didn’t need a tag or a card to know who’d given it to me. The gift alone was enough of an indication. In my hand, I held a Guns N’ Roses CD. Their greatest hits. Axel had told me plenty of times that I should listen to them because he thought I’d like their songs, and I’d told him every time that I would. But I never did. And then after that afternoon in his yard, I decided I’d never listen to them. Rage filled me and caused my hands to shake. No words had been spoken, not one glance had been shared, or even a single message received, yet he comes to my house and leaves me something so personal. The nerve of him. Between the blur of fury and the haze of the wine, I ran back inside, shoved my feet into a pair of shoes, and stormed out the back door. I didn’t waste my time grabbing a coat, or even contemplating the option of calling him. All I wanted to do was release this hatred I had inside…at Axel. I’m not sure how I knew which house was his through the thicket of trees. I’d only ever been there once, and that had been during the daytime. Now, with the sun gone, the backs of the houses were dark, and they all seemed to look the same to me. But with his CD in my grasp, my feet carried me through the dead leaves, past the line of trees, and to his back yard as if they just knew where to go. I could see lights on inside through the windows, but the blinds were closed, so I had no idea which rooms they were for. I reached down at the edge of the tree line and picked up whatever I could find, which happened to be large twigs and small, thin branches. I gathered as much as I could in my arms and proceeded toward his house. Without taking aim or caring what I hit, I started to throw whatever I had at his windows. The anger inside blazed hotter with every twig that left my hand, the enraged words that

flew out of my mouth grew louder every time a small branch smacked against a pane of glass. I was lost in my rage by the time his sliding glass door opened and he stepped out into the night. “Aubrey, what in the hell are you doing?” His question was stern, his voice hard and deep, but the level of his tone came out more like growling than yelling. I dropped the pieces of brush I’d picked up, but never let go of the plastic case in my hand. My fingers clutched it in a death grip, the last piece of him he’d given me, and although I wanted to smash it, destroy it the way he’d destroyed me, I couldn’t find it within me to let it go. “You’re an asshole, Axel! You’re a heartless bastard. I hate you! I wish I’d never met you, that I never let you in.” My breath caught and I choked on my words, making me sound as though I was on the verge of breaking down. And maybe I was, maybe the emotions had finally become too much to bear. But not once did my eyes burn with tears nor my body rack with sobs. Instead, my shoulders remained squared, my spine stayed straight, and I kept my knees locked. “I get it…you’re mad at me for what I did.” “No,” I said, taking a step toward him. “I’m not mad at that. I was hurt by it. And no matter how much it devastated me, beneath it all, I understood. I’m not stupid, Axel. I know the consequences our relationship held. And even though your silence for the last two weeks has gutted me, turned me inside out and flipped me upside down, changed who I am as person…I understand why it has to be this way. That’s not what this is about. I’m not here because you broke my heart. I’m here because now you’re just fucking with it. Like you’re taking the shattered, damaged pieces, and playing with them. That’s what pisses me off. That’s what makes me hate you.” Axel closed the distance between us with two steps. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve made sure to not talk to you, to keep my distance, even in class when I’m supposed to communicate with all my students. You think that’s been easy for me? Do you really think it hasn’t flipped my world upside down to ignore you and fight off every urge to call you? I’m exhausted, Aubrey. Physically and emotionally drained from having to fight against everything I want.” “So what? You gave in and decided to fuck with my head?” “Again, Bree, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I slammed the CD against his chest as hard as I could, packing every ounce of strength behind that punch. “This, you fucking idiot! You can’t look at me in class, sit near me, send me a fucking text message to wish me a happy birthday, but you can come to my house and leave this for me? Is this some way to ensure I won’t get over you? To make sure you stay in my head?” His hands covered mine, holding the plastic case against him. Then he pulled his eyes from where we touched, lifted them to my face, and exhaled with a shaky breath. “That’s not why. I bought this CD before everything happened. I wanted to give it to you today. And then…” “And then you broke my heart,” I said, finishing his sentence for him. “And then I broke my own heart, Bree.” His tone grew stern and harsh again before he paused and visibly calmed down. “But yes, then that happened. I wasn’t going to give it to you because I didn’t want to complicate things more so than they already are. But I couldn’t keep it. You deserved to get something on your birthday, to know that you were thought of. Even if I shouldn’t think of you, you need to know that you’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.” I pushed his chest and pulled my hands away, finally releasing the CD. He stumbled back a step, but never let the case fall. I wanted to keep pushing him, to release all my anger on him, but I couldn’t do

anything other than stand there and hold his gaze across the dark space that separated us. “You have a hell of a way to show it.” “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll take it back.” “No!” I rushed him, frantically grabbing at his hands. “No! Don’t take it back. That’s not what I want.” “Then what do you want, Aubrey?” He raised his voice and lowered his face to mine. His warm breath skimming across my cheeks made me realize how cool the night was. He shook my hands away and grabbed my biceps, his heated palms made me notice the chill on my arms through my thin sleeves. “I want to rewind time. I want to go back to January fifth before school started,” I whispered, the weight of it all suddenly crushing my chest. “Why that day?” “Because instead of sitting in my seat, I’d sit on the other side of the room. And then I’d make sure I didn’t go to school for a few days after that until the side of my face healed. If I could just change those two things, I wouldn’t feel this way right now.” He must’ve understood what I meant, because he dropped his hand, reached down to pick up the discarded present, and backed up a few steps. “I don’t. I wouldn’t change a thing. Even knowing the outcome, I wouldn’t go back in time and do a damn thing different. Bree, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. I’d rather endure this pain with the memory of you, than to feel nothing at all.” “And how would you feel if I told you that this pain you speak of, the same pain that you believe is all worth it…what if I told you that it killed the person you knew? The one you say is the best person you’ve ever known…how would you feel knowing she’s gone?” The darkness only intensified his silence, causing the shadow of his form to shrink, the air to turn colder, and the pieces of my broken heart to scatter in the breeze surrounding us. “I ruined you?” he asked with such a soft yet strained voice it threatened my resolve. “You broke me. I’ve never claimed to be a strong person. I’m well aware of who I am—who I was. I’ve survived a lot of things. I’ve picked up the pieces of my life more times than I can count. I’ve dried my eyes on my own shirt and taught myself how to keep going. But even a brick wall can only be beaten on so many times before it crumbles. I was weak when I met you, Axel. Capable of carrying on, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but I was so damn weak. You offered support when I needed it the most. You were my cup of cold water in the last leg of a marathon. My lungful of fresh air during the homestretch of a swim meet. I would’ve made it to the finish line without you, but you helped make it easier on me. You didn’t enable me, you weren’t my crutch, and you certainly weren’t my savior. You were my companion. A shoulder to lean on, an ear that would listen, and a hand to hold.” I had to pause to catch my breath, the cold weather suddenly running through me until my lungs became the size of peas. Axel remained stiff, unmoving in the shadows of night, but I knew without a doubt that he’d hung on to every word I spoke. And he felt every syllable. I also knew by the way his chest heaved in short, shallow breaths, that he feared what I’d say next, but he was unable to stop me from continuing. “I may have been weak, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable. I was perfectly fine taking care of myself, not having to worry if my messed-up life would bring down someone else’s. But then you came along. You made my days easier, my thoughts brighter, and for the first time, I felt stronger. I thought it was because I had a friend. I was so elated to finally have someone in my corner, someone on my team, that I never thought twice about the aspects of our relationship. I thought what we had was normal, what any

other friendships were like. But then you said something to make me question how you felt. Because up until then, I thought it was impossible for you to feel that way, but the words you said confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t want to ask you, because I wasn’t sure how I’d react to your answer. And I probably never would’ve asked had I not felt so comfortable talking to you. You dumped a lot on me that day and then walked away. Yes, I was crushed, my feelings were hurt, and I felt more alone than I ever had before. But then something changed. “That Monday when we went back to school, I sat in class with everyone else. Except I learned something that no one else did that day. You were able to have such an impact on me, not because you were my friend, but because you were so much more, I just hadn’t allowed myself to believe it. You asked me how long it would take before I developed feelings for you, and the answer is: I already have.” “Bree—” “You walking away from me as a friend hurt. You walking away from me after I’d unknowingly handed you my heart? That, Axel, that was the wrecking ball that demolished me. It drowned me, suffocated me. And it verified that voice inside my head that has always been there, telling me that I’m worthless and unlovable.” “How would me telling you that I’ve fallen for you, prove you’re unlovable?” “My dad loved me, and he left. Walked away without a fight.” I fought back, my unforgiving voice taking him by surprise as he leaned even farther away from me. “I cried and begged him to stay, begged him not to leave me. But he did. You say you cared, yet that didn’t stop you from turning your back on me, even after I begged and pleaded with you not to end our friendship. I turned seventeen today, Axel. And standing here right now, I can say I’ve had only two people in my life that cared about me above the expected. Both left. If I were loveable, or worth more than that, why haven’t I had more than two people care? And why won’t they stay? If I’m so worthy, why didn’t they fight for me? Huh? The only person that ever fought for me was my mom, and that was out of personal gain. Not love.” “Don’t lump me with your father, Aubrey. I’m not him. I don’t know why he left you, and quite frankly, I don’t care. To me, he’s a coward. There’s not a reason on this earth for any parent to walk away from their child. I didn’t abandon you. I was trying to protect you. So don’t compare me to a spineless man that threw you to the wolves.” His chest and shoulders flared as he leaned his upper body forward, resembling a cobra about to strike. “My decision wasn’t selfish. It didn’t benefit me in any way.” My resolve cracked, melted, and evaporated during the time it took for him to say that. The heat of my anger cooled, and I had to wrap my arms around my body just to stay warm. Every ounce of courage and determination I had when trekking through the trees to get here vanished, leaving me a quivering, weak, and desperate fool. “Aubrey,” he said as he rushed to me, catching me in his embrace seconds before my knees hit the grass beneath me. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him, offering heat and strength. With his mouth near my ear, he repeated my words from weeks ago. “Please don’t do this.”

“WHAT’S WITH OUR TWO-WEEK CURSE?” I asked into his shoulder with a sniffled laugh, needing the seriousness to wane. “I’m almost scared to see what will happen in another two weeks.” “What do you mean?” Axel pulled back slightly to see my face. I kept my head down, not ready for him to see the pain in my eyes, but I answered anyway. “We were good, then I ended up here, then we were bad, and then I ended up here again… If the pattern continues, you’ll be holding me in your yard while I cry sometime around March first.” The breaths of his airy laugh fanned my face, and it caused me to finally look at him, knowing we were going to be good again. “Come on, you’re shivering. Let’s go inside.” I cocked my head to the side in disbelief of his words. He grabbed my hand with a steady smile on his lips. “To talk, Bree. It’s cold out here, and you’re not wearing a jacket. This conversation isn’t over, so I’m not letting you go home. Not to mention, your breath smells like you’ve been drinking. You need to sober up some so we can finish this talk.” I let him pull me up by my hand, and then I covered my mouth with the other as if he’d told me I had morning breath. I followed him, keeping my head down in shame, until we were inside. The heat immediately hit me and calmed the shivers, yet my insides continued to quake with nerves. He led me to his couch, not releasing my hand until I sat, and then he went into the kitchen. “All I have is water. I’m sorry. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, and the only kind I do like is the fancy shit from Starbucks,” he said, coming back into the room with a bottle of cold water. “But water works just the same.” “I’m not drunk, Axel. I had some wine before I came over, and I think it gave me a buzz, but after all that”—I waved my hand in the direction of the sliding door—“I think it wore off.” “Okay, so if you don’t need to sober up, let’s talk.” I rolled my eyes and leaned back into the couch, avoiding his stare. “What do you want to talk about? I think we pretty much got it all out in your back yard. I’m not really sure what else there is to say.” “Well, sum it up for me, then.” I rolled my head against the back of the couch to face him, catching his sparkling eyes. “Sure thing, Mr. Taylor,” I said sarcastically, only releasing my laugh when he did. “Once upon a time, in a classroom not far from here, a young teacher met a student. She came to school one day with a bruise on her face and he wanted to kiss her boo-boos all better. He found out about her wicked mother and vowed to save her, but then he fell in love and was forced to walk away. On the night of her seventeenth birthday, she drank a glass of poisoned grape juice and ran through the enchanted forest to find him. Yada yada yada…they

made up and all was right in the kingdom again.” He blinked dramatically at me, but the corners of his lips turned up. “It’s funny how fairy tales always seem to get it wrong. But that was an interesting twist on it. For argument’s sake, what if the teacher wasn’t in love with her?” My eyebrows shot up, but his expression remained soft, calming my nerves. “Okay. So then why did he tell her that?” “He didn’t tell her that. He told her that he’d fallen for her.” “Isn’t that just some cheesy, shortened version of ‘I’ve fallen in love with you’? What else would that mean, then?” “Just that he has strong feelings for her that could maybe, one day, turn into something more. Something stronger. Possibly love.” “Then I’d tell this teacher that he needs to learn how to correctly use romantic terms. Because ‘fallen’ implies it’s already happened. He’s a teacher for heaven’s sake. He should know the difference between past and present tenses.” He smirked and his eyes lit up. “He’s already been through this with her. He’s a history teacher. Not an English professor.” I laughed, feeling settled as we both comfortably slid right back into our old banter. “Well, he should at least know the difference between fallen and falling. I’m sure he’ll confuse a lot of students if he teaches them about how Rome is falling.” “Touché.” He tried to appear offended, but his eyes gave him away. “Now, about the ending of this story. You said they made up. What does that mean? They can’t go back to being friends now that they’ve both admitted they have feelings for each other. They can’t be more than friends, because she’s his student. So what did they do?” It was stupid to refer to ourselves as characters in a fairy tale, but for some reason, it made it easier to talk about the real issues at hand. It seemed to simplify things enough to rationalize them with level heads. “Well, I guess I imagined that they’d kind of have the best of both worlds. I mean, even when they were only pretending to be friends, they never really were. Their feelings for each other didn’t pop up overnight. So at some point in their relationship, they were more than just friends. Why couldn’t they just go back to that?” “Back to what? Friends with emotions?” I nodded, giving my chest a moment to loosen up. I felt as though I teetered on the precipice of rejection, and I needed to steel myself for it. I took a deep breath, released it, and continued. “Yeah. I don’t understand why it has to be one way or the other. You’re the one that wants to put labels on it. Can’t we just have a relationship without defining it?” “It’s not that simple, Bree. I know you may not understand this because you’ve never had a romantic relationship before.” “That may be true, but why do I need to have had experience to understand human nature? What we had worked perfectly fine before you decided to overthink everything. That’s your problem, Axel. You think too much,” I said, punctuating my words with a smile. His head fell against the back of the couch and he let out an exaggerated sigh. “Bree…you’re not understanding.” He lifted his head again, making sure he had my attention before finishing his point. “Things go bad when people don’t think. When they don’t anticipate what could happen before they do

something that they shouldn’t.” After knowing about what had happened with my dad, Axel’s words hit me hard. They made me really listen to him, and think about the entire situation. He was right. Whatever decision we made, it had to be thoroughly thought out. “Here are the concrete boundaries we have. They aren’t lines in the sand or chalk on a driveway. They won’t disappear or wash away. They aren’t bendable, there aren’t loopholes, and they aren’t to be questioned. I am your teacher—I’m in a position of trust. Teachers are expected to take the responsibilities of the parents when the students are in their care. Having a relationship with you is morally irresponsible. You are still a minor—I don’t care what the law says. You may be legally able to consent to sex, but you aren’t legal to vote, gamble, or drink.” He looked at me knowingly. “And you’re not considered a legal adult until you’re eighteen. So, you’re a minor. “Those are our brick walls. The things we cannot change. You want to go back to the way things were, except we can’t. And here’s why: We were both under the impression that our friendship was innocent, meaning we saw each other as regular people, no impure thoughts, no indecent expectations, just another person to pass the time with. Our conversations remained clean because neither one of us wanted to be rejected or lectured for saying something inappropriate. But now you know how I feel, and I know how you feel. There’s nothing to stop us from fantasizing about each other, or discussing those thoughts. And it’s a very small step between words and actions.” His voice had grown strained toward the end, sounding as though it was hard for him to finish. “We’d just have to make up some rules. Such as no talking about that kind of stuff. We’ll keep it clean. If we don’t talk about it, then the distance between words and actions is irrelevant.” He shook his head in quick jerks, running his hands over the back of his neck. “Like I said, it was easy before because neither of us knew where the other stood. Had I randomly told you one night on the phone how badly I wanted to kiss you, what would you have done? Probably freaked out, gone silent, or made some excuse to hang up. I never said anything because I didn’t want to take that chance. But that’s all changed, because now, I know how you feel. So I have nothing to keep me from saying that to you.” “You know I have feelings for you, not that I want to kiss you. Don’t assume that because I care about you as more than a friend, it means I want to jump into bed with you. Don’t assume I want to kiss you, or be affectionate with you. That should be what holds you back from saying anything inappropriate.” He held my gaze, strong and steady, as if calling my bluff. “Okay, fine. Maybe that’ll hold me off from saying it to you. But now that you know how badly I want to kiss you, what will happen when you want the same thing? What will stop you from saying it to me?” “I don’t know how badly you want to kiss me. You’ve never told me that. You asked a hypothetical question about a theoretical confession. So that would be what would stop me from saying anything.” My heartbeat raced, nearly making me lightheaded, and I prayed he couldn’t hear it in my voice. He leaned forward until he sat at the edge of the cushion, as close to me as he possibly could without getting off the couch. His dark lashes lowered slightly, giving his intense stare a sultry kind of feel, and freezing me in place. I couldn’t back up or move away if I’d wanted to. His tongue peeked out and slowly, seductively, moistened his lips. “Ever since that evening at the library, I’ve wondered what your lips would feel like on mine. I’ve imagined in vivid detail how your tongue would taste in my mouth. And I’ve gone to sleep nearly every night, dreaming about what sound you’d make when your lips part, that intake of air right before opening your mouth for me.”

All the oxygen in the room vanished and I felt flushed. My cheeks were feverish, my lungs ached from too much panting, and my limbs tingled. A tight, fiery knot burned low in my belly, and I squeezed my thighs together in the hopes of relieving the throbbing sensation in my groin that matched the beats of my racing heart. “Now answer my question again,” he said in the same hypnotic tone he’d used when detailing his thoughts about kissing me. “I have no idea what the question was.” I sounded out of breath, and I wanted to kick myself for being unable to gather my thoughts and come up with a good retort. His face lit up with a bright smile as he did his soft laugh and headshake thing again. It’d been so long since I’d seen him do it, that it sent a warming comfort through my body. Then he settled back into the couch again, seemingly relaxed, despite our fiery conversation. “I asked, what’s going to stop you from engaging me in a conversation that could test the boundaries we have set in place?” Frustrated, I balled my hands into fists at my sides and groaned. “You’re making this harder than it has to be, Axel. Think about who you’re talking to for a moment. Take a step back, and look at us for who we are. We aren’t the typical guy and girl with feelings for each other. Take a look at me. You already know I’ve never been in a relationship. What do you think that means? It means I’ve never kissed anyone, and if I haven’t done that, it should come as no surprise that I’m a virgin.” I’d been so wrapped up in my irritation and explanation that my words didn’t register until after they’d left my lips. Embarrassment flooded me until it left me unable to do anything other than open and close my mouth like a fish on land. “You’re right, that doesn’t come as a shock to me. But it also doesn’t mean anything, either. You think virgins can’t lose themselves in the heat of the moment? Or that just because you’ve never been touched means you have no desire to be?” “That’s not what I meant. Of course I don’t believe that. I have hormones just like any other girl, virgin or not. But what you’re not understanding, is that I’m not like any other girl.” “I do understand that, Bree. That’s what hooked me first.” My shoulders relaxed and my fists loosened at his caring words, his husky tone. “What I’m trying to say is…it doesn’t matter if I want to kiss you or not. I’m not the kind of girl that will talk about it. I’m too shy and uncomfortable to say things like that to you—or anyone.” “And what I’m saying is…what happens when you are comfortable enough to admit it? I get your argument. I see your points, but you’re not hearing me. You’re the one that said to take a step back and look at this for what it is. Now I’m telling you to take a step back and look a little bit further down the road. You won’t always be uncomfortable telling me how you feel or what you want. You won’t always be shy around me. What happens then?” “School is over in three months. I’m quite certain I won’t overcome those fears that fast.” I knew I sounded defiant, and maybe I was. But I didn’t know how else to be. I could tell how desperate he was for me to concede to his point, however, I couldn’t. Agreeing with him meant we wouldn’t be together, and I wasn’t ready to wave the white flag just yet. “Do you know something I don’t? Are you graduating as a junior and didn’t tell me? Or am I losing my job? Because yes, summer starts in three months, but three months after that, school will resume. And we’ll be right back to being teacher and student again.” “But you won’t be my teacher.” A sarcastic laugh echoed throughout the room. “Stop being so naïve, Bree. It doesn’t matter if you’re

in my class or not. I’m forbidden to date any student in the school. If you were a senior right now, this wouldn’t even be an issue. But we’re talking about over a year of keeping our hands to ourselves.” “Am I not worth the wait?” He punched the armrest and stood, running his fingers through his hair as he paced the length of the room. “Want me to spell it out? Fine.” He dropped his hands, squared his body with mine, and narrowed his gaze as he loomed over me from a few feet away. “Are you worth waiting for? Hell yes. You’re worth everything. I’ve told you this half a dozen times, yet you never believe me. But this isn’t about what you’re worth. It’s about being realistic.” His aggressive tone caused my muscles to tense as I sat in front of him, watching his exasperation pour out of him in waves that threatened to take me under. “You want to go back to the way things were. Well, that’s unrealistic. It can’t happen. We might be able to pull it off for a few weeks, but eventually, one of us will crack—more than likely me. I’m a passionate guy, Bree. When I like someone, I want to tell them. It may start out with me telling you how beautiful you are, which sounds innocent because it is. But then what happens when you come to school in the spring wearing a skirt, or a dress, showing off legs I’ve never seen? I’ll probably spend the entire time in class thinking about how sexy they are, and before I know it, I’ll be daydreaming about them wrapped around my waist. And then I’d have to hide behind the podium for the rest of the day to conceal what you do to me. Somewhere along the way, I’m going to want to tell you that. I’m going to find the need to tell you how sexy you are, how much you turn me on, and all the things I’d do to your body that I’d give my left nut for if I had the chance.” The throbbing in my core returned, but I had to block it out and be rational. “All I keep hearing from you is what will happen when. We could go all night discussing hypothetical situations, but it won’t do us any good. Since you seem to know it all, tell me, Axel, what do you suggest we do?” He shuffled his feet for a second, sucking on his teeth in thought before shrugging. “I don’t know, Bree. I ended things two weeks ago for this very reason. I thought that would be best. No contact, so that way we wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.” “So that’s what you want? Go back to ignoring each other?” His throat worked as he swallowed hard and then gave me two short, jerky head shakes. “No. I said I thought that it would be best. I’ve never said that’s what I wanted. You asked me what I thought we should do.” “Let me rephrase. What do you want to do?” His eyes lit up before they scanned my body. “Rip your clothes off, lick you from head to toe, and make you scream until you’re sweaty and your throat is sore.” I laughed nervously and rolled my eyes, not wanting him to know how much of an effect his words had on my body. “I’m being serious, Axel.” “So am I, Bree. Which is why this is a bad idea. We’re miserable without each other. But we can’t be together without endangering my career and your reputation—or worse, without me seeing the inside of a jail cell. So the way I see it, we either spend a year in misery, wait it out, and then try again after you graduate, or take a chance and gamble it all.” He had a point, but I wasn’t about to let it go that easily. I still had more fight left in me. “You know, there is such a thing as smart gambling. Know your cards, know the risk, and only play with what you’re willing to lose.”

“I don’t know if I’m willing to lose my job, Bree.” “That’s not what I meant,” I said, and then waited until he sat back down on the couch. “You can come up with all the what-ifs you want. But I don’t live my life by that. If I left everything up to chance, I would’ve given up years ago. You can’t live and make decisions based on fear of the unknown. People will do things in their own lives, make mistakes and poor choices, and sometimes, those things will affect you. I should know. I’m living proof of it. But if you allow every possible scenario to dictate what you do, then you’ll miss out on so much. Because when you factor in other people, the consequences are endless.” “So what do you suggest we do?” “Write our own guide. We already know where the brick walls have been placed. We know where we can and can’t go, what we can and can’t do. So, we set our own limits, our own rules. Who better to do that than us, right? If my bare legs will hang you out to dry, I will always wear jeans. If your detailed description of what you want to lick and how you want to do it makes me uncomfortable, then keep it to yourself.” I gained a laugh from him for that. “You really think it’s going to be that easy?” “Yes, I do.” Axel leaned back into the couch and stretched his feet out in front of him. “Okay, so what are these rules? And are any of them negotiable?” he asked, and wagged his eyebrows at me. I waved off his teasing but answered anyway. “For starters, I think we should keep our actions at school the way they are now. No more sitting at your desk during first period, and you can’t look at me or smile in my direction.” “Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how hard that’s been?” “No, I’m not kidding. For the first week of your silent treatment, Jill and Rebecca made comments about it. They accused us of having a lover’s spat. Girls notice things, especially ones that have a thing for you. Which, I can tell you, is almost every female student in the school, and probably a few guys.” “They said what?” His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “It’s a non-issue. I’ve taken care of it, and they’ve stopped commenting about it. No one is saying anything anymore, but it doesn’t change the fact that they noticed. They paid attention to our morning talks, and probably the way you smile at me, and it gave them reason to question our relationship.” “How do I smile at you?” My face flamed, but I couldn’t make it stop. “Like you’re really happy. Like we have some kind of secret inside joke that no one else gets. You don’t smile like that at anyone else—at least I’ve never seen it.” “Maybe that’s because you make me really happy. And we do share something that no one else understands. But I never realized it was anything noticeable.” “Well, it is. So it can’t happen anymore. Stay up front at your podium. And don’t look at me, either.” “I can’t even look at you?” I couldn’t stop my laughter. He made it sound as if I’d told him he couldn’t breathe. “No. Because you don’t just glance at me, your eyes stop when they meet mine. And then they get this sparkle in them like a kid in a candy store.” “Is it really that obvious?” “It really is, Axel.”

“So how come you had no idea how I felt about you?” I held his stare, and for some reason, I wanted to cry. I didn’t, though. I only felt like I could, like I was so full of emotion that it needed to come out one way or another. “I never believed you would’ve ever been interested in someone like me.” He pulled himself over until he sat on the cushion next to mine, his body turned so that he faced me with his arm resting on the top of the couch behind my head. He lifted his free hand until his fingers grazed my cheek, and I had to fight against closing my eyes at his touch. “One of these days, Bree, I’ll have you believing in yourself. You’ll know just how much you’re worth, and you won’t doubt yourself for a minute.” I had no words for that, because I did believe him. Just being around him made me more self-assured, stronger, and willing to take on the world. “So…what other rules do we have?” He gave me an easy grin and leaned back, offering enough space to allow me to breathe properly again. “Phone calls? Can we still make those?” “Yes, of course. And text messages. But you can’t be naughty, even if you’re joking. I don’t need to know the thoughts or images in your head. If you wouldn’t say it to your grandma, don’t say it to me.” “Fine. I’ll keep my opinions to myself. And in turn, you aren’t allowed to wear shirts that show your cleavage. Or ones that are thin enough to show your bra. Speaking of bras, you have to wear the ones that have enough lining so when you’re cold, your nipples don’t show. You know what? Just line your closet with baggy jeans and turtlenecks and you’ll be fine.” “No saying the word ‘nipple.’” “Nipple? That’s not a bad word. Everyone has them.” “If they’re no big deal, everyone has them, then it shouldn’t be a problem when mine are obvious.” “Fine, I won’t say that word,” he said with a pout, which only made me laugh. “No touching. Of any kind.” “Hand holding?” I gave it some thought, twisting my lips as I imagined what it would be like to feel my hand in his as something more than him helping me off the ground or leading me somewhere. “Yeah. I guess that will be fine. But if it leads to wanting more, we have to stop.” “Anything else?” “One more thing. I can’t come over here anymore. It tends to either begin or end with me in tears on your lawn.” “If I can’t look at you in school, and you can’t come here, how will I hold your hand?” His eyes lit up again in humor as he teased me with his valid question. “Maybe coming here isn’t completely out of the question. But not anytime soon. And if I do stop by, I don’t think it’s a good idea if I come inside.” I watched as he licked his lips before nodding slowly. “Okay. I can agree to all that. But I think the biggest rule should be that we always communicate. If you get freaked out or confused, let me know. If I say or do something that makes you uncomfortable, tell me. And if we need to add more rules or amend any existing ones, we need to talk about it. If we’re going to do this, Bree, we have to be as open and as honest as we possibly can be. Deal?” “Deal,” I said with a smile so big, it made my cheeks ache. “I feel like we should shake on this or

something.” “We could kiss on it.” I couldn’t tell if it was meant as a joke or not, but either way, it put the thought in my head. Before I could say anything, my mind had already conjured images of his lips on mine. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, Axel. I don’t even know how to.” His arm fell from the back of the couch, his hand landing on top of mine. “It was a joke, Bree. But eventually, I will kiss you, and it won’t matter one bit that you don’t know how. I’m a teacher, remember? I’ll teach you how.” I allowed myself to relax enough to let a grin spread across my lips. “A history teacher that sucks at grammar. That doesn’t bode well for your case, Mr. Taylor.” “Guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” I lowered my head in an attempt to hide my embarrassment and caught the time on my watch. “Well, I have about five minutes left of my birthday. I’m sure my mom will be home soon. I should probably head back before she locks me out.” We both stood awkwardly in front of each other before I turned to head for the door. I could see our reflection in the glass and I stopped just shy of reaching for the handle. Axel reached around me and slid the door open, leaning into my back with his chest. “Happy birthday, Aubrey,” he whispered in my ear, which ignited a fire inside my body. I no longer registered the cool weather seeping in through the open door. I spun around, our faces only inches apart. My hands fisted into his shirt, and I held myself steady on my wobbly knees. “Our deal can start tomorrow. I now have four minutes left of my birthday. In the fairy tale, the prince must kiss the princess before midnight.” He cupped my cheeks in his warm hands, bringing our faces even closer until our noses touched. “This is what you want?” he asked, and I nodded. “Then, by all means, princess, happy birthday.” And then he pulled my mouth to his soft, warm lips. The kiss didn’t last long, and he kept it gentle. It was full of passion without turning passionate. I didn’t have to worry about what to do with my tongue, because he pulled away before getting there. It was perfect. It was sweet. But it was dangerous. Because I spent the entire walk home thinking about it. I spent the entire time in the shower wondering when it would happen again. And then I laid in bed for what seemed like hours, imaging what it would be like to do more.

SCHOOL WAS OUT MONDAY FOR President’s Day, but that didn’t mean I slept in. I woke up with a slight headache, probably from the wine the night before. I’d felt fine and sober when I went to sleep, so I didn’t understand the lingering effects. I also didn’t understand how my mom could drink more than I had, yet wake up and go to work as if it were nothing at all. Maybe time grows tolerance. My headache didn’t keep me down, though. Soon after waking up, I received a text message. It was the first time in over two weeks that my phone had made any kind of sound other than to alert me to a low battery. Needless to say, my heart jumped in anticipation at the sound. Good morning, beautiful. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. Have a good day and I’ll talk to you later. I didn’t respond, only because I didn’t understand the rules. I felt foolish as I pondered my decision. I wanted to tell him good morning as well, but he ended it with talk to you later, which to me, sounded a lot like the end of a conversation. But I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it too much before closing the phone with a smile and stuffing it into the pocket of my jeans. My mom wasn’t home when I made it downstairs, and I wondered if she had come home at all throughout the night. This would be where most kids called to make sure their parent was okay, but not me. If I called out to her, she’d accuse me of being nosy and checking up on her. I decided to make a bowl of oatmeal and enjoy the silence of the house while reminiscing about my kiss with Axel. Those thoughts got me through the day until his call came in later that evening. Mom had ended up coming home around three and spent the rest of the afternoon and night in her room. She didn’t speak to me, and I didn’t speak to her, but I was okay with that. I didn’t want to let her ruin my mood. “You know, you don’t have to give me compliments now. Just because we’re no longer hiding or denying our feelings for each other doesn’t mean you have to talk to me any differently,” I said after climbing in bed with the phone to my ear. “Are you referring to the beautiful comment? Bree, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to say that to you. But if it makes you uncomfortable, then I’ll stop.” It was a good thing we weren’t face to face, because my cheeks flamed with shyness. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I just don’t want you thinking you had to say mushy stuff to me.” “For the record, I don’t think that. I said it because I wanted to. Because it’s true. I’m not the kind of guy that gives a girl a compliment, looking for something in return.” That calmed me down for whatever reason. I never thought he’d sent me that text because he felt he had to, but I guess I needed to hear him say that. I knew it would be a while before I could hear those

types of sentiments without doubting their significance. I’d never heard them directed at me before. But I also didn’t want to get used to them, either, out of fear they’d all end and I’d be left with nothing but the memory of it all. It felt so good to hear affection from someone that the thought of losing it all again distressed me. “Tell me more about your sister.” My words were an attempt to change the subject, and to learn more about his growing-up years. We had many conversations about his family, and I loved hearing his stories. To me, they sounded like fairy tales right out of a book. The thought of a family actually showing love and support was unfathomable to me. “She’s a pain in the ass.” I could tell from his light tone that he had a smile on his face. “They’re so excited about the baby coming this summer. They don’t know what it is yet, and it’s driving her crazy. Tracii is a planner and has to have every I dotted and T crossed. Not knowing how to decorate the nursery or what color of clothes she should buy is sheer torture. No matter how many times I tell her not to stress about things that she can’t control, she won’t listen.” “Are you excited to be an uncle?” “Very! I love kids, as you can probably tell from my chosen profession.” He laughed and continued on. He spoke of how his family had reacted to his sister’s pregnancy news. His parents had been over the moon at the mere thought of being grandparents. I couldn’t begin to imagine what holidays looked like while growing up at their house. We talked for two solid hours, and when I yawned for the fourth time in ten minutes, we decided to go to bed. He ended up sending me another text Tuesday morning before school. The same Good morning, beautiful start, except this one said, 53 more minutes until I get to see your face. It made me blush as I finished getting ready for school. Less than an hour later, I walked into his class. He stood at his podium as promised, except he turned his head, met my eyes, and gave me a small, ever-so slight smile. I couldn’t be mad at him since I was unable to keep my eyes and grin to myself, either. After I sat down, he caught my attention again, slyly motioning to his desk with short, abrupt nods. When I turned to see what he meant, I found my CD sitting on top of a stack of papers. I grabbed it quickly and then stuffed it into my backpack. The rest of class was fine. He kept to his promise and acted no different than he had the past two weeks—however, he did it without the complete look of misery on his face. Of course, Jill and Rebecca noticed. “I bet he got laid,” Jill whispered across the narrow aisle, but it was loud enough for me to hear. “Kayla said she saw him at the grocery store yesterday with some blonde. Apparently, she was wearing a diamond ring and buying prenatal vitamins. Poor Kayla, she’s been crushing on him hard ever since the beginning of the school year. I guess he was a substitute teacher for her once last semester, and she thought she actually stood a chance with him.” I had to roll my eyes as they gossiped back and forth. I found it funny, probably since I knew the truth. Tracii and Axel couldn’t have looked that much alike if Kayla didn’t see the resemblance. But then again, you usually only see what your mind wants you to. Before class ended, I wrote Axel a note, folded it up, and slid it under his keyboard. I knew he wouldn’t find it until later, but I didn’t care. Once he read it, he’d know who it was from, yet at the same

time, no one else would. Good job today! You get an A. xo Wolf Eyes I noticed a text on my phone just before lunch. It had come in earlier that day, but I didn’t check my phone often in school. I guess I still wasn’t used to having one. Is it tomorrow morning yet? I already miss your face. It gave me a pep in my step for the rest of the day. One day and he’d already given my confidence a jolt.

Things were great for about a week and a half, but right before the two-week mark, paranoia settled in and wouldn’t let go. I knew it was silly—Axel even told me there was nothing to worry about, that the two-week stigma was a myth, but I couldn’t seem to shake the dread. I knew I’d started to pull away some in a way to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable. It was as if I needed to brace myself for the big blow. Why did I feel it was inevitable? Because things had been good, too good, and from my experience, everything that goes up must come crashing down. I had my entire childhood as a reference. But Axel wouldn’t let me pull back too far, always doing his best to relax me. I’d become the snag in his fishing line. Every time I drifted mentally, he quickly reeled me back in. Most of the time, it was nothing more than goofy conversation that brought our effortless teasing back to the forefront. Sometimes, he’d tell me to listen to a certain Guns N’ Roses song from my CD while he did the same. Then he’d call me and tell me what he thought about while hearing it, always keeping his thoughts clean, of course. And then I’d offer my own opinions and views of the lyrics. The last one we’d listened to was “Don’t Cry.” I wasn’t too fond of the song, but I listened to it like he’d asked me to. The worst part came when he sent me a text afterward instead of calling. He didn’t say anything about the song like he usually did, only asked me to meet him in the trees behind his house at noon the next day. Panic kept me up all night, tossing and turning, fearing what it all meant. I couldn’t block out the fear of the two-week curse I’d joked about. This weekend marked two weeks exactly since we made up and started this new relationship. That alone had me wrapped into a ball of nerves, but nothing compared to his song choice and cryptic text. Running on barely no sleep, I stumbled my way through the trees the next day. I had counted down every second until my clock read five till noon. Now I was on my way to meet him, and every step I took brought me closer, which made my heart beat faster, my legs grow weaker, and my stomach twist tighter. I wanted to vomit and turn around, run back home and hide until the weekend was over, but I forced myself to keep going. It wouldn’t matter if he broke my heart today or the next. Either way, I’d be devastated. My preservation wished that I could just have it over with. But then I found him, sitting on a stretched-out blanket between the trees. Our eyes locked and I stopped moving, the air in my lungs evaporated and left me breathless. Or maybe just the sight of him did that to me… After a second, his face softened and then a wide smile spread across his lips. Those lips…I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them for two weeks, ever since he’d touched them to mine. And in that moment, all the worry, panic, and paranoia blew away with the cool breeze that rustled the leaves around

me. “What is this?” I asked as he held my hand, helping me sit down next to him. “Lunch.” “Oo-kay…but why? What for, I mean?” He rolled his eyes dramatically at me as if I’d asked a stupid question, but then he released a faint chuckle before answering. “Because, Bree, it’s noon. People eat lunch at this time.” He pulled a bottle of water from a cooler and handed it to me after twisting off the cap. “But if you’re wondering why I asked you out here for lunch, it’s because I want to prove something to you.” I waited patiently as he took everything out of the cooler and laid it around us. He’d made sandwiches, had a container of macaroni salad, and a bowl of grapes. Nothing fancy, but it was perfect. At least I’d have a good last memory of him when things ended between us. “What did you think about the song?” he asked while handing me some food. “I thought it was sad, and that it meant you’re breaking up with me.” “How exactly did you get that from the song?” “It talked about kissing each other before saying goodbye. That he’d always think about her and not forget the time they had together. I looked up the lyrics, Axel. That’s very much a break-up song.” He placed his hand over mine and waited to speak until he knew he had my full attention. “Songs mean different things to different people. When I listened to that song last night, I heard something else. I heard a guy that was heartbroken because his girl wouldn’t open up to him. He begs her to talk, to tell him what she’s feeling. He sees something going on inside her, but he can’t help because she won’t let him. I heard a man that wanted his girl to give him something, a whisper or a sigh. And if she decided that it was the end, all he asked for was a kiss. He just wants her to be okay.” “You got all that from a song?” He smiled and ran his thumb over my cheek. “I did.” “There were…um, other lyrics in there.” His hand immediately dropped and it made me look away. “Don’t think too much about that, Bree. He loved her, so he told her so. I’m sure the song wouldn’t have been as great if he’d said he only cared about her.” “So you don’t…?” “I’m not ready for that yet. I still have a lot to work out in my head before I can answer that question.” He knew which lyric I referred to, the one about loving her. And I’m glad because that saved me from having to say them out loud. “I’m okay with that. Because I’m not ready, either.” We exchanged an understanding glance before eating our lunch in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence or one filled with tension. It was calm and easy, just like we always were when we were together. For dessert, Axel pulled out a small chocolate cake. “What’s this for?” Not even bothering to slice it, he took the top off and handed me a fork. “It’s kind of a collaborative celebration. Valentine’s Day and your birthday. I missed both, and I wanted to make up for it. What better time to do that than now, on our two-week whatever you wanna call it.” “Anniversary?” I hoped he couldn’t hear the concern in my tone.

“No. That’s ridiculous. We’re not in middle school. I just thought that since you have such a fear over this insane thought about some two-week curse—which is completely made up by the way—I’d show you how wrong you are.” “Are you some kind of romantic at heart?” I asked teasingly. “I call myself passionate. When I care about something, I’m all in. Like with school, I’ve always been obsessed with history. I used to want to pursue a career in politics, but quickly decided against that once I was old enough to understand the corruption of it all.” He dipped his fork into the cake, sliced off a piece, and offered it to me first. “I’d think that would make you want it more. I mean, doesn’t this country need more positive and honest leaders?” I asked after swallowing the bite with a soft moan. He dropped his head for a moment, and I thought it had to do with what I’d said, but I quickly realized by the flush in his cheeks that it wasn’t. Apparently, I had a bigger effect on him than I realized. That, in turn, made my cheeks flush in embarrassment for the moan that I’d allowed to pass through my lips. “In theory, that makes sense,” he said, once he regained his composure. “Except I’m sure a lot of the corrupted politicians started out honest. Look at it this way…you have to spend money if you expect to run in a large campaign. To spend that money, you have to make it—donations. Well, corrupted individuals that want the law in their favor will back you, and at some point, they’ll want to cash in the IOU. I don’t want any part of that. So I decided to teach our youth instead. I hate how this generation doesn’t pay any attention to the news. They have no idea what is going on in the world around them…hell, they don’t even know what’s going on in their own back yard. They halfway hear things and then take it for face value. Sarah Palin for instance. I won’t get into my opinion of her, because that could take all day. But I’m sure you’ve heard the rumor about how she said she could see Russia from her house. A lot of people honestly believe she said that. But in truth, Tina Fey said that during a skit for Saturday Night Live where she was impersonating Palin. I just want the youth to pay attention more instead of believing hearsay. And not just regarding politics, either. And that’s just one example out of way too many.” “My generation thanks you,” I said with a smirk. “Any thought about what you want to do after school?” I shrugged, wondering how to explain my goals. “Well, there is something I’ve always wanted to do, but I don’t know if I’ll like it since I’ve never been given the opportunity to try. And my mom wants me to be a lawyer. But honestly, I have zero desire to do that.” “Your mom has no say so in what you do for the rest of your life. She’s not paying for your school, so if you don’t follow in her footsteps, what’s she going to do about it? And what is it that you want to do?” I shoved another bite of cake in my mouth to give me time to answer. “She can’t do anything, and she knows it. It’s why I’ve made no effort to prepare for a law degree, which is just another reason for her to hate me. But I’m fearful of what to do, because I’ve always wanted to design furniture. I know, it sounds silly, but every time I look at a desk or coffee table, I can’t help but picture how I would’ve made it differently. I come up with all kinds of diverse styles of beds, and wish I could just make my own.” “That’s not silly, Bree. And why does that scare you?” “Who wants to design furniture? I’ve never heard one person say, ‘I want to design furniture when I grow up.’” “Lots of people. You’d be surprised. I mean, realistically, there has to be people that say that, otherwise we’d have no furniture. But it wouldn’t matter if no one wanted to do it. The only thing that

counts is that you want to. You’ve got to stop worrying about what other people will think and just go for it.” I licked my lips and watched his mouth as he swallowed, the thought of kissing him crossing my mind for like the millionth time.

MARCH CAME AND BROUGHT WITH it warmer weather. Weekends were spent outside amongst the trees. Sometimes we ate lunch on a blanket, other times we just sat and talked. Things with Axel were so easy. I felt comfortable telling him anything, and it seemed as though the feeling was mutual. He told me all about his parents and sister, and stories of when they were younger. He had the best family, and it made me yearn to have that for myself someday. It also made me realize how drastically different my childhood had been compared to his. I woke up every morning to a text message, letting me know that I’d been his first thought of the day. After that initial lunch date in the woods, I’d stopped worrying about us and the nonexistent, two-week curse. He made sure I knew that we were okay. Better than okay. He didn’t even have to say anything. I could just feel it being around him. The electricity sparked when we were near one another. Even apart, the current continued to flicker in my chest, lighting up my world brighter than it’d ever been before. It burned so bright that, sometimes, we found it difficult to keep our hands to ourselves. But we’d made a pact with one another, and we wanted to take it seriously, so we stuck to the rules, never going beyond holding hands. April brought rain showers, threatening our personal time together. Since we’d decided I wouldn’t go inside his house, and we were unable to be together in public, that meant we saw less of each other. But I guess that worked out for the best, because we both seemed to struggle with our attraction and feared our relationship had begun to move in the wrong direction. We ended up talking one day about it over the phone. “Do you ever wonder if we would be together had we met under different circumstances?” I’d asked, becoming slightly insecure. “I’d like to think so.” “So think about it. How much of this between us do you think is enhanced due to the forbidden aspect?” “Bree,” he’d said on a sigh, warming me instantly because I knew his next words would be the truth. “I’m not the kind of person that likes forbidden things. They freak me out, to be honest. Just the fear of getting caught probably takes ten years off my life. I can’t speak for you, but for me, being with you has nothing to do with that.” “Same here. But I’ve been looking up other stories about teachers dating their students, and almost none of them work out. Professionals say it’s because the allure of it goes away once the relationship is no longer considered taboo. They also say that most of the time, it’s a male teacher and female student,

and that makes him a pedophile.” “Do you think I’m a pedophile, Aubrey?” I could tell by the way he’d asked it, that I’d somehow offended him. “No. That’s not what I meant. I was just telling you what they say.” “I know what they say. And that shit bothers me.” His words had come out in a growl, and I knew immediately that I’d pissed him off. “There are real sick people in this world, monsters that prey on young kids. And the more society points their finger at guys like me, accusing them of doing the same thing as those disgusting perverts, it lessens the real situation. I don’t find young girls attractive. I don’t look at teenagers and have perverse thoughts. Falling for one girl, who just happens to be a year away from being eighteen, doesn’t make me a pervert. It doesn’t make me a pedophile. But that won’t stop society from labeling me as such.” “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I wasn’t accusing you of that.” “I know.” With his sigh, I could practically feel him relaxing. “I just hate how society is making the real issues fuzzy. It’s not just about this, it’s about a lot of things. There are real pedophiles out there, ones that prey on the young and weak. There are true racists out there that do despicable things to people, say hateful words, and go out of their way to hurt others. And as a society, we’re not doing the real victims of racism any good by throwing that word out all the time. We’re not doing anyone any good by ignoring the real issues and falsely accusing people of things.” I wasn’t able to hold back my laugh, regardless of how heavy our conversation had turned. “You should’ve gone into politics, Axel. The world needs you.” “Maybe, but I only need you.” His words made me grin and a fiery heat ignited in my cheeks. “Can I be honest with you, without you taking offense or getting upset? I hate to talk about this over the phone, but we haven’t been able to see each other much, and I feel like I need to get this out.” He’d grown silent, but then promised—reluctantly—to stay calm. “I’ve told you this before, but I don’t think you took me seriously. You have this undeniable need to care for people. You helped your friend when you were younger, you help your family any way you can… you’re a freaking teacher for heaven’s sake. You have a really big heart, and you care about everything and everyone. But, if I’m being honest, as much as I love that about you, it scares the crap out of me. It makes me think that you’re drawn to me because you want to protect me. You’ve said it like a million times—how you want to save me and protect me from my mom.” “I wish I could answer that for you, Bree. But right now, I don’t think I can. I guess I’ve never thought about it like that before. You’re right, though…I want to keep you safe. I want to show you just how wrong your mother is about you. I want to unleash the fierce animal inside of you, all while holding you close out of fear of you getting hurt. But I also see you for who you are, and that’s what draws me to you.” “It just makes me wonder if we’d be together had it all been different. Like…if we’d met in the future. If I’d graduated high school and left my mom, found my own inner strength, and never needed you to drive me home when I was too sick to walk, or make me soup and buy me medicine. If I hadn’t needed you to come to my aid, would we be together?” “I’d like to think so.” “But you don’t believe so,” I’d said, translating his words for him. “I don’t know, Bree. If I saw you standing on the street, I’d notice you. If we sat across from each

other at a bar, and you looked my way, you’d catch my attention. If we were in line at a grocery store and you laughed, you would’ve made my head turn. You act like you were invisible to me prior to showing up with a busted face. That’s not true. We talked—although brief—the day before. Your cheeks turned red, your eyes lit up, and you smiled. I saw those things. I also noticed how withdrawn you became in class, how you didn’t appear to be paying any attention. All those things were before I learned about your struggles. Before I wanted to save you.” As he spoke, I closed my eyes, trying to visualize how he saw me that first day. “So…do I think we’d be together in some alternate universe where your mom loved you and I wasn’t your teacher? More than likely. But you asked an honest question, and it deserves an honest answer. I can’t give that to you without thinking about it. You’re right, I like to help people, always have and always will. I’ve never thought that had anything to do with us, but if it worries you, then it deserves some serious thought.” We didn’t speak about it again after that night, and we went on like we always did. However, our conversations did change slightly after that. We started asking each other more personal questions, delving in to all the cracks in order to get to know one another on a more intimate level. I eventually told him about my dad and the reasons he gave for leaving. Axel wanted to spend more time on that topic than I did, but I gave in and discussed it further. I don’t think it made him change his mind about my dad much, but he supported my decision to let it go. In the end, we both decided it was best to leave the past where it was, and wash our hands of the negativity it brought. He didn’t know, and I never told him, but the idea of having more with him became a thought. I knew it wouldn’t happen anytime in the near future, but that didn’t stop the questions that consumed my mind. How many girls had he been with? When did he lose his virginity? Has he ever taken a girl’s innocence? And what would it be like to give him mine? The more we talked, the deeper things became, and it made it harder to block out my desire for him. But I never told him any of this, because it would only serve to prove his point when he said we couldn’t have it both ways. He had tried to warn me that there was a natural progression with these types of things, and I had quickly learned that he wasn’t joking. There definitely was a point of no return. It seemed as if one thing would innocently lead to another and another. So out of curiosity, I’d asked him one night about his first time. He didn’t want to talk about it with me and deemed the conversation as off limits, but I pushed. I learned that he lost his virginity when he was eighteen to his high school sweetheart—it was her first time, too. He couldn’t give me any details about it other than it didn’t last very long, and apparently, it wasn’t that great. But he said it taught him something. He thought they would be together forever. They’d go off to school, graduate, and then get married. But they never got that far, because she cheated on him in their first year of college. He assumed it had to do with her age and inexperience, and the whole grass-is-greener thing had made her curious about other people and what she may be missing. He didn’t say anything, and I never brought it up, but I’m sure on some level, he worried about that with me, as well. We didn’t talk about her too much before he told me other things. Like how he’d only been with five girls. He said “only”—I thought that was a lot. But I guess it was fine since he explained they were all his girlfriends at the time. He didn’t have an appetite for one-night stands and couldn’t fathom ever seeking that kind of encounter. I’d wanted to ask how much it’d hurt me, since I was smart enough to know that losing my virginity wouldn’t be pain free, but I kept that question to myself. I really didn’t need the answer right then. Not to

mention, another girl would’ve been able to give me a better idea than a guy when the time came for me to learn about it. By the end of April, I felt as if I knew him so much better. Our relationship had grown leaps and bounds, dug deeper than ever before. Yet we still hadn’t said the dreaded L-word. I’m pretty sure what I’d felt for him had been love for a while, but I hadn’t admitted it to myself until the beginning of May. And that had come to fruition on accident. Oftentimes, I would leave notes for Axel on his desk, always hiding them. He learned to check his papers and under his keyboard after my class. They were always innocent and funny, but one day, I slipped up without thinking. I blamed it on the heat—Axel was not kidding when he said I had to wear jeans all the time. My note was light, easy, and fun, just like every other I’d written before. I’d made a joke about his hair, and how it needed to be cut. But the one thing that made that one different from the others, was when I’d signed it. I usually wrote “xo” or would draw a smiley face. But on this one, without thinking, I’d signed it: Love, Wolf Eyes. I realized it immediately, and crumpled the paper, shoving it into my backpack instead of leaving it for him. That was the moment I could no longer deny my feelings. Two weeks later, everything changed again. It was prom weekend, and it had the entire school buzzing. Everyone was excited, including me. But my excitement was for something very different. Axel had asked me the weekend before if I would be able to sneak out and see him. Neither of us had any plans to attend the function, so I was left confused by his question. But he said to dress nice and meet him at his house. I had no idea what my mom’s plans entailed, but I didn’t care and accepted his invitation anyway. Luckily, my mom had poured herself a large glass of wine early in the evening, and then retired to her room after dinner. I wasn’t sure why she’d called it such an early night since she didn’t have work that day, but it wasn’t my place to ask. I ignored her, cleaned the kitchen, and then rifled through my closet for something nice to wear. My nerves didn’t hit me until I made it through the trees into Axel’s back yard. I found him stretching out a blanket with his back to me, but it gave me a moment to absorb everything. Candles were lit along the bricks that separated his grass from the flowerbeds, and I noticed a speaker not far from where he stood. A cooler sat out as well, although I couldn’t see what was in it. Axel wore dress clothes, like the kind he wore to school. Everything seemed so perfect and romantic, even the stars were out bright with not a cloud in the sky. After laying the blanket out, he spun around, noticing me for the first time. He froze and allowed his eyes to linger over my appearance. I didn’t care if he scolded me for the dress since he’d been the one to tell me to dress nice. I couldn’t exactly dress up a pair of jeans. But he didn’t say anything other than, “Wow.” That wow sent my heart straight to the moon and back full of happiness. “What’s all this for?” I asked as I slowly walked toward him. With a shrug, he replied, “Prom. I figured we can’t go to the real one, but there’s nothing stopping us from having our own.” “What’s the blanket for?” “Stargazing.” He took my hand and helped me sit down, careful of my dress. Then he pulled out a bottle of sparkling grape juice and two cups from the cooler. “You look absolutely stunning, Bree. Even without lights, I can honestly say you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” “In the world?” I asked, laughing off his compliment. “That’s saying a bit much, don’t ya think?” I

took the cup from his hand and drank, hoping that giving my hands and mouth something to do would curb my growing desire to touch him. “Not at all.” His eyes glistened as he watched me, and then he turned his attention to the sky. “Care to lay down with me? I thought it would be nice to gaze at the stars while we talk.” “Talk? About what?” “I have a lot to say to you, Bree. I didn’t want it to be over the phone, and I don’t know if I can say it while looking you in the eyes. So I thought if we were next to each other, while staring into the giant sky, it might make it easier.” My heart began to race with fear as anxiety overcame me. I hadn’t worried about our relationship in over two months, yet panic slammed into me, as if it had never gone away. Before I could find the strength to speak, he stole my breath away, pressing his lips gently against mine. “Don’t freak out. Because if you freak out, then I’m going to. And I really need to stay calm in order to say this.” His pleading words were whispered across my lips, but they did very little to calm me down. He leaned back on his elbows, waiting for me to join him. With our backs against the blanket and our gazes straight ahead, I asked, “What is it you want to say? Because I swear to you, Axel, you’re seriously giving me a paranoid fear of your yard.” He reached across the space between us and held my hand. His thumb rubbed in soothing circles over my knuckle. “You asked me a question last month that I couldn’t answer. But I told you I’d give it some thought. Well, I have, and I’m prepared to explain it now.” I stared up at the sky, but I paid it no mind. I couldn’t tell you what the stars looked like, how bright the moon was, or if there were any airplanes flying overhead. None of that registered as his words sank in. “The truth is, I do want to protect you. If I had my way, I’d steal you from your house and move you in with me. I don’t like thinking of how you were raised, and desperately wish I could change that for you. I wish I could take away every ounce of pain you’ve ever felt due to your parents. I’ve never denied that. However, that doesn’t change who you are as a person. Maybe those things have even made you stronger, despite your inability to see your strength. You’re an amazing person, Aubrey. You’re smart, funny, kind— you’re honestly the best person I’ve ever met. “You asked me if we would be together if our circumstances were different. I’ve thought a lot about this, and even tried imagining every possible scenario. And I realized that if you were older and not my student, I’d still want to be with you. As long as you’re the person you are right now, nothing would keep me away from you.” He squeezed my hand and grew quiet. I turned my head and found him staring at me. “I don’t understand. It’s taken you a month to think of that? Or is there more to your speech, and you just wanted me calm before letting me down?” “It hasn’t taken me a month to realize that. I told you it deserved serious thought, and so that’s what I gave it. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, Bree. I can’t see into the future. But either way, I wanted you to know that what I feel for you has nothing to do with this hero complex you say I have.” “Are you denying that you have one?” I wanted to lighten the mood, so I winked at him and tightened my fingers around his. The way he licked his lips before talking had mine burning with the remnants of his kiss from earlier. “No. I’m not saying that there’s no truth to that. But my need to protect you isn’t because of that. It hasn’t taken me this long to realize I’d still want to be with you regardless of our situation. It’s taken me this long

to understand why I have this need to keep you safe.” “And why is that?” “Because it’s basic instinct to protect those we love.” I swallowed, and then swallowed again. My eyes blinked rapidly. But nothing I did woke me from the dream I was in. “Yeah…that makes sense,” I said breathlessly, trying not to focus on his words too much in case he didn’t mean them the way I’d taken them. His chest started to heave faster, giving away his panicked breaths. And then he turned his head and stared back at the sky, but I couldn’t look away. “I just thought you should know that.” “Know what, exactly? That you want to protect me because you care?” I sought clarity. I needed the words to be spelled out for me before I allowed myself to believe they’d actually been spoken. Without a blatant confession, there was nothing to prove to me that I hadn’t made it all up in my head. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he cleared his throat. “No. Yes. I mean…yes, that’s why. But no, because it’s so much more than that.” As he struggled to find his words, I turned onto my side to face him, and then patiently waited for him to speak again. “So much more…” I reached my hand out and rested it on his chest, feeling his heart pounding against it. He covered it with his and then let his head fall to the side so that we were eye to eye once more. “Just say it, Axel. It’s me. Why are you acting so scared?” “I’m scared for what this means. For what will happen after I say it.” I lifted myself onto my elbow and leaned into him, pressing my lips against his. I heard his breath hitch seconds before his warmth enveloped me. He released my hand on his chest and used it to cup my face, holding me there for a few moments longer. “What was that for?” he whispered, breathing heavily against me. “It’s me, Axel. Me. What are you so afraid of?” His fingers laced through my hair as he held the side of my face, making sure I didn’t back too far away. “You’re so young, Bree. Sometimes I forget that. I forget that you’ve never experienced certain things. And then I realize it, and it worries me. What happens when you get out into the great big world, and you’re doing it all on your own? What happens to me when you make friends? When guys flirt with you, or when you find that you’re attracted to other people? What happens when you outgrow me?” I climbed over him, straddling his hips, and then fisted the front of his shirt to pull him upright. He sat up willingly, although I could tell by his dumbfounded expression just how shocked he was. He remained silent as I adjusted myself on his lap until we were eye level with one another. And then I cupped his cheeks and pulled his face close enough so I could feel his breath across my lips. “I’m not your ex. I have no desire to explore any other relationship. Not now, and not ever. There’s not a damn thing you need to worry about when it comes to me. Don’t be scared to tell me anything, because I won’t break your heart, Axel. Maybe I am young and inexperienced, but that doesn’t mean I’m a child. I think I’ve had more to deal with than most adults your age. I’m not gonna suddenly fall for some random guy who smiles at me, when I have you.” His grip on my sides tightened slightly before he rested his hands on my hips. “And what about when you go off to college and I’m here? How will you handle the distance?” “I’ve actually been thinking about the community college.” “No,” he said sternly. “I won’t let you settle.” “I’m not settling, Axel. I don’t know what degree I want. It makes sense to take out smaller tuition

loans for my basic courses until I figure that out. That will give us two years before having to make any kind of decision about where we live.” “Where we live? What about where you live in the meantime? I don’t want you at your mom’s house that long.” I let my hands fall to his shoulders and studied his eyes for a moment, waiting until they softened. “I thought I could take early classes at the college and then work part time at night to earn some money. I could find a cheap apartment or something.” He snickered and leaned forward, pressing a light, quick kiss to my lips. Damn, it was becoming easier and easier to do that. “Or something… Is that really what you want to do? Stay here and go to the local college? You want to stay with me?” “Always.” The shy grin on his face widened into a heart-stopping smile. “As long as that’s what you want to do, of course.” For some reason, I felt silly being so open with him, assuming he’d want me there. “I mean, we’ve never really talked about the future or anything. I don’t even know how you feel, or if we want the same things out of life.” “I’ll tell you what I want, and then we can go from there. How’s that?” He waited for me to nod before saying anything else, probably experiencing the same nerves that I did. “If you want to stay here for two years, I want you under my roof. Whether that’s this house or we move to another one, I don’t care, I just want you with me. And then after you pick the university you want to attend, I’ll find a job at a school there.” “I like that plan,” I said with a grin. “Bree, I see myself marrying you, raising a family with you, and growing old together. That’s honestly what’s taken me a month to work out. I was scared you weren’t ready to hear that. Or that you’d realize how big the world is and want to take advantage of your freedom after high school.” “I only want you, Axel. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Not now, and not in twenty years. You became my confidante without even realizing it. Then you were my friend. You’re my best friend. What we have isn’t physical or perverse, it’s real. It’s honest. And it’s so damn good. The best thing I’ve ever had.” He lifted his hand to my face and wiped off a tear I hadn’t even known was there. “What’s this for?” “I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever cried happy tears before.” “Tell me why you’re happy, Bree.” I didn’t need to think of the answer, and I had not one ounce of hesitation. “Because I’m in love with my best friend. And I think he loves me, too.” “Think?” he asked, pretending to be offended. “Then, baby, I haven’t done my job right if you aren’t sure about how I feel. I love you more than history.” My laugh hiccupped in my throat. “And I love you more than furniture.” “I love you more than Romeo loved Juliette.” “So cliché, Axel. So cliché. I love you more than Jack loved Rose.” He cocked his head, clearly confused. “Titanic. He loved her so much he let her have the wooden door to float on while he froze to death in the icy water. It ended up killing him. Probably not the best idea, and I’m sure he regretted that decision as

his frozen body sank with the ship, but eh…it was out of love. A lot of love. And I love you more.” “Damn, baby, we sure do love each other a lot,” he teased before I melted my lips with his, pulling his body flush to mine. His heart thudded against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own. His hand tightened on my hip, the other held my face to his. After a second, he pulled back slightly, and I thought the kiss was over. But then the warmth of his tongue graze the seam of my lips, and it caused me to gasp in surprise. Axel used the opportunity to push further, invading my mouth completely. I was swept up in the storm of his passion, my mind hazy with lust. Tingles spread through me, coating my skin in chills. I had lost all sense of everything as my hips began to roll into him on their own. Moans and grunts mingled in the night air, creating our own soundtrack as our bodies collided. Our lips separated and heated breaths filled the space between them as we both fought to gain control. Yet it seemed impossible to do—our bodies rubbing together felt too good to concentrate on anything else. “Fuck, Bree,” he said in a throaty whisper. At the sound of his desperation and the feel of his excitement, my pleasure spiked. The once enjoyable ache spread into my lower belly, and I had a hard time controlling my body. “Axel,” I whimpered breathlessly into his ear as I hovered on the verge of collapse. The fire just kept growing and growing, and I knew that at some point soon, it would explode.

I GASPED AND MY MOTIONS turned jerky. Axel’s hands tightened on my hips, his fingertips digging into bone. But then in a flash, he flipped me over. I don’t know how he did it—one second I sat on his lap, and the next, I landed on my back with his hard body covering mine. “Bree…Bree,” he whispered with heavy pants, focusing on my eyes. “Let’s slow down. I’m sure we just crossed about ten lines. We don’t have to do this.” I lifted my hips, the ache too much to bear. “Please, Axel. I need this. I’m going to explode without it.” “Baby, you’ll explode if I give it to you, but we shouldn’t be doing this. Especially outside where anyone can see us.” “It’s dark, no one can see who I am.” My excuses were pathetic, but I didn’t care. I continued to thrust my hips into his, seeking release for the pleasurable pain that plagued me between my thighs. “I need it. Please.” He harshly leaned into me once, pushing me back into the ground. “What do you need, Bree? Tell me. Say it.” “This…” Instead of words, I demonstrated what my body needed by opening my legs wider and rubbing my covered sex along the hardness that strained against the zipper of his dress pants. He groaned and pulled away slightly. “Fuck, Aubrey. We can’t do this.” “I love you and you love me. I’m not asking you to take me right now. I just need you to help me make this go away.” “It will go away on it’s own. You just have to let the blood settle.” “No.” I shook my head vehemently. “And what about after this? What happens after you see how good it feels?” “I can’t think that far ahead right now, Axel. Do something…or I will.” He studied my eyes, probably trying to see through my threat. “You will what?” I didn’t answer him, only trailed a hand down my body to the now damp part of my panties. For added effect, I bit down on my lower lip, arched my back so that my chest brushed against his, and moaned. Embarrassment didn’t even have time to set in before he slapped my hand away, gripped my hip hard, and rolled his pelvis into mine. Sparks flew behind my eyes and the heated pressure in my lower stomach intensified. The air in my lungs depleted, but I couldn’t think enough to refill them. All my focus centered on the building fire threatening to burn me alive. The closer I came to the peak, the more my head tilted back, opening my

neck for Axel’s blazing lips and sweet breath. With my hands fisting his shirt at his sides, I gasped, falling over the edge. My entire body became overheated, yet freezing cold at the same time. My legs quivered uncontrollably as his body started to slow between them. And no matter how much air I tried to take in, I couldn’t draw in more than short, useless pants. I felt out of control and incapable of thought. Confused, yet completely understanding. Numb, but at the same time, overly sensitive. Axel’s thrusts slowed to a stop, but he remained settled on top of me, between my legs with his face buried in the crook of my neck. Our heaving chests fought against the tight space between them, both needing it at the same time. I may have been taken care of, but the evidence that he remained unfulfilled, swelled against my pelvic bone. So when he finally pulled away, holding himself up by his hands on either side of my head, I used the opportunity to reach for him. “Aubrey, no,” he said in a harsh rush of air, grabbing me by my wrist before I could do anything more than timidly touch him. “Why not?” He must have heard my insecure tone. His grip loosened and his expression relaxed. “Because, I don’t need you to do that. You can’t do it. That’s going way too far.” “Don’t you want me to?” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice. He gave me a quick peck before completely removing himself from my body, closing my legs together and fixing the skirt part of my dress to cover me. “Of course I do. That’s a stupid question. We should’ve never let it go that far, but I couldn’t say no because I wanted you too much. But we have to stop. This is what I was telling you, Bree. In the heat of the moment, it becomes far too hard to step on the brakes.” “So what do you do with it when it’s like that?” He relaxed next to me and laughed. “Well, I could take a cold shower and think of something not hot until it goes away. Or…” “Or what?” My words trembled with nerves. I knew the answer, but I asked anyway. I had no idea why I brazenly pressed him to say it. It was so unlike me, but at the same time, it felt wild to talk so dirty. I’d never discussed this before, but Axel had a way of bringing out the animal in me. He dropped his head, shaking it in silent laughter. “Or I take care of it myself, Aubrey.” “Is that what you’re gonna do? When you go back inside?” His eyes pierced mine in the withering candlelight. “Do you really want to know what I’m going to do about it?” he asked in such a deep, sexy voice that it made my sex begin to throb all over again. “I’m going to go inside, take off all my clothes, step into the shower…and then turn on the water as cold as it can go.” I pushed his shoulder. “I hate you.” “You love me.” “Yeah…and if you loved me, you’d go inside and take care of that while thinking of me.” “You need to go home now before I lose it in my pants.” I leaned over and softly pressed my lips to his. “Okay. I’m leaving. Go think of me,” I said with a wink, and then I stood up to head home. The walk back to my house didn’t seem to take that long, probably because I’d spent every step replaying Axel’s words to me. His confession, how he sounded when he told me he loved me. I held onto

the memory of his hands on me, the way his hips brought me pleasure, and then I carved it deep into my memory—I needed something to get me through the next year of my life. I snuck inside with a lazy, blissful smile on my face. But all that fell away when I looked up and found my mom waiting for me. I froze in place, unable to move or talk. Fear flooded me, drowning out everything good Axel had filled me with. My happy thoughts—gone. The warm tingles on my lips from his kisses—gone. The dull but pleasant throb between my legs—gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. The only thing left inside was complete and utter terror.

“Why are you wearing a sweater, Bree?” Axel asked me before class on Monday. He stopped me before I could even make it down my aisle. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” I said, keeping my head down and voice low so that I wouldn’t be overheard. “Just don’t worry about it.” “Bree, look at me.” His voice was so hard and cold that he gave me no other choice than to face him and force myself to hold his intense stare. “Why are you wearing a sweater?” “I thought I’d be cold.” “Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his words edged with a growl. I lowered my eyes and whispered, “Because I’m not wearing a bra.” He didn’t speak, but I heard him clear his throat stiffly. “Please don’t ask, Axel. I’m really not ready to talk about it.” His feet stepped back, and I assumed that meant others were in the room. When I glanced back up, I fought off the mist of tears that began to cloud my sight. “Meet me after school.” “I can’t. I—” “It wasn’t a question,” he demanded, and then he turned his back on me. Axel’s attitude was short for the rest of the class, and he didn’t even try to hide his angry glower at me. I hated knowing how upset he was and not being able to do anything about it. We had exchanged a few text messages the day before, but I was unable to talk to him on the phone due to my mother’s watchful eye. He had no idea how distraught I was, and how I didn’t need to add his anger on top of it all. But being in school, my hands were tied. I received a text shortly after his class, telling me to meet him on the corner across the street after the last bell and he’d pick me up. I didn’t want to meet him, but I knew we needed to talk. The rest of the day went by in a blur. I couldn’t focus in any of my classes, and I knew with the year coming to an end, this was the time to pay the most attention. But between my mom, and now Axel, my mind seemed bogged down in a heavy fog. After school, I headed across the street and waited for his red Jeep to pull up. He didn’t even park before I opened the door and jumped in the passenger seat. The air inside the cab hung thick with tension

until he turned down a side road and pulled over. “What’s with the sweater, Bree?” “I told you, I’m not wearing a bra. And I didn’t want people to notice, so I put the sweater on to hide it.” It wasn’t a lie. Every word I spoke was the truth. He released a growl and slammed his hands against the steering wheel, causing me to jump in my seat. “Why does getting real answers from you feel like pulling teeth? Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” I swallowed, wondering what my chances were of him believing me if I lied. But I decided against it, his frustration clearly mounting. “The straps on my back hurt too much.” I wanted to leave it at that, but his fierce gaze forced me to continue. “I fell into the wall unit. It had…it had glass doors.” His lips pursed so hard, the edges turned completely white, which was a stark contrast to his beet-red face. His bright, icy blue eyes filled with an unreadable emotion as they glistened. Before I could stop him, he flung the door open, jumped out, and then slammed it shut before stalking to the other side of the street. I couldn’t move, stuck in my seat as I watched him crouch down and cover his head with his arms. His back shook violently while I did nothing but sit in his Jeep and cry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he returned with tear tracks lining his face. “What… Fuck, Bree!” He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. “When? When did she do this?” he asked with a broken and defeated tone. “Saturday night.” My answer came out in a hushed whisper. His head snapped back as his tear-filled eyes narrowed. “After we…? After you went home? From my house?” “She didn’t know where I was!” “I don’t fucking care! You think that’s what I’m worried about?” His loud voice filled the cab, making me shrink in my seat. “You left my house…where you were safe. And then… Dammit! I didn’t protect you! You were with me and then you got hurt.” “You couldn’t have known, Axel.” “You didn’t call me! Why didn’t you call me? I told you if something ever happened again…if she ever hurt you again… I told you to call…you didn’t call.” I’d never seen him—or anyone—act so distraught in my life. His tears, his quivering lip and hysterical tone, the pain that poured from him, killed me inside. It hurt me more than the lacerations on my back. I reached over the console and ran my fingers through his hair, hoping to offer some comfort. “I’m sorry, Axel. I told you yesterday that my mom barely let me out of her sight. I couldn’t call you.” “Saturday night, after it happened, you could’ve called. If not me, then you should’ve called the police. During any one of those texts, you had the opportunity to tell me something. Anything. But instead, you did nothing.” His voice was a mix between anger and despair, and I didn’t know if I should cower away or hold him close. “And then you sat here and told me that you fell into it. Fell! You lied to me as if I wouldn’t know any better! Why don’t you trust me? Me, of all people?” “It would’ve only made it worse. I’ve never seen her that mad before, Axel. I was really scared. For the first time, after all she’s ever done to me, I was really scared.” My sobs finally broke free, unable to handle the weight of his disappointment. “I’m sorry, Axel. I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad.” “Baby…” He pulled me to him by the back of my head, careful to stay away from my back. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me. I just got so mad that she hurt you. And then I… It doesn’t matter. How bad is it?”

I pulled away from him and wiped my face, attempting to calm down. “You don’t want to see it. Just leave it at that. It hurts, and I don’t want you to look at it.” “Let me see, Aubrey. Telling me that makes it worse.” I shook my head. “Please, Axel. Just leave it alone.” “Were you cut?” he asked, and I could only nod my answer. “Did you go get it taken care of?” “I did my best with it.” “Are you fucking kidding me, Bree? You…? That’s it. I’m going to go pick up a first aid kit and then I’m taking you back to my house. You will let me see it, because someone has to take care of it. And if you don’t let me do it, I’m taking you to the hospital, and then I’ll answer their questions.” He pulled the Jeep away from the curb before I could argue. He stopped at a local dollar store and parked up front, ending the silent drive. “I’ll only be inside for a few minutes. Don’t test me, Bree. If I come back and you’re gone… Just don’t test the lengths I will go to protect you. Right now, I’m barely holding back from calling every cop in this county until I find one that’s not in your mother’s back pocket. Get out of this car, and I won’t hesitate to start making those calls.” “I won’t leave, I promise.” His expression fell as he lightly stroked my cheek with his fingertips. “I’m sorry I’m so mad, and that I’m taking it out on you. I know it’s not your fault. Please, don’t misunderstand my anger. I love you, Aubrey, and the thought of you being hurt makes me see red. I’m not upset with you.” I nodded slowly and then closed my eyes as he leaned forward, closing his mouth over mine. It was a gentle kiss, full of love, but it lasted longer than I’d expected it to. He stepped from the Jeep and took one more look at me before closing the door and disappearing into the store. I tried to relax in my seat, but my back prevented it, so I turned my body and stared out the window, just in time to watch the car parked next to us back up. Axel stayed true to his word and only left me alone for a few minutes. After he got back behind the wheel, he drove me to his house to dress my wounds. Fear bubbled up inside at the anticipation of his reaction. I hadn’t been able to see my entire back in the mirror, but what I could see and feel wasn’t pretty. It made my eye look like a paper cut. “I’m not wearing a bra. How exactly do you want to do this?” We stood in his kitchen near the sink. He spun around and said, “Just cover yourself with your shirt. I won’t look until you’re ready.” With shaky arms, I took off my sweater, pulled my large T-shirt over my head, and winced in pain. I pressed the garment against my chest, and once I told him he could turn around, I held my breath, waiting for his reaction. But instead of words, I heard a harsh gasp, and then I felt feather-light touches along my shoulder blade. “I couldn’t reach it all, but I did pour peroxide on it in the shower. I could only cover some of them with bandages.” “Your mom didn’t offer to help at all?” he asked in disbelief. When would he ever understand? Someone capable of this doesn’t possess the decency to help clean it up. “Tell me, Bree, what happened? Please. And don’t even think about lying to me.” I took a deep breath and filled him in on what took place after I got home from his house. “How dare you!” Those were the first words spewed from her lips. “Is this what you’ve been doing

behind my back? Wait for me to go to bed and then sneak out? What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for the little neighborhood boys?” “No, Mom. I was just sitting in the woods like I always do.” “In a dress? In the middle of the night?” “It’s a nice night. And I wanted to be cool.” “You’re a pathetic liar, just like your father. You two think you can run around behind my back and fuck whoever you want while I sit at home. You disgust me.” She took steps in my direction, causing me to stumble backward further into the living room. “You’ll never amount to anything more than a cracked-out streetwalker.” I should’ve left it at that, just dropped it, let her walk away. But against my better judgment, I squared my shoulders and allowed the wolf inside to take over. Axel had seen it in me, but I never believed him until that very moment. “I’m a slut? Then what does that say about you? You pointing your finger at a virgin and accusing her of being a whore…yet weren’t you the one knocked up by a guy that only slept with you because he was desperate? You had to force him to marry you. And then force him to stay with you. But I’m the slut…” She lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of hair on the side of my head. “You listen to me, you ungrateful bitch. My biggest regret in life was having you. I should’ve killed you before you took your first breath. Keep pushing me, and I’ll take your last.” With that, she shoved me and I fell against the glass doors of the wall unit behind me. The sound of broken glass didn’t register past the screaming in my ear. With wide eyes, I observed the deranged woman in front of me and realized those ear-piercing cries weren’t coming from her. Pain filtered into my mind as the deep burn in my upper back took hold of me, preventing me from drawing in a deep enough breath. The glass sliced through skin and murdered my strength. My knees gave out, as well as my fight. As long as I was under her roof, I’d never survive. Tears slowly leaked from my eyes as I recounted every moment to him, and then explained how she wouldn’t let me out of her sight for the rest of the weekend. Having him at my back instead of seeing my face made it easier to voice the worst moment of my life. Apparently, sometime during my explanation, he’d finished cleaning and bandaging my wounds. I could sense him closer to me, his scent becoming more powerful, overpowering the air around us. Soft, warm lips caressed my shoulder and the side of my neck. “You can’t stay there, Bree.” “I don’t have a choice,” I said with a sniffle. He gently spun me around with his hands on my hips until we were chest to chest. His eyes no longer held the heated emotions as before. They’d turned forgiving and tender…worried, but easy. “Give me this week. Give me time to figure this out. I don’t care if you have to move four hours away to your dad’s house, but I won’t let you stay there any longer. I can’t wait around for a year with the fear I have inside me right now.” I rested my forehead against his chest, my arms between us, pressing his shirt to my skin. But then he swiftly lifted me up, setting me on the ledge of the counter behind me. He moved to stand between my legs. With a gentle hand on my cheek, he forced me to look in his eyes. “I will get you out of there, Bree. If it’s the last thing I do, I will keep you safe. Nothing will ever

happen to you again.” “I love you,” I confessed with a hiccup, feeling calmer than before. Instead of answering my confession with words, he showed me what he felt with his lips. His kisses. His touches. And then he abruptly pulled away, studying me with bright, impassioned eyes. “I protect the ones I love most. You, Bree, are the one I love most.” Happiness swelled in my chest at the thought of having him on my side for the rest of my life. I knew what the declaration of our love meant. It wasn’t something either of us took lightly. My heart grew full as I tugged him closer and kissed him once more. This time, his hunger became evident from beneath his slacks as his erection abraded over my sex. It caused a heated need to burn within me. It burned with his love, with his devotion, and the realization that someone actually cared about me—not only cared for me, but loved me. And he wanted to protect me. But he never got the chance to fulfill that promise of undying protection. Before the week was over, our secret was out. The school’s administration had called me into the office and questioned me relentlessly. They treated me like a victim, like a child who’d been taken advantage of. And before I could make any sense out of it, I found him leaving the school with a cardboard box in his arms. I chased him as far as I could, screaming his name and for him to stop. But he didn’t even give me one backward glance before departing the school grounds. The love of my life left me. Just like that. In one fell swoop, all his words of love and vows of protection were gone. And I was left with nothing but an empty hole where my heart once lay. Tears streaked my cheeks as I stood there, watching nothing. He was long gone, but I was still in disbelief and couldn’t figure out how to go on. And that’s when my eye caught something. A picture had fallen from the opened box he’d carried. I walked over and bent down to retrieve it—a postcard with a close-up of wolf eyes on the front, bright and fierce. I never knew he had this, and it only served to tear me apart more. I broke down in the middle of the parking lot, falling to my knees. I didn’t even notice the asphalt cutting into my skin as I sat there. I clutched the postcard to my chest and sobbed uncontrollably. I was completely alone. I shattered, falling to pieces.

Present day Axel I HAD TO HAVE BEEN seeing things. There was no way she lay in front of me. I’d spent so long seeing her in every crowd. Every redhead on the street miraculously became her. I couldn’t see a freckled arm without convincing myself that I’d found her again. But then I’d look into their eyes, and I’d known within an instant that it wasn’t my Bree. She was the only person in the world with eyes like that. They’d been etched into my soul, carved in my mind, and branded on my heart. Wolf eyes. After going for so long only being able to envision them in my dreams, never able to see them with my eyes wide open, I had nearly convinced myself that she’d never existed. Maybe I’d made her up in my head, seen her only in my dreams. But here she was, this fragile woman staring up at me in shock with her big, bright-yellow eyes, and there was no way I could deny their familiarity. She had been real…and so was my love for her. Surrendering to that knowledge had my mind spinning, my stomach turning, and my heart racing. She was real. She was here. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, and the sound of her strained words stabbed my chest like a thousand tiny pins, aiming straight for my heart. “No… Oh, shit.” She lurched up and immediately began coughing. Clutching her stomach, she turned to the side, hanging her head over the water. I reached for her, scared she would try jumping in again, but as soon as my hand touched her shoulder, vomit spewed past her lips, hitting the lake below. The fear of her jumping back in settled, but in its place, a new panic emerged. Her back arched as her stomach purged everything in it, continuing to dry heave even after there was nothing left to come out. Once the heaving stopped, her sobs filled the air around us. “Bree…” I could barely get her name out. It scratched the back of my throat as if I’d forced it. I hadn’t uttered it in so long, yet it felt natural to say again. Worry over her wellbeing consumed me and made my words shake as I asked, “Are you okay?” She didn’t answer me as she lay on the wooden planks, her cries muffled. Soon, her body relaxed with deep, even breaths, and that’s when I realized she’d gone to sleep. I tried moving her, waking her, yet nothing worked. I slapped her cheek, hoping it would jar her, but it only caused her to gasp and open her

eyes for a split second. She mumbled something I couldn’t make out before slipping back into unconsciousness. I didn’t know what to do. Beyond the stench of throw up, I caught a heavy whiff of alcohol. That was a smell I’d never forget. I thought of taking her to the hospital to have her checked over, but she only seemed to be sleeping, not passed out. That’s when I decided I’d be the one to keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe. I hadn’t been able to protect her before, so there was no way I would let her down this time. The last thing I wanted was for her to wake up scared in a hospital if she didn’t need to be. Her breathing seemed fine, no sign of water in her lungs, so I figured it’d be okay. I would never let anything happen to her on my watch again, despite our pasts and how we both arrived at the present. With my pulse pounding in my ears, I picked her up. When her arms automatically circled my neck, it sent a calmness through me that I hadn’t felt in over six years—a calmness I didn’t think I’d ever encounter again. I carried her to my truck and set her carefully on the passenger seat, reclining the seat so she wouldn’t slump over. With the dome light on, I could see her features clearly, and there was no mistaking—even with her eyes closed—that this was my Bree. Her youth may have diminished some, and her hair seemed darker, but there was no doubt in my mind whom she was. I’d be able to identify her even if I were blind. Circumstances had destroyed us, life had separated us, and time had kept us apart, yet it seemed nothing could snuff out the flame of my love for her. It burned so hot, even after all these years, that the heat consumed me, scorched me, cauterized the wounds she’d previously inflicted upon me. I watched her breathe for a moment, assuring myself that she’d be all right, before closing the door.

My head grew heavy as it wobbled from side to side, sleep calling to me. But I refused to give in. I needed to stay awake and alert. I’d spent about five hours studying every nuance of her as she slept, watching her chest rise and fall to make sure she wasn’t sick or in need of medical attention. Every now and then, she’d make a noise, a grunt or moan, and I’d slip to the floor next to her and place my hand on her cheek. The moment my skin touched hers, she’d quiet down, and a soft peacefulness came over her face as her features relaxed. But as the time dragged on, it became harder and harder to stay awake. Luckily, the moment my lids fell, Bree groaned from the opposite couch and woke me back up. The second my eyes flew open, they landed on hers. The light-green, yellowish orbs held me captive as she stared at me, wide-eyed from shock, and possibly confusion. They’d held me prisoner for the last six years, and seeing them again held the ability to bring me to my knees. I could tell by her stillness that she’d stopped breathing, and that’s when I realized I had, too. “What…?” She glanced around my bare living room in surprise and, more than likely, concern. “Where am I? Why am I here?” She sat straight up, winced, and then held her head between her hands. “You nearly died last night. I was there. I don’t know where you live, so I brought you back here. Are you okay? Do you need me to get you anything?” I sat on the edge of the couch, ready at any second to jump up. I wanted to go to her, comfort her, just hold her, but I couldn’t move. The ever-present anger over her actions from six years ago kept me rooted in my place. Worrying over her wellbeing quieted that grudge against her, but now…I could no longer deny its presence. Her head shot up, panic filling her every feature. “I have to get home.”

I stood the second she did, but neither of us took any steps. She looked down at her clothes—my clothes—that covered her body. She tugged on the T-shirt and frantically searched around the room with darting eyes. “Where are my clothes? Where are my things? Why am I wearing this?” I rushed to her side, hesitant to touch her. “Your clothes were wet from your swim, so I put them in the dryer. They’re dry now. Your boots are on the front porch, and I have no idea where any of your other belongings are. You didn’t have anything else with you when I pulled you from the lake.” My words sounded cold and distant, detached, even to my own ears. Bree refused to look at me. She continued scanning the room, looking at anything instead of meeting my gaze. “Where is my car? My keys? I need my phone. I need to call for a ride. I have to get home.” “I told you, I don’t know where any of those things are. But I think you should sit down for a minute. Let me make you some coffee and we’ll talk.” I lightly held her forearm in an attempt to show her some support. We had so much to talk about, and I knew we wouldn’t get anywhere if she didn’t calm down. But she ripped her arm away from me, as if I’d burned her, throwing daggers at me with her fierce glare. “No! I don’t need coffee…and I certainly don’t need to talk. I need to go home.” Her words were harsh, spoken through clenched teeth, filled with panic and worry. I huffed out my defeat and took a step back. “Fine. I’ll take you home.” “No. I just need my car. I can take myself home.” “Bree…” I waited until I knew I had her attention. “I don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind right now to drive.” “Fuck you, Axel. You don’t know shit about me and my frame of mind.” Her low, growling words ignited the fight within me, the same fight I’d pushed to the sidelines out of concern for her. “I know you tried to kill yourself last night.” Her eyes widened with shock, but then an incredulous laugh bubbled from her slack mouth. “I did what? I’m not sure what you think you saw, Axel, but I can guarantee you that I was not trying to kill myself. Suicidal? Not in the least.” “Then explain why you jumped in the lake at one o’clock in the morning? You didn’t resurface until I jumped in after you, pulling you out. Had I not been there, they’d be pulling your dead body out of the depths of the water right about now.” Heated fury burned my skin as I fought back, angry over her callousness. Angry over the unfounded temper she directed toward me. Angry over our circumstances. She shook her head, quickly turned her back to me as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me, and then slowly spun back around, appearing oddly resigned. Her gaze was softer, calmer, but I could still see the fire blazing behind her eyes. God, it was good to know that fire was still there after everything that we’d been through. “Thank you for saving me, Axel. You’re extremely good at two things when it comes to me…saving me, and destroying me. Now that you’ve saved my life, I think it’s best that I leave you alone, before your other talent makes an entrance.” I grabbed ahold of her shoulders, squaring her body with mine to prevent her from walking away. “I’m not even going to go there with you right now, because I have too much to say about that. Now tell me, why did you jump in the lake last night? If it wasn’t to kill yourself…what was it?” “I was fucking wasted, Axel. I went to my sister’s bachelorette party, and after that, I don’t remember much. I don’t remember being at the lake, much less jumping in. I have no idea where you came into the

picture. I have not a clue as to how I got here. Connecting the dots, I can assume you’re stalking me, brought my unconscious body here, and from what I’m wearing, I think it’s safe to say you stripped me naked. How was that, Axel?” My grip on her shoulders tightened, causing her to wince slightly. “I wasn’t stalking you. I had no idea who you were until I pulled you out of the water.” My words came out cold, hard, and showed every ounce of anger that coursed through me. “And I had to remove your clothes because they were soaking wet…I didn’t want you to get sick.” “You should’ve left me there, Axel. After all, you’re great at leaving me behind.” She held no fight in her words, only resolve. Only sadness and surrender. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I roared in her face. She took a step back, wincing from my tone. My grip loosened as I said, “We need to talk, Bree. I need to know—” “No,” she firmly stated while shaking her head slowly. “We have nothing to talk about. I have to get home. They’ll be worried about me.” “They?” I asked as she continued to pull away. My hand slipped from her shoulder to her forearm, and finally down to her hand. I held onto it, not ready to let her go completely. Even after all she’d put me through, I was never able to fully let go of her from my mind. But once my fingers tightened around hers, I felt something cold and glanced down. A plain, silver band adorned her ring finger, and I had to mentally check what hand it was on. I hadn’t noticed it before, probably because I’d been too focused on her breathing and hadn’t paid any attention to the rest of her. My painful gaze met her cold stare, and that’s when my heart finally broke for the last time. Up until that moment, I’d harbored some kind of unfounded hope that one day we’d meet again. And when that day would come, we’d talk about everything, starting with the moment I’d walked out of the school, and essentially cut her out of my life. We’d catch up on the lost time, realize we belonged with each other, and then finish living out the dreams we made together in my back yard on prom night. But feeling her wedding band against my fingers, knowing it wasn’t mine, and not finding a speck of remorse in her eyes…that hope I’d carried with me dissipated. The last piece of my already broken heart disintegrated. And the strength I’d fought for weakened. No…not weakened. It gave up. Left me feeling like I’d been hit by an eighteen-wheeler, dying a slow, agonizing death. I dropped her hand and her gaze, at a loss for what to do next. For six years, ever since the day I’d heard her crying my name from behind me as I exited the school for the last time, I’d wandered through life. Making one bad choice after another, just waiting for something to make sense. I needed a purpose, a reason why everything fell apart. I needed clarity. And last night, when I looked into her wolf eyes again, I thought I’d found it. I thought we’d been separated by time and distance to allow our ages to catch up to our hearts. But that wasn’t the case. She was taken. She belonged to someone else. My mind darkened with the reality that while I’d never been able to move on, she had. It solidified my previous worries that her feelings for me were nothing more than naïve, young love, while mine were real, hard, and unforgiving. I was at war with myself over this. On one hand, I wanted to be happy for her. I wanted to feel content with the knowledge that what had happened to us didn’t destroy her the way it had

obliterated me. Even through all the anger I’d harbored against her for the decisions she’d made at the end, it still didn’t negate that I wanted her to be unaffected by our relationship. But even though I wanted to be happy for her, I couldn’t help the menacing anger that burned bright inside my chest. Aubrey Jacobs had ruined me. She ruined me for any other woman, for the chance at a healthy relationship, and worse, she’d ruined my chance to carry on with a normal life. In the end, resentment won out. “I’ll take you to your car…if you remember where you left it.” I stormed past her, not once raising my sight to hers, and grabbed my keys off the counter. I pulled her clothes from the dryer, balled them up, and shoved them at her. All while she stood there, not one word falling from her lips. I stalked to the front door, hearing her ragged breaths behind me. “It’s okay, Axel. If you let me borrow your phone, I can call someone to pick me up. I don’t need you to drive me.” Her voice sounded disheartened, but I had no idea why. Keeping my back to her and my hand on the cold door knob, her resolve wore me down as I said, “Last night, I thought I’d have to watch you die. And now, this morning, I feel like I have died. So before I let you go completely, can you just at least concede and let me make sure you leave safely? Can you just give me this one last thing?” I wanted to keep all emotion out of my tone, but that proved to be impossible with the amount of pain and grief that flooded me. It was true…I wanted to keep her safe one more time, hoping that would save my soul. Maybe give me some peace. But what I couldn’t tell her, was that I’d never survive watching her husband pick her up and take her away to their happily ever after. I could feel myself hanging by a thread, and I knew without a doubt that if I had to witness that, I’d willingly let go and fall into the dark abyss again. Only this time, I doubted that I would be able to climb my way out. I’d barely made it out the last time. “I don’t need you to save me, Axel. I’m not the same damsel in distress as I was in high school. I’m not the poor girl that needs you to run to my rescue anymore. I can’t say much about last night…I don’t remember it. But I can promise you that I wasn’t trying to harm myself. I’m stronger, happier now than I was all those years ago. I’m not a kid anymore.” Hearing her soft-spoken voice and the strength behind her words, I turned slowly to take her in. I’d spent so long watching her from afar, never knowing who she was to me. And since pulling her from the depths of the cold water, realizing her identity, I hadn’t once taken a close look at the woman she’d become. When I awkwardly peeled her wet clothes from her body, I had to fight with myself to not study her every curve, her every mark, her every freckle. I had to force myself to keep at the task of getting her into dry clothes, not letting my eyes fall on places I’d only dreamt about before. And once I had her resting on the couch in front of me, I couldn’t look anywhere but her covered chest, studying the rise and fall of her breaths. But seeing her now, standing in front of me, her spine straight and shoulders squared, it became obvious that she was not the same girl from my past. “Last night wasn’t the first time I’d seen you, Aubrey.” “So you have been stalking me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, and I couldn’t tell if she’d meant it as a tease or an accusation. “No,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, frustration taking the front seat of my emotions at the moment. “I told you, I had no idea it was you until last night. I’ve been going to that lake a lot, and sometimes you’d show up. I like to sit against the trees, and when you’re there, I watch you for a few minutes before leaving to give you some privacy.”

“Gee, Axel…that sounds a lot like stalking.” This time, she didn’t sound as if she’d meant it as a joke. But it still didn’t come out as condescending or condemning. I snapped my head side to side before slapping my palm hard on the drywall next to me out of unbridled irritation. “Just stop! I wasn’t there for you. Okay? You just happened to show up some nights. And on those nights, I simply observed your sadness. I watched the way you carried yourself to the dock with your shoulders down, your head down. You just seemed…down. Sad. Lonely. Fuck! I don’t know what you were, but happy and strong were never words that came to my mind when I’d see you.” The strained and heated words scorched my throat and left my cheeks burning. “Then it’s a shame you haven’t seen me in the light of day, Axel,” she replied with a raised, furious voice, startling me at her aggressive argument. “I hate my job. But I need it, so I stay. You happen to see me on the nights after I leave work. And yes, maybe I appear sad in those moments, because on some level, I am. But that doesn’t mean I’m weak or unhappy. I’m not a sad person. Right now, I’m livid… doesn’t make me an angry person, either. You have no right to come back into my life after walking out of it six years ago and try to play the hero again. I. Don’t. Need. You.” “Walking out of it?” I asked, practically screaming at her. “Yes, Axel! You walked away! You packed everything up and vanished.” For the first time since asserting herself, she showed a crack in her façade. She gave me a glimpse of her true emotions regarding me and our past. Anger was a given, but she finally let me see what was beneath it—sadness, remorse, pain. “You know what? I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. Just give me your phone so I can call for a ride.” “That’s not going to happen,” I growled out. “We both still have feelings about how everything went down between us. We need to get those out. Maybe your life is all sunshine and fucking rainbows, but mine isn’t. We need to get to the bottom of this…get everything out—the anger, the regret, the unresolved emotions that have buried me whole.” “Everything has always been all about you, hasn’t it?” Her eyes turned soft, saddened and dull. “After realizing your feelings for me, you got scared and ran, making the decision to end what we had without an ounce of concern for how that would affect my life. When shit went down at school, instead of taking me or my feelings into account, you just bolted. I made one decision for myself and you freaked out…ran away. Now here we are, after all this time, and it’s still all about you. You need to resolve things to ease your conscience. You need us to talk about it so you can move on with your life. When will you ever think of me? Huh? For once, Axel, think about someone other than yourself. I’m fine. I have a better life now than I did back then. Ripping open these old wounds won’t help me…they’ll only serve to hurt me.” Her voice shook, deceiving her strong persona. Hearing Bree admit that she’d made a decision for herself back then only reinforced the burning pain of betrayal within me. “You have no right, Bree. You ruined my life. You set it on fire, and then stood back while it burned to the ground. Take some fucking responsibility for that. Do you have any regret for the one decision you made for yourself?” I wanted her to feel my anguish. I wanted to rip open her old wounds and stuff my pain inside of them, making her ache the same way I did. Her gaze narrowed and her nostrils flared. The yellow of her eyes brightened in a way I’d never seen before. “Not for one single second. I have not one morsel of regret for that decision. It was mine, and I own it. No matter the outcome of it all. No matter how it molded my life, how it changed me…I have never and will never regret it. Because I’m smart enough to know I wouldn’t be who I am without it.”

I wanted to hit something, scream, yell, fight back. I wanted to shake her until she realized the damage her decision had caused me. And somewhere, deep inside, I wanted to numb it all with a drink. I hadn’t needed to fight that urge in over a year, but listening to her admit that confiding to the school about our relationship was something she’d never regret, invited back the need to drown out my pain. I hated it. I hated the pull that amber liquid had on me. I hated even more the pull she had over me. I wanted them both severed, but they seemed to be permanently attached. They were one and the same. One born from the other. “I’m so glad that you feel no remorse over ruining someone else’s life. You clearly aren’t the person I thought you were.” I turned and opened the door wide, allowing the early morning light in. I waited for Bree to follow, but she didn’t. I found her rooted to the same spot in my foyer, exactly where she’d been when I’d spewed my disgust at her. I didn’t want to look at her, knowing her indignation would set me off when I only wanted it all to go away. I wanted to take her to her car, drop her off, and then never see her again. But with one glance, one small and brief catch of her eyes, everything came crashing down. Her shoulders might’ve been squared and her lips set in a firm line, but the glistening layer that covered those wolf eyes gave away her true emotions. “I didn’t ruin anyone’s life,” she cried out with a broken voice. And then her hard exterior crumbled. Keeping her tears in, she dropped her arms to her sides, holding her clothes in her balled fists. “I didn’t force you to fall in love with me. I never asked you to set your sights on me. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I fought against your need to protect me. You’re the one that pushed. You wouldn’t leave me alone. I only came back to you because you left me the CD on my porch. I only pushed for our relationship because you made it clear it’s what we both wanted. As in…you wanted it, too. So don’t blame me.” The raw desperation in her tone made it clear that I’d missed something. I stepped into the open doorway, pressed my palms on either side, and leaned in. My head tilted in confusion as I asked, “What in the hell are you talking about, Bree?” “You’re trying to blame me for ruining your life.” “Because you did!” I roared, using my arms to keep me close to her without getting in her face, causing her to flinch. “Loving you isn’t what ruined me. Trusting you is what did that. I trusted you, Aubrey. And you betrayed me.” Her brow creased as she examined me, the confusion evident on her face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Axel. I never betrayed you.” Her voice had gone whisper-soft, filled with bewilderment and surprise. My head grew fuzzy, probably a mixture of no sleep and the unexpected return of the one woman capable of flipping my world on its axis. I felt like we were talking in circles, neither of us comprehending the other. I dropped my chin to my chest and pulled in a full, cleansing breath of morning air. Lifting my head back up to meet her narrowed gaze, I calmly said, “You told the school about us. You took what we had and gave them information that could’ve marked me as criminal.” She shook her head vigorously, shuddering with each pass. “No. That’s not true.” “How did they know about the times we spent in my back yard? Huh?” I slapped my palm hard against the wooden doorjamb, ignoring the way it caused her to wince and pull away. “How did they know about the phone? There’s no way they’d have known about any of that if you hadn’t told them. Because I know I never said a damn word to anyone!”

Her shoulders fell as her gaze landed on the floor by my feet. I didn’t need her words of admission to know I’d been right. Her posture said it all. And even though she claimed to harbor no regret over it, I could tell by the dismal expression on her face that somewhere deep inside, she felt it. I pushed myself off the doorframe and started to turn around, but was stopped by her meek voice as she said, “I didn’t do it.” I froze, stunned and unsure of how to react. Fury boiled in my veins over her pathetic attempt to lie, but then there was something else. Sympathy? I wasn’t sure what it was that settled into me, slightly calming the rage, but it was triggered by her intensely sorrowful tone. “If that’s what you think happened…if that’s what you’ve thought for the last six and half years, then you’re wrong.” I spun around, needing to see if her expression matched her tone. But what I found gutted me. A lone tear slipped past her lower lashes and cascaded down her cheek. Her normally bright eyes dimmed, appearing more golden than yellow, the light behind them burnt out. The fight I’d carried inside of me for six years, and the anger that once kept me from going after her, vanished. But the pain…the pain over losing her, over the thought of spending my life without her, spread through me, weighing me down, suffocating me. I glanced down to her left hand, realizing that it was no longer simply a thought—it’d become my reality. I would spend the rest of my life without her. I had believed the worst of her, and lost her forever. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU,” I said, keeping my tone deep and even. It was a lie, though. I might not have fully believed her, but she managed to offer enough doubt in my mind that I no longer knew what to think. She shrugged and then sniffled, taking a step toward me. “You know, you’re not the only one who feels angry and cheated over the whole thing. It took some time, but I was able to forgive you for abandoning me. For promising to get me out of my mom’s house, but instead, leaving me there. I understood enough to put myself in your shoes, to feel the panic you must’ve felt when everyone found out. I managed to let it go and accept that sometimes, shitty things happen. But now…hearing you admit that you turned your back on me because you thought I’d been the one that went to the school about us? I take it all back. You don’t deserve my forgiveness.” “Then how did they know all that?” “I found out after you left that Jill was the one who went to the principal about it. She said she was at the dollar store…remember when we stopped to pick up bandages and stuff? Well, you kissed me before you went inside. Apparently, she was in the parking lot and saw it. I never saw her, I didn’t even know she was there. But she’s the one who sparked the investigation. “They called me into the office. I walked into a room and found the principal, two counselors, a teacher, and my mom. I had no idea what it was about…why I was there. I thought maybe you had called the cops again, or reported to the school what my mom did to me. But then they started asking questions about us. They kept talking to me like I was some kind of victim.” Her voice shook as she spoke, that day obviously just as clear to her as it was to me, even after all this time. “So you just told them everything?” “No,” she argued softly. “I didn’t tell them anything until they said someone had seen us. They wouldn’t tell me when or where, so I didn’t know how to explain it. I told them that we were neighbors and would sometimes see each other in the neighborhood. That’s when my mom said something about the trees in the back yard, saying she’d caught me back there a lot and thought I’d been sneaking out to meet a boy. I never told them about that—my mom did.” The doubt that had crept in before began to build. “What else?” “They asked if we had any other communication, and before I could say anything, my mom said she could get ahold of your phone records. I was scared, so I told them about the cell phone you gave me. I knew we never sent any texts that would hurt you, so I thought it was okay. I didn’t want to lie and then have my mom find out. That would only make us look guilty. I didn’t want you to look bad.” “And what did you say was the reason I gave it to you?” I wanted to know that she’d told them about

her mom. The one fear that had weighed on me for so long, that eventually sank me to the bottom of a liquor bottle, was over what had happened with her mother after I left. Because it didn’t matter which way I looked at it, I’d allowed my feelings of betrayal to leave her in a house with an abusive mother after swearing I’d protect her. “I told them about the time I had to walk home in the rain and slept outside, and you wanted me to have a way of getting ahold of someone in the event I was ever locked out of my house again.” “And…? You told them about your mom, right? About the abuse?” She shook her head and dropped her gaze. “No. I couldn’t. She quickly excused it as a misunderstanding, saying she was at some work function that night and didn’t know I’d been locked out. And then she went on to say how it was noble of you to look out for me, but that you should’ve gone to her first before buying her minor daughter a cell phone behind her back. So I lied to them to protect you, and I said you were under the impression that my mom knew about it. But I maintained that we were nothing more than friends, and that nothing inappropriate ever took place.” I closed my eyes as I recalled the events of the following morning. Being called in early for a meeting with the principal under the guise of it regarding my permanent position at the school. I remembered the surprise I got when I learned what the meeting was truly about, and I’d walked into the lion’s den without a moment of preparation. “I wanted to let you know about it, but my mom wouldn’t leave my side. She made me hand over the phone as soon as we got home, so I couldn’t call you. I tried sneaking out that night, but I found her on the couch. She knew I’d try to get to you, and she prevented every move I made. I didn’t want you to be blindsided by it like I was. I’m sorry, Axel. I’m sorry this happened to us, but it wasn’t my fault. I did everything I could to protect you. But then I went to school the next day, rushing to your classroom to warn you, only to find you leaving with a box of your things in hand. I chased after you…didn’t you hear me?” “I was being escorted off the premises,” I said in a deep, whispered monotone, the images of that morning fresh in my mind. “It didn’t matter what I said to them. They made it clear that I’d crossed a line. They didn’t have enough to fire me, but they had enough to make me resign.” I glanced up and caught her glistening eyes. “I heard you, but at the time, I was under the impression that you threw me to the wolves. And had I turned around to acknowledge you, I’d lose my defense that our relationship was innocent.” “I tried going to your house that weekend to explain, but everything was gone,” she cried, letting another lone tear slip down to her chin. Everything about her, from her voice to her shaking hands, screamed weakness, yet she remained strong with a firm hold on her tears. The woman in front of me was not the same girl I’d walked away from. This one could hold her own, and I’d never felt prouder. “What did you expect, Bree? I was ostracized. I was the teacher—the adult—taking advantage of a minor. It didn’t matter what the truth was. The damage was done. And to add to it, I was under the impression that you were behind my crucifixion.” “That was your first mistake, Axel. What reason would I have to do that?” she asked, sounding desperate for an answer. The anger that had fueled her fight moments before seemed gone, or at the very least, it had waned. I couldn’t answer her, because the one good reason I thought she had, no longer seemed valid. But it did cause me to ask her about something she said earlier. “When you said you made one decision for yourself, one you’ve never regretted…what was that?” I had some deep need for that answer. Her words wouldn’t leave me alone until I knew what she’d meant by them.

Bree took another step forward, closing the gap between our bodies. Her stature had become relaxed, softening with every inch she moved. That’s how we always were together, no matter how deep the pain, how blazing the fury, or how profound the sadness, the love we shared always seemed to win out. “Loving you. I’ve never regretted it, nor will I ever. Because that one choice I made, the one thing I’ve ever done for myself…it saved me.” “I don’t follow.” She tenderly touched my cheek, grazing her thumb over my unshaven skin. The heat from her palm penetrated me, burning me to the core. The intensity of her touch told me that this would be a defining moment for us. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that in the end, you finally saved me. Something more powerful than either of us intervened, and because of you and my love for you, I made it out the other side a happier, stronger, better person.” Her hand dropped before I could touch it. “But I really do need to get to my car,” she added, her fight now completely gone. I nodded and moved back to give her space to walk out and grab her boots by the door. We headed to my truck and I opened the passenger door for her before climbing in behind the steering wheel. “No more Jeep?” she asked as she glanced around the cab. I shook my head and cranked the engine. Having her next to me in yet another vehicle proved to be too much on my recently fried emotions. My chest felt as if it’d been stomped on repeatedly, only to be revived again moments later. Bree had that effect on me. She could spin my head in so many directions, causing me to lose my bearings, and then with one touch, one look, one soft-spoken word, she’d ground me again. After a few minutes of strained, awkward silence, I broke it with a question. Something I desperately needed the answer to. Something I’d gone years worried about, and I couldn’t refrain from asking any longer. “What ever happened to your mom?” She fiddled with the clothes in her lap before inhaling slowly and answering. “She died about a month and a half after you left. Things got really bad at home after she found out about you.” Her voice remained low and filled with sadness, which ate at me and flooded me with regret. “Right after the Fourth of July, I got really sick. I thought it was the stress of being at home with her, but then it got worse. She wouldn’t take me to the doctor, and she told me it was my punishment for what I’d done. She said I deserved it for being a whore. So one day while she was at work, I went to the hospital. I don’t even remember how I got there, to be honest with you. I was so delirious and weak. I was dehydrated, so they hooked me up to an IV line and started running a bunch of tests. That’s when they saw the cuts on my back that hadn’t quite healed all the way. They asked about it.” She paused and took a breath, growing too quiet for my comfort. “Please tell me you told them the truth?” I pleaded with her, needing to know she’d somehow been safe without me. She sighed and nodded. “I didn’t want to at first, but the nurse was very persistent.” Bree turned to me as a small smile crept up on her lips. “She reminded me a lot of you, calling me out on my lies and headstrong in her determination to find the truth. So after I saw the doctor and got some of my results back, I finally broke down and told them everything. Everything, Axel. About who my mom was and how she always managed to brush off every incident, getting away with it for so long because of who she was. I guess I’d finally found my reason to fight back—my reason to stand up for myself. They gave me some medicine and called the police, but I wasn’t allowed to leave until the officer showed up. I had to retell

the entire story to him as well before he drove me to the police station. They had to keep me in protective custody until my dad showed up.” I stopped at a red light and turned in my seat to face her, shocked at what she’d told me. “And then what happened? How did she die? What happened to her?” The questions just flew out of my mouth as I impatiently waited for answers. “The cops questioned her, then they came back to take pictures of my injuries—the healing marks on my shoulder blades and the scar on my eye. They had my medical records from when I’d been admitted for broken bones—some were from her and some weren’t. I had to explain each one. They said an investigation would be started, but that I couldn’t leave the county until they had all they needed. So my dad got a hotel room and we stayed there.” A horn honked from behind me, alerting me that the light had turned green. I pulled up and parked on the shoulder of the road, unable to drive any farther until I’d heard her whole story. “Go on.” With a shrug, she lowered her eyes and continued. “I wasn’t allowed to grab too much stuff from the house. A couple cops and my dad took me back home right after they released me from the police station and let me grab some clothes and personal items. But there were a few things I’d left behind on accident that I wanted. So a couple days later, I took a bus back…” “Why? Why would you do that?” I became panicked, my voice evident of what I thought about her returning to her mother’s house. Her eyes snapped to mine, burning bright. “I owned very few possessions that meant anything to me, Axel! In a month and a half, I had everything ripped out of my hands. I found myself living in a hotel room with a man I barely knew, preparing to move into a house full of people I’d never met. A town and a school of nothing but complete strangers. How do you think that made me feel? I just wanted something of meaning to bring with me.” I swallowed dryly and asked, “What did you go back for?” Her anger fell away, as did her gaze. “My CD. I missed you so much. You were the only person to ever give me real comfort. And at that time, I needed it more than ever before. Even if it wasn’t you… even if it was only a freaking CD…I needed it.” I couldn’t believe she’d walked back into the lion’s den for something I’d given her. She risked everything to have a part of me, and that thought evoked so much emotion, I didn’t know what to do with it all. I just had to block it out—block out the pain it caused me—and forge ahead. “Where was your dad? Where was your mom?” I knew I shouldn’t push her, but I couldn’t hold back my questions. I couldn’t wait for her to get there on her own because the anticipation would’ve likely killed me first. “My dad had gone to the store for lunch. My mom was working, so I knew it would be safe to run in and get it. I would’ve been long gone before she got home. But she was there…and I didn’t know it until I was leaving my room. She met me in the hallway by the stairs on my way out. She was livid. I could see it in her eyes. And when she got in my face to scream at me, all I could smell was her wine. I froze in fear…” Her voice became a whisper as she turned back to the window. “I froze.” I wanted to reach out to her, touch her, let her know it was okay to tell me. But I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to hear her next words, knowing what they would be, but seeing her deflated posture, I knew she needed to get it out. I did the only thing I could do…I waited in silence until she was ready to finish her story.

She stared out through her window, continuing to play with the dress in her hand and tapping her booted foot on the floorboard. “She had me by the throat, choking me, repeating over and over again how I’ve done nothing but ruin her life and she should’ve aborted me when she had the chance. I couldn’t breathe and I started to see spots. Then my vision turned dark. I could barely hear the things she was saying. I just kept slapping her, trying to get her off me—fighting back as hard as I could. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t have enough strength, and I thought I was about to lose consciousness. I guess she got tired of being hit, because she threw me down the stairs.” “Then what happened, Bree?” My heart was in my throat and I noticed she had started to shut down. I couldn’t allow her to do that. I needed her to remain strong and determined so that I could get the entire story. My guilt and regret were too much to bear without knowing how it all ended. Self-hatred burned inside, knowing I’d left her to deal with all this alone. “I reached out for anything to hold onto. Anything to keep me from falling. I hadn’t even realized I’d grabbed onto her until we were both laying at the bottom of the stairs. I could barely breathe right. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. Once the ringing in my ears faded and I could take a deep enough breath… I didn’t think. I just grabbed the CD and ran.” “What are you saying, Aubrey?” I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to imagine her mother putting her hands on her, hurting her. But what gutted me even more was the thought of Aubrey taking her mother’s life. Had I been there, had I trusted her enough to know she wouldn’t have turned me in, I could’ve saved her from that. I could’ve held onto my promise to her and gotten her out of that house. The regrets that would live with me forever were mounting and threatening to crush me. “I went back to the hotel. My dad was freaking out. Then I told him what happened and he immediately called the police. I was so scared I’d get in trouble for going back there, but he promised everything would be okay. I didn’t even know what had happened until a cop showed up at the door later that night and asked me and my dad to go to the station. They asked me like a hundred questions, sometimes the same question over and over again. Turns out, she had a subdural hematoma, caused by the fall. She made it worse by drinking and taking aspirin before laying down. She was pronounced braindead at the hospital.” “They thought you had something to do with it? They didn’t believe you?” “It’s not that they thought I killed her, but I’d admitted to fighting with her and said how I pulled her down the stairs with me. They took even more pictures of me—my wrist was sprained in the fall, I had a bruise forming on my forehead, and the skin around my neck showed signs of attempted strangulation. They said it was obvious we had a struggle, and that they only wanted to make sure it happened the way I said it did. They had no reason to hold me, especially since some cop came forward later, telling them about your call at the beginning of the year.” “Why was your mom even there?” Bree rested her head against the back of the seat and let out a humorous laugh. “Apparently, after she got to her office that day, she was sent home. She couldn’t work while having an open investigation against her. I guess everyone finally learned what a monster she was, and seeing me back at the house, she snapped.” I couldn’t take my eyes away from her, burning holes into the side of her face as she stared out the windshield ahead of her. Seeing her now, hearing her tragic story of the life she had after I’d walked out of it, made it difficult to believe that she was the happy, strong person she’d portrayed at the house. But

then she spoke again. “My dad brought me back home with him. I finished out high school here, and then moved in with one of my sisters after graduation. I guess you can’t have it really good until you have it really bad, huh? At least I can honestly say I’ve earned my good life. I fought for it. I won it fair and square.” She may have spoken—revealing the story of probably one of the most traumatic nights of her life— with detachment, but I knew she had to have been feeling something else. No one could’ve lived through that, only to retell it as if it were nothing other than a movie they’d once seen. “So that’s it? She died and you moved on?” Bree leaned forward, tucking her head between her legs and taking a full inhale before sitting up straight again, giving me her full attention. “Yes, Axel, that’s exactly what happened. You want me to tell you about the guilt I suffered, knowing that no matter which way you spin it, I killed my own mother? Well, I can’t. Because I don’t have those feelings. There are moments I worry that my actions have made me no different than her, but then I look at what I have—at who I’ve become—and I know the truth. I wanted out of her house, away from her, just not like that. Not by my hands. But despite all that, I found the silver lining. I got out at the best possible time for me. Things only would’ve gotten worse from there, but in a numb, twisted way, I have to believe that it all happened the way it was supposed to. I know it wasn’t truly my fault she died.” “Is that really how you feel, or are you only putting up a front for me?” “I’ve already told you, I’m a lot stronger than I used to be. I’ve gone through a lot, I’ve dealt with a lot. And I’ve always come out of it better than when I went in. So you have no need to worry about me. I have no reason to put up any kind of front for you.” Her tone had turned bitter and cold, letting me know she was through with the conversation. I nodded at her, keeping my opinions to myself, and pulled onto the road. After rehashing her mother’s death, I wasn’t expecting Bree to talk. I figured we’d finish our drive back to the lake in silence, so when she asked me a personal question, it surprised me. “Do you still have Lassie?” I smiled and shot her a sidelong glance. “She’s with my sister.” “When did you move here?” she asked, keeping up with the questioning. One of my favorite things about Aubrey was how we could slip right back into comfortable conversation, as if nothing had happened. She made it so easy to relax and forget the arguing or tension. And this time was no different. Realizing she hadn’t changed too much gave me hope. “About six months ago. I was living with my sister for a while about forty minutes from here, but then took a job with the school board here in town, so I moved here.” As soon as the words left my mouth, it hit me that I’d been living in the same town as Bree for six months and never even knew it. She’d been directly under my nose…straight in front of my eyes. And then it gutted me, knowing how close I was to her and her husband. How I’d probably run into her again, and what it would do to me if I had to see her hold his hand…kiss his lips. “I’ve heard you talk about your sisters,” I started, hoping to clear my head of the images that had taken over. “Those are your stepsisters, aren’t they? Are you close with them?” “Yes. I have two. I’m really close with the older one, Sarah. The younger one, Clarissa, she’s the one that’s getting married this weekend. It was her bachelorette party last night. I love them both.” I had one of those moments of clarity. One of those moments where you take a step back from your feelings, disconnect from your own personal attachment to a situation, and see the positives of it all. And

with that, I was able to see the amazing life she’d been afforded, despite all the tragedy that led her there. In that instant, I didn’t care how that same tragedy had nearly killed me, how it had taken everything from me, including my happiness, because in the end, she was the one who’d needed protection. She was the one who had deserved everything good, and she got it. “That makes me really happy, Bree. I’m really glad you got the chance to have the family you always deserved. I hate that you had to endure everything else, but at least it’s all behind you now? I mean, you have everything you’ve ever wanted now, right?” I asked, holding my breath for her answer. I desperately wanted her to tell me no, to tell me that she wanted me…but I knew better than to expect that. “I have the best life. I honestly never thought I’d be able to say that, but I can. I have so much love… so many reasons to smile. Is it how I imagined it? No…not at all. But it’s my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” “So you finished school? You design furniture?” She became quiet as we pulled into the parking lot of a motel across the street from the lake. I stopped the truck and then turned to her, desperately trying to pull the answer from her head. “Aubrey?” “No. I didn’t go to school. I finished high school, and started a new adventure with the love of my life. And I have not one ounce of regret about that, so please, don’t question it.” Her answer cut me open, reached inside, and pulled out my heart before running it through a grinder. Seeing her wedding ring on her finger didn’t even come close to gutting me the way her admission did… hearing her mention the “love of her life.” That was supposed to be me, dammit! Before I could reply, she had her door open, stepping out of the truck. “Can I see you again?” I asked, hopeful and probably partially delirious. “No, Axel. That’s not a good idea. I think we’ve managed to get out everything that we needed to, and there’s nothing more for us to talk about. It would only complicate things, and I can’t risk anything muddling the life I’ve built.” I nodded, understanding. “All right. I get it. I wish you all the best, Bree. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, it’s you.” “You deserve one, too, Axel. I don’t know what happened to you after you left, but hopefully now that you have some answers and closure, you can move on and find your own happiness.” With a smile, she closed the door and then walked to her car parked across the lot. I waited until she started the engine and backed up before I pulled out and left. During my drive home, I couldn’t stop the questions that slammed into me. All the things I’d wanted to ask about, but didn’t think to. I wanted to hear about her dad and how that relationship worked for her. I wanted to ask if she’d made any friends, if she’d found any peers that she could trust. I wanted to know everything that had happened to her in the last six and a half years, but I’d lost my chance. She didn’t want to see me again, and I’m sure after knowing about my spot by the lake, she wouldn’t show back up there again. I didn’t have her phone number, or any contact information. My only chance of getting the answers would be if we ran into each other again. And since we’d lived in the same town for six months, never really running into one another, I didn’t know when or if that would ever happen. Intense emotions hit me once I fell into my bed. And they carried into my subconscious as I drifted off, sleep finally taking over. A familiar dream settled in, one I’d had countless times before, so vivid and real as if it’d really happened in that moment. It was of Aubrey’s hands roaming across my bare chest. My

lips on hers. Her voice telling me how much she loved me, and my whispers of love in return. Her need pouring from her in waves, and my inability to turn her down. Then, I fisted her hair in my hands. Her nails dug into my back. The hottest heat I’d ever felt consumed me, rooted within me, filling me up until I couldn’t take it anymore. But like every time before, the second just before giving in, I woke up. Fuzzy images filled me with euphoria right before reality slapped me in the face. As my eyes opened, the ache in my chest festered. Heavy regret pressed down on my ribcage, threatening to stop the beating of my heart. Remorse suffocated me, stealing the breath from my lungs. All because of the love I had for Bree. There was no denying it. I couldn’t pretend it never existed, or even convince myself that it wasn’t real. I couldn’t hide from it or make the ache go away. It was genuine and raw, powerful and unrelenting. Haunting. But I had to let it go. I had to learn to live with this hole in my chest, this deep ache in my gut, and the overwhelming emptiness inside. I had to learn to move on, like she had. I had to learn to live again. I had to learn to love again. And I had to do that alone.

THERE’D BEEN SO MANY TIMES in the past when I thought I’d seen Bree in public, so as I turned the corner in the grocery store the following Sunday, I had to take a double glance at the woman in front of me. I’d been let down so many times before when it’d turn out to be someone else. However, this time, I kept waiting for the let down, for the realization that it wasn’t her…yet it never came. Mere feet from me stood Bree, reading the back of a condiment bottle. We’d spent six months in the same town, never meeting face to face, but after finally speaking, after we’d finally acknowledged each other, it seemed fate had intervened. Fate had brought her back to me again. I had to take that as a sign. “Do you even know how to pronounce some of the ingredients on that label?” I asked as I came up behind her, nearly whispering into her ear. She shuddered, froze, and then placed the salad dressing bottle back in the empty spot on the shelf. She turned to face me, squaring her shoulders as if to gather her courage to face me. “No. And I don’t really care to try. I was just hoping you wouldn’t see me and would keep walking.” She didn’t allow me a chance to become offended before the corners of her lips turned up. “Oh, it’s like that now? We can’t be friendly and say hello when we see each other?” I teased back. “Listen, I know this is awkward and weird. I mean, we had a relationship, a real relationship, and then we’ve both spent years apart without an ounce of closure. But I don’t want to avoid you in public. I don’t want to turn the other way if I happen to find myself in the same aisle as you.” Her shoulders relaxed as she focused on the floor. “I don’t know how to act around you, Axel. I don’t know what you want me to say. We got everything out the other day. Why do we have to keep talking?” She held onto her shopping basket as if it protected her…the way I should have. I glanced at the silver band on her finger and waited for her to turn her attention back to me. “Before we realized our feelings for each other, we were friends. Talking was never hard for us.” “You want to be friends?” “I want something, Bree. I know I can’t have you the way I did before, and that we can’t have that kind of relationship again…but I want something. Something to prove that what we did share wasn’t imaginary.” I wanted to smack myself for sounding so weak, so pussy-whipped. But in reality, that’s what I was. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. We’ve proved that we can’t be just friends. We know all too well how destructive we are together.” “That’s a lie, and you know it. We were never destructive together.” “Okay, maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t change how being together nearly destroyed us both. I

don’t know about you, but I can’t handle another disaster like that.” She lowered the basket, dropping it at her side. “I don’t know what you expect, Axel.” I mentally chastised myself. What did I think she’d say? She was married, which meant I had no business in her life at all. She had a point, and even though I didn’t want to give in, I had no choice but to concede. “I get it. But knowing you’re here, seeing you out and about, makes me feel like my right arm has been cut off and dangled in front of my face.” She licked her lips and met my eyes with her sad gaze. “I know the feeling. Which only makes it harder to talk to you and play nice. Sometimes, the best thing to do is the same thing that hurts the most.” Heavy emotion clogged my throat. I wanted to ask her so many things, but my time was up. Our moment had passed, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I had to suck it up, pull on my bigboy pants, and accept the consequences of my actions, regardless of the regret I’d held over them. I nodded once to her, and without a word, turned and walked away with my tail tucked tightly between my legs. The only thing that helped me remain calm was an overwhelming feeling that Fate was not done with us quite yet.

That evening, I received a phone call from the school I’d been subbing at. They had a teacher that suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized, and they needed a long-term substitute with the possibility of permanency. I accepted without hesitation. I walked into the classroom feeling lighter, better, knowing this would be the new start I needed. And the students didn’t let me down. Teaching kindergarten wasn’t the easiest, and I knew a lot of teachers that refused to take on the challenge. I also had a lot of teachers ask me why I’d chosen primary education. I could never tell them the real reason, only that I loved kids and wanted to point them in the right direction as early as possible. It was believable, and partially the truth. I’m sure there’d be complaints had I admitted that teaching five-year-olds protected me from falling in love with a student, losing my job, and becoming an alcoholic…again. So I decided to keep that to myself. All in all, the kids were good, very well behaved. They responded well to having a new teacher, and listened to the directions I gave without having to be reminded too many times. I’d substituted other kindergarten classes before, and sometimes had to repeat myself a lot. But not with this group of kids. It only served to fuel the positive attitude I’d taken on after my conversation with Bree in the grocery store. I was in the midst of gathering my belongings to head home when the door to my room opened. One of the ladies from the office walked in, holding the hand of a little girl from my class. “Mr. Taylor, do you mind waiting with Ayla? Her mother didn’t come to pick her up. We’ve called her, and she’s on her way. But the office is closed and I’m the last one left. I’ve waited as long as I can. She should be here soon.” I glanced down at the little towhead and winked. “Of course. I’ll walk with her to the front of the school and wait for her. I’m sure she’ll come there first.” I grabbed my briefcase off my desk and headed out the door with Ayla at my side. She reached out and held my hand, startling me. “Don’t be scared. I’m sure there’s a good reason why she hasn’t come yet. She’ll be here any minute.” We walked to the end of the hall, right in front of the main doors, and took a seat on the floor. She sat across the hall from me, her back against the wall, and I mirrored her position so that we

faced each other. I had my legs out in front of me, and she did the same. It was only my first day in the class, and it takes longer than that to know all twenty kids, but Ayla stuck out to me from the beginning. She was a very smart girl, kept to herself, and finished all her work without needing to be asked twice. Normally, it’s the kids you have to constantly get after that leave a lasting impression on you, and not always a positive one…but with Ayla, just her calm temperament and quiet voice were enough to make me remember her. Looking at her, I noticed her blond, nearly white curls that seemed almost too big for her face. She wore a barrette that pulled them back and showed off her eyes. They were the clear color of the Caribbean ocean, aqua almost. The most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even begin to tell her heritage, though. Her skin tone was light, but not porcelain; it had a slightly darker shade. She had maybe ten freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. There was no arguing that she was a cute kid. I didn’t envy her parents at all, knowing they’d have to chase the boys away from her when she got older. Ever since Bree, I had a hard time not taking mental notes when it came to my students. I’d find myself studying their skin, checking for bruises or warning signs of abuse—more so than any normal teacher. And especially now that I taught younger children, I felt the need to watch out for them even more. I hated how Aubrey’s mother had gotten away with it for so long, and I never wanted anyone to ever have to go through that. I also had grown a lot and matured since Bree. I knew the steps I needed to follow if I ever came across another case of abuse again. “Does this happen a lot? How often does your mommy forget to pick you up?” I asked in a calm, curious tone, hoping to gain her trust enough for her to open up to me. No matter how old they were, I always spoke to my students as if conversing with an adult. I never babied the younger ones by using a cooing tone with them. But I knew that when gaining the trust of a young child, sometimes you needed to be more on their level. Give them comfort, and they give you their trust. Ayla shook her head. “Papa usually picks me up on Mondays. He takes me for ice cream. He says it’s our day. He’s never forgotten before.” I assumed she must’ve been talking about her dad. From what I’d seen, joint custody could be a bitch. Every time I encountered a situation like this, where the parents are at odds and the child ends up in the middle, forgotten at school, it makes me thankful for the parents I had and the upbringing they gave me and my sister. “I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. Maybe he’ll make it up to you next week. Who knows, you might get two scoops of ice cream next Monday.” I watched her impish grin take over her face, lighting up her every feature. “And double gummy bears!” I couldn’t hold in my laugh at her enthusiasm. “Yes. I’m sure he’ll let you have double gummy bears.” I crossed my ankles and noticed her do the same, mimicking me. “Do you prefer to go by Ayla, or McKayla? Or do you have another name you like better?” “Mommy calls me Ayla. Papa calls me Buttercup. But you can call me whatever you want. Just don’t say my whole name, because that means I’m in trouble,” she whispered with her hands cupping her mouth, as if telling me a secret. “Do you get in trouble a lot?” “No. Not really. Mommy sometimes uses it when I don’t eat all of my carrots. But I don’t like them. So I wrap them in my napkin and throw them in the trash can. That’s when she says my whole name.”

Somehow, I no longer questioned her safety at home, and found myself enjoying our conversation. “Don’t worry, I don’t like carrots, either. The only way I can eat them is if they’re not cooked and smothered in ranch salad dressing.” “I like that, too!” she exclaimed with wide, expressive eyes that made them shine. “But Mommy doesn’t let me pour the dressing. She says I use too much. But she never gives me enough.” “Oh, yeah? Does she use your whole name when you pour it yourself?” Ayla giggled, which caused her eyes to squint. “Not the whole thing. She just says, ‘McKayla Bailey! You better eat it all!’ But sometimes my tummy hurts if I have too much. She doesn’t make me eat it all. She just tells me that’s why I can’t do it myself and kisses my head.” “You sound like you have a good mom.” The thought made me smile. “She’s the best. And she’s beautiful like me, too.” Her cheeks turned red just before burying her face in her hands as if she’d embarrassed herself. The words on the tip of my tongue were halted with the sound of the door opening. I glanced to my right, expecting to see Ayla’s mom, when my heart ceased to beat in my chest. The air literally stolen from my lungs. And I felt as if I’d been sucker-punched by Muhammad Ali himself. “Mommy!” Ayla yelled from in front of me, jumping off the floor and running to the woman at the door. That’s when my world spun, the ground opened up and swallowed me whole. Nothing made sense. Aubrey was Ayla’s mom? I couldn’t move from my spot on the floor, knowing even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself up and I’d fall over. Our gaze only disconnected when Ayla launched herself into Bree’s arms, but her eyes quickly found mine again. “What are you doing here, Axel?” she asked me hesitantly, keeping her distance. “I’m subbing here. Ayla’s teacher is in the hospital, and they don’t know if she’ll make a full recovery. I’m filling in for her class.” My words were slow and heavy as I tried to calm down and quit croaking my words out. Her chest heaved frantically as she set Ayla back down. Panic seemed to overtake her as her hands shook and her eyes darted along the empty hallway. “We need to go.” She shook her head, exhaled, and mumbled to herself, “I can’t freaking believe this.” Finally finding my strength, I pulled myself up to my feet with the help of the wall behind me. “Is there something wrong, Bree? Some reason why you didn’t want me to know you have a kid?” I asked, needing even the slightest bit of clarity. “I can’t do this with you right now.” I moved to stand directly in front of her, putting myself between her and Ayla. With a low tone, I asked, “Who’s her father?” “A kid from high school. It doesn’t matter.” “Is that who forgot to pick her up today?” We stood practically nose to nose, so the moment the tears coated her eyes, I noticed. I took a step back and studied her carefully, unsure where the emotion had come from. “I’m sorry if I upset you, but I don’t like—” “It’s none of your concern, Axel!” she yelled, just before her sob stole her voice. “It has nothing to do

with you. You don’t need to know anything about our life.” I didn’t want to back down, but hearing Ayla quietly ask her mother if she was okay stopped me from fighting back. She was too small and too innocent to be stuck between the animosity Bree and I seemed to have with one another. But I couldn’t simply let it go. I followed them out to the parking lot and waited until Bree belted Ayla into her seat in the back and closed the door. I shuffled to the side and blocked Bree from getting in the car. She wrapped her light sweater around herself and set her sights beyond me, refusing to meet my eyes. “You told me the other day that you were happy. That everything was good for you. So why did you break down the moment I asked about her father? Why are you crying? And why are you so damn hell-bent on fighting with me?” She tilted her head back, searched the clouds for answers like she always used to do, and then she closed her eyes and filled her lungs, as if she held onto her patience by a thread. Returning her attention to me, she wiped away a tear and then crossed her arms. “It’s so like you to assume that everything I do revolves around you. My dad was supposed to pick her up today. He picks her up every Monday because it’s his day off work, and he’s set it aside for her. I had no idea anything was wrong until I got the call from the school, letting me know my child hadn’t been picked up. I just found out that my dad is in the hospital, fighting for his life after getting into a car accident on his way here to pick Ayla up. So excuse me if I’m upset. Pardon my tears. And get your head out of your ass for once. It’s not all about you.” I swallowed hard, unable to take my eyes off hers. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I need to leave.” I stepped back, didn’t say a word, and allowed her access to her car. I wanted to hug her, comfort her, and assure her that everything would be all right. I wanted to climb in her car and drive her wherever she needed to go, and then stay with her until I knew she was okay. But I couldn’t do any of that. She wasn’t mine anymore, and there was someone else to stand in as that person for her. She had someone else to raise a family with. Someone else to hold her, touch her, kiss her. Someone else to love her. She didn’t need any of that from me. So without another word, I walked away, and watched over my shoulder as she left me…again. I didn’t know how many more times I’d be able to handle that. And for a moment, I wondered if I should just leave town, make it easier for both of us. But I knew that was nothing but a coward’s way out. And I’d taken too many of those over the last six years. I wouldn’t do it again. As I drove home, I couldn’t take my mind off Aubrey. I couldn’t let go of the image of her tears. The sound of her broken voice filled my ears and haunted me. I knew she didn’t need me, and going to her would be completely selfish, but that didn’t stop me from the sudden U-turn I made. It didn’t keep me from driving straight to the hospital. And it certainly didn’t slow me down as I ran inside without a single plan or thought as to what I would say when I found her. Nearly out of breath, I stopped at the reception counter in the front. “I’m looking for Mr. Jacobs. He came in not too long ago from a car accident.” I hadn’t even given it any thought that I didn’t know his name, and only prayed that the last was also Jacobs. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere. The older lady typed something into her computer and then straightened her glasses before turning her attention back to me. “Mr. Jacobs just came out of surgery, but he’s in ICU at the moment. Only immediate family is allowed in there.”

Without hesitating, I said, “His daughter is here, and she has her five-year-old with her. I’m just here to pick her up and take her home. Her phone must be off or not getting any service because I can’t get ahold of her.” Although I did see a car like Aubrey’s in the parking lot on my way in, it was a rather common model and color, and could’ve belonged to anyone. I prayed I wouldn’t be caught in a lie. The woman behind the counter sighed and relaxed her shoulders in sympathy. “Go to the second floor. If she’s not in the waiting room there, ask one of the nurses at the counter and they’ll get her for you. They won’t allow you in the room, but at least they’ll be able to get her for you.” “Thank you. Thank you so much.” I slapped the counter lightly and ran to the elevator bank, impatiently stabbing at the arrow button until the doors opened. Once on the second floor, I scanned the area for the nurses’ station, only to find who I’d been looking for curled up in a chair in the waiting room behind a large glass window. My feet felt glued to the floor beneath me as my chest tightened at the sight of her. I’d seen her broken before, but never like this. It was as if she could handle almost anything happening to her, but couldn’t bear something happening to someone she loved. It only made my heart ache worse for her. I carefully treaded into the waiting room, stopping in the doorway. The room was empty. Bree was the only one in there. Her feet were pressed into the seat with her knees pulled up against her chest, her arms hugging them to her. She hadn’t noticed me because she kept her face buried as her back shook with what I could only assume were her sobs. Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, I made my way to the seat next to her, sitting down carefully so as not to scare her. Finally, she pulled her head away from her knees and turned to me. In that moment, I wanted to sweep her into my arms and hold her tight, never letting her go. But I refrained and kept my distance, not wanting to push her even further away than she already was. Her face scrunched up in grief as she hiccupped a cry. Her arms fell away from her legs, and the moment her feet reached the ground again, she pushed herself against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and crying into my shoulder. “It’s okay, Bree. He’s going to be okay. So are you.” “Why are you here?” she asked into my now wet shirt. “I didn’t know if you had anyone with you, and I didn’t want you to be alone. I didn’t know if you needed help with Ayla. And I couldn’t stand the thought of you in pain, and possibly alone.” Her arms loosened some, allowing her to pull away slightly without letting go completely. She sniffled and wiped her face on her sweater sleeve. “My sister came to pick Ayla up and take her home. I feel bad, because I’m sure Sarah wants to be here, too. He’s just as much a father to her as he is to me. But I can’t leave until he wakes up. I just can’t…” Her pain took over again, stealing her words. “Where’s your stepmom?” She shook her head. “She’s not feeling well and can’t come until later. And my other sister is on her honeymoon. If something happens…” I held her face in my hands, pushing her head back so that she could look at me. “He’s going to wake up, Aubrey. You don’t need to sit here alone, waiting for it. They’ll call you and let you know how he’s doing. He made it out of surgery, right? The rest is the easy part. He just needs to sleep and regain his strength again. And then he’ll wake up.” “How can you be so sure?” I pressed my lips to her forehead, not even thinking about it beforehand. It felt too natural. “Because

you had to have gotten your strength from somewhere. It wasn’t your mother. I think it’s a safe assumption that your dad is a strong man. He’s a survivor…like you.” “Thank you,” she whispered as she rested her head against my shoulder again. “Listen, if you want to wait here, I’ll wait with you. I don’t care how long you stay. I won’t leave. But I really do think you’ll be more comfortable at home. You’re not doing yourself any good by being here.” “I can’t go home. I’d never forgive myself if he…” “You can’t think like that, Bree. You have to stay positive.” She relaxed against me with a deep sigh. “I just want to stay a little bit longer. Just until I have some news. Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep,” she whispered, sounding so far away. The overwhelming need consumed me to hold onto her and bring back the Bree I knew and loved. The only thing I knew to do was to talk to her about something. It’s what we always did. When things got tough, we’d just sit and talk, and before we knew it, everything would seem brighter and more manageable. “Tell me about him. You never said much about your dad before, and now you seem really close. I want to hear all about him.” With my arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer, she let out a small shudder and grabbed the side of my shirt in her fist, causing my heart to nearly beat out of my chest. “He’s a great man. He made mistakes when I was younger, but he’s owned up to all of them. And he’s more than made up for them, too. My stepmom is amazing, and so are my sisters. I hated that my mom kept me away from such a loving family, but at least I have them in my life now.” “He’s good with Ayla?” Even though it was no longer my job to protect Bree, or her daughter, I couldn’t fight the unexplainable strong connection I felt toward them both. I only needed to make sure they were both being well taken care of. Her small giggle rippled through my side as she snuggled closer, attempting to hide her humor. “When he found out about Ayla, he wasn’t too happy. But once he got out the typical father speech about how he wanted better for me, he seemed rather happy. I think she’s kind of helped him overcome his guilt over things he regrets from when I was young. And he sees how good she is for me, too…that makes him happy.” “She’s the reason you never went to college?” “Yeah. But I don’t regret it for a minute. I thought about taking classes once she started school, but I decided against it a while ago. The drive isn’t really there for me. I think the reason I wanted to go to college so much before was to get away from my mom. But I don’t have that excuse anymore.” “What about your job? You said you hate it.” I wanted to keep her talking, not only to prevent her mind from falling prey to the situation in front of her, but also because I didn’t know how much time I had with her, and I needed to know everything I could about the woman she’d turned out to be. “My dad and Robin, as well as my sisters, have been so supportive ever since I came into their lives. They never treated me as anything other than their family. But after I graduated from high school, I wanted to be as independent as I could. I didn’t want to rely on them for everything, so I took the only job that was available at the time. I work at a motel downtown, the one across from the lake. But I had to take the nightshifts because Ayla needed me during the day. Now that she’s in school, I can work days, but they don’t need a day clerk at the moment, and everywhere else I’ve applied said they can’t be flexible enough for my situation. So I’m stuck there.” “Why do you hate the motel so much? Just the hours?”

“That,” she started with a huff, “and it’s a pay-by-the-hour place. Meaning we get a lot of shady people. Hookers, johns, cheating husbands…those types of seedy characters. It’s depressing, but it helps pay the bills.” I fought the urge to ask about her husband—what he did for a living, why didn’t he help out that much —but I refrained, knowing that listening to her talk about him would hurt more than the knowledge of his existence. So I kept my questions and concerns to myself and surmised that he was probably just as young as Bree, and most likely struggled along with her instead of being the dead-beat dad I’d imagined him to be. “You still dream of making furniture?” Her body had fully relaxed against mine as she nodded. “But it’s not something that I will be able to do anytime soon. I’ve realized that I don’t need school to do it. I only need money,” she said with a laugh. “I know it’ll take me time to save up, but I also know how worth it it’ll be in the end, knowing I did it all on my own.” Before I could say anything else to her, a nurse walked in the room. “Are you the family of Mr. Jacobs?” she asked, holding a clipboard to her chest as she stood in the doorway. Bree jumped up, her hands shaking at her sides. “Yes…he’s my father.” Without thought, without a moment’s hesitation, I reached out and grabbed her hand in mine, gripping it tightly to show her my support. She needed to know that someone was there for her. The older woman in pink and white scrubs took a few steps and sat down in the chair closest to her, motioning for Aubrey to do the same. “He’s awake. He’s very tired and still recovering from the anesthesia, so he’s groggy and doesn’t really know what’s going on. We have him sedated with heavy pain meds, so he’s not very lucid. But he’s in the clear, and that’s all that matters right now. You’re welcome to see him if you’d like, but we ask that only one person at a time goes in. And we don’t suggest staying too long. If he knows you’re in there, he might try to stay awake, and he needs his rest to allow his body to heal.” Aubrey relaxed in front me. Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped. “Any idea of how long it’ll take for him to recover? When will he get to come home?” The nurse shook her head and answered, “Let’s take it one step at a time, but as long as everything goes well, which we fully expect it to, he should be moved to a regular room tomorrow. As far as when he will be released, I can’t give you an answer. It all depends on how fast his body starts to heal.” “Thank you,” Bree whispered, gripping my hand. I wasn’t sure if she meant it toward me or the nurse, but the lady smiled and left the room. I didn’t move, refused to let go of Bree, and waited for her to make the first move. “I need to go home.” I nodded, knowing my time had come to an end. “But I don’t want to be alone.”

“WHY WOULD YOU BE ALONE?” I asked cautiously as I explored her wedding band with my fingertips and thumb. She turned away and closed her eyes. “Can you please just make sure I get home okay? I’m really drained right now, and I would feel better if I knew someone was watching out for me. Plus, after what happened to my dad, I’m kinda scared to be driving.” “Of course.” I couldn’t say more, ask more, or even suggest more, worried that it might push her away. I simply left it at that, grabbed her purse from the floor, and escorted her out to the parking lot. I followed her across town, stopping when she pulled into a driveway next to another car. The smart thing to do would’ve been to wave at her and keep driving home. But I never claimed to be smart around Bree. That fact had been proven time and time again when I’d shut off all logic and engaged in a romantic relationship with a student, knowing the reality of the outcome. I decided to park on the road in front of her house and got out, knowing the dangerous line I teetered on. Just as I did with all things pertaining to Bree, I rationalized my thoughts. All I wanted was to say goodnight, to let her know that I would be there for support anytime she needed me. But as soon as I stepped up to her after she closed the door of her car, someone walked outside. She was young with blond hair, petite, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She wrapped her arms around her waist as she approached, probably fighting off the slight chill in the air. Her eyes narrowed on me, taking slow, cautious steps toward us. “How is he?” she asked, facing Bree but not looking away from me. “He’s fine. They said he can have visitors, but only one at a time and not for very long. Since I’m home now, you can go see him if you want. I don’t think I’ll go back up there until tomorrow. But if you want to go, you should probably hurry before they shut down visiting hours.” Bree’s voice was soft, full of sadness. “Have you seen him?” “No.” Bree shook her head adamantly. “I know he looks bad. I don’t want to see him that way. I don’t want to see him with all those tubes coming out of him and hooked up to the machines. They said that he’ll hopefully be in a regular room tomorrow, so I’m waiting on that.” The blonde nodded, finally turning her full attention to Aubrey. She lightly touched Bree’s shoulders and smiled. “Thank you. I’m going to pick up Mom and then take her. She’s been a nervous wreck, and I think seeing him might calm her some.” “I feel bad now. I’ve made you two wait this long.”

“Don’t feel bad,” the blonde said, shaking her head. “He’s your dad.” “He’s yours, too.” They both embraced each other, holding on for an extra second before letting go. The young woman, who I assumed to be one of her sisters, regarded me once more, and then backed away. “Ayla is already fed, showered, and in bed. I don’t know if she’s asleep yet.” “Thank you. Really, thank you for everything,” Bree whispered, sounding on the verge of crying. “If I don’t see you later, I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, the sister got in her car and left. I felt beyond confused, but didn’t know where to start. I only stood there, waiting for Aubrey to make a move, or at the very least, say something. I didn’t want to break the silence with an interrogation, and couldn’t believe I’d escaped one from her sister. “Thank you, Axel. It really meant a lot that you were there,” she said, avoiding an explanation of who that was or what was going on. I grabbed the tips of her fingers and exhaled loudly. “Bree—” “Would you like to come inside?” she asked, clearing my head of any question I’d thought to ask. “I really don’t want to be alone.” Unable to speak, I nodded and then followed her inside. The house was small, but had a very comfortable, lived-in feeling. Pictures of Ayla hung on the walls, along with pieces of colored construction paper drawn by a creative artist donned with stick figures and various shapes. I stood in the entryway, taking everything in. The couch seemed worn, yet well taken care of. A small television sat on top of an antique-looking table with vibrant colored swirls as accents. The coffee table in the middle of the room was dark wood, yet more vibrant colors stood out on the edges and legs, glazed over by a thick coat of shine. I turned around and noticed a small bookcase. It stood at my hip level and was filled with children’s books. It, too, had the same painted designs beneath a polished coat. “Are these yours?” I asked as I ran my finger over the top of the bookcase. “What do you mean? I live here…so yeah, they’re mine.” I lifted my head to look into her eyes. “I mean, did you design these?” “They were old pieces of furniture I found on the side of the road and I just fixed them up. Whenever I pass by someone’s trash and see a piece by the road, I always stop and grab it. Some need more work than others. Some only need a new coat of paint. And sometimes, like the furniture in Ayla’s room, I end up taking pieces from several different things and turn it into one thing.” Her cheeks flamed red, showing her embarrassment over my awe of her talent. “These are amazing, Bree. Why don’t you sell them?” “I do sometimes. If I find something we don’t need, I take it to the flea market and sell it there. But I can’t do it regularly because I can only do it on things people have thrown out. I’m trying to save money so that I can start building my own. I’ve taken these things apart so many times I could make something with my eyes closed.” I glanced around the room, my gaze surveying the furniture within my line of sight. “What else have you done?” I asked, desperate to see every piece she’d ever created. She turned and headed down a hallway beyond the living room. I followed, unsure of where we were going, but not really caring. As long as I remained with her, walking further into her house instead of out the front door, I didn’t care if she took me to the bathroom.

But she didn’t take me to a bathroom. She opened the door to a bedroom, peeked inside, slowly closed it back, and then went to a room across the hall. She flipped on the lamp beside the bed, offering the room a soft glow, and then quietly closed the door behind me. There wasn’t much to the room other than a bed with high, painted and glossed posts, and a tall dresser that matched. Aubrey sat on the edge of the bed while I studied the designs, moving farther in to the room, exploring each of the pieces of furniture with my fingertips. “Is this the guest room?” When I didn’t hear an answer, I turned back to her, catching her peering up at the ceiling with her hands twisted in her lap. It took me back six years, watching her search for the answers in the air around her. “What am I missing, Bree?” I asked slowly, almost afraid of the answer. “This is my room,” she whispered, and lowered her head. My eyes frantically searched the room, wondering why she’d led me to the room she shared with her husband. But then it hit me. This was not a master suite. There was no bathroom attached, and even more glaringly obvious, there were no signs of any male living there. I stilled, slowly bringing my gaze back to her bed. I knew I had to tread carefully, not wanting to come across as accusatory. “Your husband must be a small guy if you both fit on this bed together.” She spun the band on her finger before pulling it off and holding it up between us. “I wear this for work, hoping it’ll ward off some of the creeps that go there. I had it made after Ayla was born. Her name is inscribed on the inside.” “Why…” I had to shake my head and take in a deep breath in order to calm myself down enough to ask her the first question that popped into my mind. “Why did you let me believe that you were married?” Her hands fell to the mattress as she shrugged, dropping her gaze from mine. “I don’t know. I’ve grown so much without you, Axel. I’ve become a very different person. And I thought that if I pushed you away, kept you out of my life, it would be better for me. I can’t go back to being the defenseless girl you fell in love with. I’ve come too far to go back to being that person. And I don’t know how to be any other way around you. Look at tonight. Look at how defeated I am.” “That’s because your father was hospitalized after an idiot ran a red light and smashed into him. That has nothing to do with me. For one second, imagine how you would be had I not shown up at the hospital. Had I not been there for you.” I couldn’t take how she refused to meet my eyes, so I moved around the bed, sat on the edge, and faced her. “I know. Okay? I get it.” Finally, her fierce attitude began to show itself. “But it doesn’t change things. I have a life—a very good life. And from what you’ve said, yours has been shit. I don’t need that in my life, Axel. I have Ayla to think about. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s no longer about what we used to have. It’s about what I have now…and I won’t risk that for anything. For anyone.” Something in her tone led me to believe this was her closure. This was her way of letting me go. And if that was the case, I wouldn’t leave without complete closure. Without absolute clarity. “What about Ayla’s father. Where is he?” “He’s never been there.” “What?” I asked, wide-eyed. “Never? Not even when she was a baby and you were in school? What about financially? Does he at least pay child support?” I had no right to ask those questions, but I hated the thought of Bree doing everything on her own.

“Do you remember how I told you I was sick and had to go to the hospital…right before my mom died? Well, that’s when I learned that I was pregnant. My dad took me away. I was four hours away from her father. I didn’t want a fight or problems, so I did what I had to do. I had the support of my new family, and that’s all that I needed.” “So he doesn’t even know about her?” She licked her lips and sighed. “No. And I don’t regret that decision.” “Who is he?” I knew once I had a name there would be no stopping me from finding him and making him start contributing financially to her. “Just someone from school. I was in a place where I needed him. I needed to feel secure and safe. And he gave me that. He gave me exactly what I needed.” I felt sick, knowing that my leaving had pushed her into the arms—the bed—of another male. I broke her heart and left her to seek the comfort of someone else, when it should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one taking care of her, fathering her children when the time was right for both of us. Not some douchebag that went about his life without the knowledge of his own kid. “Stop, Axel. I can see your brain working. Don’t worry about me. You have no reason to feel sorry for anything. In a way, you leaving saved me. With you, I had no reason to fight back, no reason to grow a backbone and become strong enough to stand on my own two feet. I had you. You were my defender. But without you, I had to learn to do it on my own. Had you stayed in my life, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to leave my mom’s. I wouldn’t have wanted to go to my dad’s and be four hours away from you. I won’t lie, the road I took to get me here has been bumpy and sometimes unpaved, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t give up or back down. And I did it all without leaning on anyone—well, I occasionally leaned on my family, but that’s what they’re there for.” The way she spoke told me that she meant every word. I relaxed on the mattress as my shoulders slumped forward, feeling defeated. All I’d ever wanted to do was protect her. Be there for her when she needed me…when she needed anyone. But hearing her now, I realized I would’ve never been able to do any of those things. I’d held her back. I’d ruined her. And the only reason she survived was because I had turned my back on her. Abandoning her is what saved her. The realization hit me hard and made me feel weaker than ever before. “What about you? How did you end up here?” she asked with concern and curiosity in her tone. I didn’t want to tell her my whole sordid past, but I had to. She needed to know the road I’d taken to get me to where I was. After all, she’d told me hers. “Well, after the whole fallout with the school, I packed everything up, put it all in storage, and stayed with my parents for a little while. I ended up telling them everything, and even though they were disappointed in me, they said they trusted me, and if I’d fallen in love with a student, it couldn’t have been careless. And they trusted me enough to know I wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way. But even with their support, I began to drown in my own grief. I thought you threw me under the bus, so on top of losing my job, moving back in with my parents, and essentially starting all over again, I had to do so with a broken heart. “They finally kicked me out after two months of me doing nothing but moping around the house. They said they needed to be firm with me, otherwise I’d drift away into nothingness. I moved one town over, got a job that my dad helped me get doing landscaping, and spent my weekends at the bars. Weekends went from Saturday nights to include Fridays as well. Then I added Sunday afternoons. At some point, whether I got drunk or not, I’d pour a drink every night. Sometimes it was just something to drink, and other times, it was to numb the pain.”

“Pain from what?” she asked hesitantly. I shrugged. “From everything? From you, not teaching, being alone. Take your pick. I literally fell down the proverbial rabbit hole. When I was really lonely, I searched for someone that I could at least pretend made me feel the way you did. But no one ever could. No one laughed with me like you did, or made me smile like you could. After so long, I started to think you were a facet of my imagination. Every time I’d tell someone about you—about us—they’d say ‘women like that don’t exist.’ I started to think you were nothing but a dream that I’d always wake up from.” “I don’t understand, Axel. You left me. Why were you so heartbroken?” I leaned forward with my hand on the bed next to her, needing to be close enough to see the look in her eyes. “I didn’t want to leave you, Bree. That wasn’t by my choice. I never wanted to turn my back on you. But the way the school sounded that morning, I had nothing else to believe except that you’d told them everything. Well, mostly everything. I left thinking you’d turned your back on me.” “But I didn’t,” she whispered, her warm breath hitting my face. “I didn’t know that then.” “You could’ve asked me.” “As far as I knew, Bree, if I had gone to you, asking you what’d happened, you’d run back to the school and I’d look like a stalker. You have to remember, I was under the impression that you’d gone to them first. So going to you, asking you what you said, was not an option for me. Your mom would’ve come after me, and I wouldn’t have been able to get by unscathed.” “It’s weird how things work out, isn’t it? Because of a misunderstanding, both of our lives changed dramatically. You were always the strong one, and that one thing made you crumble. Yet the weak one grew wings and flew.” God, the image of her with wings like the angel she is, soaring above the tragedy, did something to me. It healed one of the many broken pieces inside. I locked eyes with her, our heavy breaths mingling in the small space between our faces. The heat surrounding my body grew, making my skin tingle. And then she spoke, her words dousing me like a bucket of cold water. “So you drank a lot? Do you still?” I shook my head before slowly backing away, realizing just how close our lips had become. “No. Almost two years ago, I decided I didn’t want to live that way anymore. It wasn’t like I drank all day every day, but I knew if I kept going the way I was, it wouldn’t be long before I’d get there. I didn’t want to completely waste my life or get to the point of no return. I missed teaching, and I’d never be able to do that again if I didn’t make a change. So I stopped drinking with the support of my sister. She and Danny ended up moving and took me with them. I lived with them, spending time getting my life straight, and helped them with their kids. Tracii’s the one that actually convinced me to teach primary age.” “How many kids do they have now?” “Two. Their oldest is six, just started first grade, and damn that little girl is smart. They had a little boy, who’s now three, and he’s one of the reasons I wanted to be a better person. Tracii and Danny stopped visiting me because they said they didn’t want the kids around my drinking. I guess I’d reached the sloppy stage, and they didn’t want the kids to remember me that way. So when I called Tracii and told her how I wanted to be sober, she didn’t even hesitate to offer her support. She offered me a room in their new house and told me that as long as I stayed away from the drinking, I could live there and work on getting my life back on track.

“I spent the first bit helping out around the house…cooking, cleaning, helping with the kids. Kind of like the housekeeper and nanny,” I said with a laugh, remembering that Danny had oftentimes introduced me to his friends as his manny. “And then I took the test to teach primary education. I loved being around my niece and nephew, and knew it was something I wouldn’t mind doing forever. Plus, it alleviated those pesky lines of right and wrong.” “I was so scared you wouldn’t be able to teach again.” Her whispered voice brought me out of my thoughts, reminding me where I was. “No. They didn’t fire me. I ended up leaving on my own accord—I resigned. So there was nothing they could really do. Apparently, they didn’t have enough on me to prove that I’d done more than befriend a student. And although it’s frowned upon, it’s not grounds for termination.” Her shoulders slacked and a sigh of relief left her lips. “I know you told me that you moved here for a teaching job, and then I saw you at Ayla’s school, but I didn’t know if you were allowed to teach because it was a different district. I didn’t know if it mattered.” “Had I been fired, no school would’ve touched me. I would have had my credentials revoked and my file permanently tagged. And I guess so much time lapsed between that nothing was reported when I applied for the position.” “So you’re here for good now?” I nodded, staring at the wall behind her head to keep from seeing her reaction. I didn’t want to witness her disappointment if she didn’t want me there. “I mean, I’m only a substitute. My job isn’t permanent by any means. But right now, in Ayla’s class, there might be a chance I could stay for at least the remainder of the year. I’m sure you’ve heard, her teacher suffered a heart attack over the weekend, and they’re not sure if she’ll come back. I’m filling in for her until a decision is made. And then I’ll find out if my position will carry into next year or not.” “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be her teacher.” “Why not?” I asked, feeling slightly offended. She tilted her head and regarded me with soft eyes. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea with everything we’ve been through.” I reached out and settled my palm against her cheek, feeling her soft skin beneath the pads of my fingers. “Bree, I promise it’ll be fine. I won’t show her any special treatment, or take anything out on her. You’ve taught me a lot, and one of those things is that no matter the situation, I need to remain professional.” “I know.” Her clipped tone implanted doubt and I didn’t know what my next move should be. But she didn’t bat my hand away or move back from my touch. Instead, she covered my hand with her own, holding my palm to her face. Her touch held just enough tenderness, giving me the courage to move in, albeit painstakingly slow, until my lips barely brushed hers. Testing the waters, still unsure of myself and the direction we were heading. It was so hard to go slow. For the minute my lips touched hers, a familiarity resonated within. And then I heard her slight intake of air. The sound of that one gasp was enough to send me over the edge, diving into the depths of the abyss. The memories of us swarmed me. I couldn’t stop myself from pressing my mouth into hers further, gradually leaning in until our chests collided. Worry over her pushing me away quickly faded the second her arms circled my neck, holding me to her. She held onto me as if I were something to be treasured. As

if she would never let go. I deepened the kiss, parting her lips with my tongue, and finally seizing what’s always been mine. I pressed into her until I had her on her back, my body gently covering hers. She adjusted her legs, automatically fitting them on either side of my hips as I nestled into her. I’d been in this position once before—in the back yard so many years ago—but this time, I had no intention of leaving our clothes on. I’d had many dreams over the years, wondering what it would be like to have her naked beneath me as I sank into her, watching the pleasure take over her features. And the mere thought of those dreams finally coming true had me hard as I rocked against her. My lips moved to her neck, and I tasted her sweet skin with my tongue. “If you’re waiting for me to stop this, Bree…it’s not going to happen this time. So if you don’t want this, you’re going to have to be the one to put an end to it,” I rasped into her ear as I kept up with the movements of my hips. She grabbed the sides of my face, bringing it to hers, and then thrust her pelvis into mine. “I’m not going to stop you, Axel.” That’s all I needed to hear.

I TRAILED MY LIPS DOWN her perfect neck, dipping my tongue into the crevice at the bottom of her throat. Her smooth, porcelain skin broke out in chill bumps as her breathing turned ragged, her chest heaving up and down beneath my face. I continued my trail to her cleavage and licked the tender area between her breasts. My mind might’ve been playing tricks on me, but it seemed as though they’d grown over the years. She’d never had a large chest, but she’d filled out more, enough to fill my hand. With each kiss, each swipe of my tongue on her skin, she held my head and encouraged me to move further down her body. By the time I made it to her stomach, my hands were beneath her shirt, lifting it up to expose more of her to me. I was so impossibly hard, looking at her from this angle and watching her stomach dip with my breath, that I feared I wouldn’t actually make it through the entire duration. Bree sat up, pushing me back with her body as she finished pulling her shirt off, throwing it on the floor next to the bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off her cotton-covered chest, and I became entranced the moment she reached around and released her bra. My breathing, which had been harsh and incontrollable just moments before, became stuck in my lungs, burning as my chest grew incredibly tight. The moment her bra fell away, I pushed my mouth back to her, latching onto her nipple with my lips, sucking, licking, toying with it as she writhed beneath me. And then I switched to the other, starting all over again. She tugged on my shirt until I sat up, unbuttoned it, and pulled it from my arms, then I dropped it to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. I grabbed the back of my undershirt and yanked it over my head, watching her eyes brighten. “You have no idea, Bree…” I growled as I made quick work of the button on her jeans. “I think I do, Axel.” She lifted her hips, allowing me to remove her pants easier. And then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. But I stopped her, grabbing ahold of her wrists. “Nah-uh. That’s my job. I didn’t wait all this time for you to take that from me.” I leaned down, catching the cotton material between my teeth, slowly dragging them down her legs before pulling them the rest of the way off. I trailed my nose up the inside of her leg, starting at her calf and ending on her inner thigh before taking over the path with my tongue. I slowly licked my way to where I wanted her most, taking in the heady scent of her arousal. “Axel…stop fucking toying with me,” she whispered hoarsely and let out a frustrated moan. She tried to regain control, pushing her hips into me, closing the gap between my mouth and where I knew she ached the most, but I held her down with my forearms while I continued to tease and torture her with my tongue.

“Bree, I’ve dreamt of this moment for over six years…don’t rush it, baby.” Her body squirmed beneath mine as her fingers gripped the sides of my head. “Well, I’ve waited just as long, so hurry up before I explode.” “Once I’m inside you…I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” I growled against her silky, wet core. I swiped my tongue up her slit, tasting her for the very first time, and immediately became an addict. Her whimper egged me on until I closed my lips over her clit and sucked. Her back arched, and the moment my fingers entered her, her gasp rang through the air, covered me in heat, and then infiltrated my body until my fingers relentlessly pumped inside of her and my tongue furiously flicked her hardened nub. It took seconds before she had my two fingers squeezed tight inside of her as she rode out her orgasm on my face. I slowed my pace, allowing her to come down so that I could lick her clean before trailing wet kisses up her stomach to her lips. Her hands wasted no time working my belt loose in order to remove my pants. I helped by kicking off my shoes so that she could finish disrobing me. I heard each shoe thud on the floor. She pushed down my boxers along with my slacks. Arms and legs were tangled and panting breaths were mixed as we desperately fought our way toward the same goal. She grabbed me roughly, stroking my shaft with frenzied hands as I poured everything I had into my kiss. I wanted to confess everything…tell her how much I loved her. Tell her how much I’ve always loved her and how I’d never stop. But I was too afraid that she’d clam up and put an end to our time together. She’d been so distant since finding each other again, and if this was how I had to get through to her— keeping my thoughts to myself—then I’d keep my lips on hers and my feelings locked tight inside. I could never bear to lose her again. Her hips lifted and she lined herself up with me. The moment I felt her heat surround me, she let up on her grip and I pushed inside, in dire need to be consumed by her warmth. But something was off…she went from desperate to panicked in a split second. I stilled inside of her, feeling her heated tightness grip my shaft like a vise. “Bree…baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I asked into her ear, unable to see her eyes since she had her face buried in my shoulder. “Please look at me, Bree. I need to see your face right now.” She pulled away slightly, enough so that I could see the glistening tears in her eyes. Her fingernails dug into the skin on my back, and her thighs clenched hard around my hips. “I’m okay.” “You don’t look okay.” I ran my fingers into her hair, holding her head to keep her from looking away. “You’re about to cry. Talk to me.” She shook her head as best as she could and then brought her lips to mine, giving me a gentle kiss. “I swear, I’m fine. It’s just been a really long time. I wasn’t expecting it…to be like that. Don’t stop. I promise, I’m okay.” Her body slowly relaxed beneath me and her fingers relented in their fight against the flesh on my back. I leaned down to kiss her once more, keeping my eyes open and on her face the entire time. “How long, Bree?” I moved my hips in an unhurried rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slowly slipping back deep inside her so that she could get used to me, underestimating what it would do to me. I was so turned on the movements were almost painful. “Since getting pregnant with Ayla.” Her whispered words pummeled into my chest, seizing my body and causing me to come to an abrupt halt. “Fuck, Bree. I don’t have a condom.” I nearly pulled all the way out before she wrapped her legs

around my hips, holding me in place. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” “I don’t know. We’ve both been with other people.” Her hands moved from my back to my face. “I used a condom…did you?” My mind was torn between answering her question and asking one of my own, so I compromised by nodding and then asking, “You used a condom? But then…” “It was defective. But I swear, he wore one.” The intensity of her stare proved that she wasn’t lying. But it did little to comfort me. “Axel, I don’t have any condoms here. Unless you have one, we either keep going like this and trust my birth control, or we stop.” With the intense sensation of being inside her, my mind fogged over as I relaxed my arms. I fell against her, thrusting fully into her warmth. Her gasp hit my bare shoulder, and her searing breath spread along my skin. I couldn’t stop, not after finally getting to this point, and I didn’t have any protection with me. So that left only one option, and that was to push forward. The pressure built up quickly in my lower abdomen, threatening to explode and burn me with it. I wanted Bree to come one more time before I finished, but with as fast as the start of my orgasm crept up, I didn’t know how possible that would be. But then she arched her back, pressing her slick chest against mine, and clenched her walls around my shaft. Her breathing stopped, she pushed her head into the pillow, and stretched her neck for me before letting out a low moan. I closed my lips over the area of her carotid artery, feeling her hammering pulse against my tongue. I sucked on her satiny flesh as I got lost in her. My thrusts turned ragged, and I spilled myself deep within her, giving her all of me. “Bree…” I whispered against her neck, collapsing on top of her. “Don’t say it.” She gasped for air and it made her sound as if she were pleading with me. Then she said something else, and it left no doubt in my mind how she felt. “Please, Axel. I know what you want to say. Just don’t.” I pushed off her, propping my torso up by my elbows so I could see her clearly. “What was I going to say?” If she had the nerve to tell me to keep my feelings to myself, then I would make her say it. Her head fell to the side and she stared at the wall on the other side of the room. “No, Aubrey. What is it you think I was going to say?” “I don’t know. But if you were going to tell me that you love me, just save it. I don’t need to hear it.” A single tear slipped from her eye and trailed across the bridge of her nose. “Then what the hell was this?” I knew my voice was harsh, probably too harsh for the moment we’d just shared together, but I didn’t care. Her head snapped back, her unrelenting stare meeting mine. “Hormones. Something we’ve both spent years dreaming about, and now we’ve taken the opportunity to fulfill those fantasies. I don’t know, Axel. But this isn’t the start of us. This isn’t our reunion.” “I’m still fucking inside of you,” I growled through clenched teeth. “You could’ve at least waited until I removed my dick from your cunt before closing the curtains on our moment.” I pulled out of her and heard her slight whimper, then I climbed off the bed and searched the floor for my clothes. “Axel—” “Save it.” I spun to meet her gaze, making sure she looked into my eyes as I spoke my next words.

“Deny it all you want. Force me away, cut me out of your life. Hell, run the other way when you see me, cross the damn street if you have to. I don’t care. But nothing changes the fact that I love you. Nothing. Not how things between us ended, not the last six years, and not your pathetic excuses. Nothing. I think you’re being a coward, because you’re scared of what we have. You’re scared of how good we are together. And now that you’re finally standing on your own two feet, it scares the shit out of you that you just might be dependent on someone for something.” She curled into herself, frantically attempting to cover her naked body. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I have my reasons.” Tears leaked from her eyes, but I couldn’t tell if they were angry or sad tears. “You knew me for about five minutes out of my whole life. Don’t pretend you know anything about me. Don’t pretend like you have any idea of who I am now.” Yeah, they were pissed-off tears. I dressed in jerky motions, not bothering to button and zip everything. “Keep telling yourself that, Aubrey. Whatever gets you through the day.” Without looking back, I grabbed my shoes, flung open her bedroom door, and got out as quickly as possible. She certainly had one thing right…I had no idea who she was anymore.

I managed to get through Tuesday and Wednesday despite the heavy fog that seemed to follow me around. I was fine during school hours, even with Ayla in my class, but once I no longer had the kids to occupy my mind, it drifted to darker places. I couldn’t get Bree out of my head. Even worse was when I’d lay down for bed. My body ached for her, and it transcended into my dreams. Parts of them were in her bed with her beneath me, and others were of us on my couch, my dick buried deep inside her as she held on tight to my neck. They blended together at times, unable to decipher what was real and what wasn’t. But one thing always remained constant…her sweet voice as she whispered into my ear how much she loved me, filling me with more emotion than one person was meant to have. It felt too believable, too honest and pure to be a lie. And then my eyes would pop open. Thursday seemed to be slightly better. The ache was still present, but my pride began to come through, convincing myself that she’d come around. I knew she wouldn’t be able to deny her feelings and escape me forever. Especially if her daughter was in my class. Not to mention, Fate had a way of stepping in when we were too stubborn to do it ourselves. As if I held some special ability to see into the future, Aubrey walked into my classroom, stunning me at the mere sight of her. The day had ended and all the students were gone. I had just finished putting the last of my things into my briefcase, readying myself to head home. “What’s wrong? Where’s Ayla?” I asked out of sheer panic that something had happened. Her shoulders weren’t straight and her eyes appeared tired. I worried that whatever had brought her to me was bad, but then she shook her head and came closer to me with her hands up. “She’s with my sister. I was heading up to see my dad. He’s out of ICU now.” I steeled myself, not knowing what to expect from her visit. “Okay. Then why are you here?” She took one more step and then dropped her arms, appearing defeated. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. You were right about me being scared. I am. I’ve spent six years believing one thing, going

about my life with certain opinions of you, and then you waltz back in and expect everything to magically be better. I can’t just forget everything that’s happened. You can’t just show up, make love to me, and everything miraculously work itself out.” I leaned against the edge of my desk, crossing my ankles in front of me in the hopes of not appearing as weak as I felt around her. She’d always thought of me as the strong one, and maybe in most aspects, I was. But around her, when it came to Bree, I was weaker than a stretched-out rubber band. “We’ve both gone all this time with beliefs and opinions of the other that were inaccurate. That’s why you shouldn’t push me away. We can get past it. We can figure it all out together.” “I know, Axel. I hear what you’re saying, and you make it sound so easy. But it’s not. What happened the other night…it was a moment of weakness.” “No, Aubrey!” I stood up straight, closing the space between us. “Don’t say that. You’re letting your fears get to you if that’s what you think. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is going to force us apart this time. You just have to give in and try.” “I–I just have to figure some stuff out. Okay? Can you at least let me do that? There are so many things I want to tell you, share with you. But I need a little bit of time. Ever since you came back into my life, things have been hectic. With my dad in the hospital, with work, with Ayla…I haven’t had a moment to figure anything out. And then you come over, we get lost in the moment, and it’s like everything has been swept under the rug. But one day, that rug is going to be pulled out from underneath us, and we’ll be knocked on our asses in a giant pile of shit.” “If you need time to sort it all out, then fine. But don’t expect me to vanish in the meantime. Don’t think for one second that I’m going to sit on the sidelines while you get over whatever it is you’ve been holding against me for years.” She rolled her eyes as if our conversation had exhausted her. “Can you please remember that I was seventeen when you left? That’s rather young. Add in how I’d never been in a relationship prior to that, I didn’t have an honest sense of love, and my mom had pretty much brainwashed me into believing I was a piece of crap. So keep that in mind when trying to figure out what I went through after you left. I thought you got what you wanted and then didn’t need me anymore. You made pretty promises, said the perfect words, and etched yourself into my heart. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. And then once you got what no one else ever could, you vanished. So pardon me for thinking the worst. Excuse me for having doubts and lingering resentment toward you that won’t just disappear with an orgasm.” “Is that really what you thought of me?” Bree laughed, but I could tell by her eyes that it wasn’t out of humor. “Coming from the man that thought I was the one that supplied the school with secrets about us. That’s rich, Axel.” “In case you’ve conveniently forgotten, I tried to turn you down. I tried to put an end to it. You’re the one that wouldn’t let me. You’re the one that pursued me and said you needed it. So how in the world could you possibly think that about me?” Her eyes scanned the ceiling tiles above us. “Insecurity, I guess.” “Like I said…we have a lot to move past. I don’t think it’s impossible.” “We’ve destroyed each other in some way. Why would you even want to be with me again? After all we’ve been through, why in the hell does it seem like a good idea for us to try again?” I reached for her hand, barely holding on to her fingertips but craving the connection. “We didn’t destroy each other, Aubrey. Society and circumstance did. I know better than anyone how devastating the

end was for us, but put that aside for a moment and think back to before that happened. Remember how we were in the months prior to it all imploding? We were good together. Great. And I know we could be even better now that we’re older.” “I know,” she whispered, lowering her head until her chin touched her chest. “So why not try?” “I didn’t say I wouldn’t try. I only need time to work some things out first. I won’t push you away while I sort everything out, but please allow me enough space to do this on my own.” Her sad eyes finally met mine, and I had no choice but to believe her. “But there’s a very real chance I will be the one to hurt you.” I smiled, despite the fact that her lips remained flat. “I highly doubt that’s possible, Bree.” She nodded and took a deep breath. With the slight hold I had on her fingers, I pulled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her, holding her tightly against me. It only took a second before she circled my waist with her arms and relaxed her body against mine. “Just so you know…I’ve always had a fantasy involving you, my desk, and a whole lot of moaning,” I teased into her hair. She leaned back and smiled, the comfortable easiness we always shared returning. The way her top lip nearly disappeared proved her happiness was genuine. God, she was always so easy to read. I loved that about her. Her hands caressed my cheeks before sliding into my hair. “I don’t know how I feel about the short hair,” she said as she studied me. “I couldn’t grab onto it the other night. I liked pulling on it before.” My abs clenched with a short laugh. “I know. How could I forget the way you held onto it like reins. Nearly yanked out every single strand. But since we’re being honest about hair…I don’t know how I feel about the brown.” I twisted a lock of her hair around my fingers, enjoying the silky texture. “I’ve always loved the red.” “Well, I hated it. And I’m so glad Ayla didn’t get it.” I pictured her daughter in my mind, thinking about her features. “She has some really blond hair,” I said with a chuckle. “But I have to admit, I don’t really think she looks very much like you. Are you sure you didn’t kidnap her?” Bree laughed and pushed away from me. “I’ve always worried that people would think that, but I can assure you, she’s mine. She is an even mix of me and her father. Perfectly balanced.” Her eyes twinkled with a tenderness that felt like a punch in the chest to witness. I didn’t want to think of the boy who had Bree, the one who gave her a child. I didn’t want to think about his genes merging with Aubrey’s, creating a perfect baby. But if I wanted to make this work between us, that meant Ayla would be part of the equation as well, and with that, I’d have to accept Aubrey’s previous union. “Speaking of Ayla…I’m going to ask the office if they can move her into another class,” Bree said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I don’t think it’s right for you to be her teacher.” “You can’t do that, Bree. There has to be a really big reason for them to pull a kid from a class and move them in the middle of the school year. Plus that would be really hard on her.” “It’s not the middle. It’s only the beginning of October. And if you want us to be together, it’s only fair. I’m sure the school wouldn’t want you dating a student’s parent.” She spoke with very even-toned logic. However, it infuriated me.

“Doing that will ruin any chance I have at a permanent job here. One week in and a parent is already requesting a class change? No. Absolutely not. You’re right, they wouldn’t care for a teacher dating a parent, but it’s not against policy. What’s more damaging is if you request a transfer.” “We’ve played with the lines once before, Axel, and we both got burned. This time, the situation involves my daughter, and I will not allow her to be caught in the crossfire. If you want this, then we have to play by the rules.” I dipped my head and ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to calm down my racing heart and see her logic. “Fine. I agree with you. But you said yourself that you need time to figure it out. Can we just wait until that point before making any decisions regarding school? For all we know, her teacher will come back and then this will be a moot issue. You’ve asked for time and I’ve agreed. So now, I’m asking for the same thing.” She pulled her shoulders back and nodded. Her pursed lips showed me that she didn’t like it, but at least she’d agreed with me. “Fine. But the moment we decide to take this thing between us seriously, and commit to being with each other, I’m going to the school office to request a change if you’re still in this class.” “I’ll go to them myself.” It was a lie meant to make me look good. Just the thought of going to the school office and requesting a student’s transfer because I was dating her mom made me nauseous. But at least I didn’t have to make the call then. I still had time to figure out a way around it. “Okay then. It seems like we’ve got everything figured out.” “I still want to bend you over my desk, Miss Jacobs,” I teased, hoping to lighten the air around us. Although, I wasn’t really joking. I really did want to take her again, not sure I’d ever have my fill of her. “Keep your thoughts to yourself, Mr. Taylor.” “I think we broke those rules years ago.” She winked and turned around to leave, stopping at the door. “Parent-teacher conferences are coming up. Make sure my meeting is the last one of the day.” And then she vanished, leaving me standing still in front of my desk with an impossibly hard dick.

BETWEEN BREE’S JOB AND HER FATHER being released from the hospital, we hadn’t spent much time together since her visit to my classroom. Her dad was released Saturday, so she’d taken the night off work to help him settle in at home. She then spent the entire day on Sunday at his house, so I didn’t get to hear from her until she called later that night after Ayla had gone to bed. “What’s the deal with your stepmom?” I asked, wondering why she needed so much help from Bree and her sister. “Robin suffers from severe migraines. She has to get Botox injections every three months to calm them. When she has flare-ups, they’re debilitating. However, for a week after she gets the injection, she suffers from a continuous headache. It’s not quite a migraine, but it’s enough to knock her down. She doesn’t drive when she’s like that, and stress only exacerbates them. Because of the wedding, she pushed the treatment back, not wanting to chance the headaches that weekend. So Monday morning, she went in for the injections. Dad’s accident set off a massive migraine, and she’s been suffering ever since. That’s why she’s had to rely on me and Sarah, since Clarissa is still on her honeymoon. I feel bad because we haven’t even been able to get ahold of Clari.” “Is there anything you need help with? Anything I can do?” “No, but thank you. Timing just sucks really bad. My parents have been there for us—especially for me with Ayla—that I’m glad I can give it back.” “Why does Robin get such bad migraines?” Bree groaned, and I could tell it was a topic she didn’t care for. “We don’t know. She’s had scans done, but they couldn’t find anything wrong. They have no idea why she gets them or what to do for them other than the Botox.” “Don’t tell my sister this…she might fake a headache to get Botox,” I teased. “Oh no…this is nothing like that. She gets thirty-one injections. Seven in the forehead, four on each side of her head, ten in the back, and six in her shoulders—three on each side. It’s very painful.” “Damn…all for a migraine.” “It’s not just a migraine. It’s chronic.” “That makes me never want to complain of a simple headache again. That’s got to suck.” I didn’t know what else to say, feeling as if I’d offended her without meaning to. “Yeah, tell me about it. Imagine how I was when I first moved here. I felt like I couldn’t say anything about my pregnancy aches around her. She never held it against me, or played the ‘I’ve got it worse’ card. But I remember times when my feet were so swollen I could barely walk, and she’d help me raise them

and bring me things to keep me off them, all while barely being able to see past her own pain.” “She sounds like an amazing woman.” “She really is. Apparently, she’d wanted my dad to get custody of me a long time before that, but he couldn’t. And I found out that they used to have a lot of fights over me. She’d get mad that he never called me very much, and he’d get mad that he couldn’t and take it out on her. It made me feel really bad to hear that.” Her voice was quiet, and the image of her lying in bed filtered through my mind. “She told you that?” “No. The girls did.” “How was that? Suddenly having two sisters?” I wanted to hear every detail. I wanted to know everything about her and her life since us. “Amazing. I was so scared before moving. All I could picture was Cinderella. I thought they’d be nasty, and that Robin would make me her bitch. But it was nothing like that at all. They all welcomed me in with open arms.” “I’m really happy for you, Bree. It makes me really happy to know that everything has worked out for you.” And that was the truth. “Thank you, Axel. I know it sounds really weird to say, but I don’t think I would’ve made it had you not left. It was a really shitty thing that happened, and I don’t like how it affected you, but I firmly believe that if one thing about us had changed, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have Ayla, I wouldn’t have my dad, Robin, or my sisters. My job sucks; I’m not doing what I want to do. And I’m living with my sister. I was a teen mom, money is tight, and sometimes I get lonely…but it sure as hell beats what I had to endure living with my mom. I was shown that there is an entire different side to life.” “Yeah. I know what you mean. It doesn’t matter what I went through, just as long as you came out a winner. My poor choices damaged me…but it didn’t kill me. At least I’m still here, and we’ve found each other again.” She fell silent for a moment, but then cleared her throat and said, “Axel? You said you drank a lot, and then decided to be sober. Did you go to rehab or anything? Or do you have to go to those AA meetings?” “I never went to rehab. I realized my ways before I’d gotten to the point where I needed to seek outside help. My sister and Danny were enough of a support for me. And I’ve thought about checking out some meetings, although I never have. For the most part, I don’t even think about drinking. Well, I didn’t until you showed back up.” “I make you want to drink again?” I let out a light chuckle, even though my situation was far from funny. “No. Not really. But you have to remember that I started drinking because I didn’t know how to handle the loss of you. I didn’t know how to sort through my feelings regarding everything that happened between us. So instead of being an adult about it, I decided to numb it, not wanting to deal with it at all. And then you came back and set me straight on everything I’d assumed before. It was like everything I thought I’d buried long ago has been dug up, and is now haunting me.” I paused to take a breath, organizing my thoughts. “But to answer your question, no. You don’t make me want to drink. I thought about it once. But I know better than to go down that road again.” “I’m glad,” she whispered. “You sound tired. I’m going to let you go.”

“Goodnight, Axel. I’m picking Ayla up from school tomorrow, so maybe I’ll see you in pick-up line. If not. I’ll call you after we come back from my parents’ house and she settles down.” I fell asleep, looking forward to seeing her after school the next day. The following morning, I found an unfinished kitchen table at the end of my street, and put it into the back of my truck on my way to work. I planned to take it to Bree after school and surprise her with it. The anticipation of giving it to her, and the look on her face is what passed the time quickly. With only ten more minutes left in the day, I went over some flyers that I put in the folders to send home with the kids. “This weekend, the kindergarten classes are having a father-daughter dance on Saturday night and a mother-son bowling game on Sunday. Your parents need to have the forms filled out and turned into the office by Friday.” “What if we don’t have a father?” one of the girls in the front row asked quietly. My heart sank for her, and I immediately thought of Ayla. “You don’t have to come with a father. You can ask your grandfather, or an uncle to be your guest. Maybe a grownup you’re close with.” The little girl smiled and went back to getting ready to leave. “We’re going to line up in five minutes, so make sure you have your folders and lunch boxes in your backpacks.” I turned and sat behind my desk, putting my own things away for the day. “My papa still isn’t feeling good. And I don’t have anybody to go with me to the dance.” A small, timid voice spoke up from in front of me, melting my heart. I glanced up and my heart fell as I saw Ayla standing in front of me with the saddest expression on her face. Her aqua-colored eyes seemed dull, not quite as full of life as I had become accustomed to. “I’m sure your friends won’t mind sharing their daddies with you. And I’ll be there for anyone who needs someone.” A smile lifted the corners of her tiny lips a little. “Listen to me, Ayla. I’m sure your papa feels real bad he can’t be there for you. But I bet he’ll make it up to you as soon as he’s feeling better. You two will have lots of adventures together, once he’s feeling well again. And as far as your dad, I think if he could, he’d love to be in your life.” I don’t know why I said that, maybe to make her feel better? Whatever the reason, it only made me question more. “Do you know anything about your dad?” “Mommy says I laugh like him,” she said with a brighter smile. “And what kind of laugh is that?” She ducked her head, hiding her rosy cheeks as her shoulders bobbed up and down with the quiet laughter that took over her body. “Well, I know one thing for sure…you blush like your mom.” “Mommy also says I talk like my dad, too.” “Oh, yeah?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. “And how’s that?” “She’s always correcting me. She says, ‘You sound like your father’ every time I say something grammarly wrong. But she doesn’t say it in a mean way. I think she likes it because she gets a real big smile and laughs. Oh! And I know his favorite music. She’s played me some of the songs, but some parts we have to skip over because they aren’t appropriated for kids.” She began to hum a familiar strand of Guns N’ Roses. The room suddenly became really warm and my body felt on fire at her words. “Ayla, honey…have

you ever seen a picture of your father?” “Mommy gave me a picture of him, but it’s not really of him.” “What’s it of?” “Weird eyes.” My heart raced in my chest. “What kind of eyes.” “She says they’re from a wolf.” My lungs refused to work and the room began to spin. My eyesight turned dark and spotted as my brain threatened to shut down. There was no way. It was impossible. Images frantically ran through my mind at warped speed: Her hands on my bare chest. My body between her legs as she sat on my kitchen counter. Her fingers working my belt. Me, telling her how we didn’t need to go that far. Her, telling me how much she needed to feel safe. Bandaging her back one moment, and then soothing her with my body the next. Me, giving in, pulling a condom from my wallet. Sitting on my couch. Bree on top of me. Her virginity. And then my mind ran through her words since I found out about Ayla. The things she’d told me about her father: He was just some kid from school. She was in a place where she needed him. The condom must have been defective. He gave her exactly what she needed. And that Ayla was an even mix of Bree and… I narrowed my eyes on the little girl in front of me, taking in her every feature and comparing it to mine and Aubrey’s. She had really blond hair—the color of mine as a child—yet it was curly like Bree’s. Her eyes were a bright, blue-green shade, the color you’d get when mixing blue with greenish-yellow. There were a few of Aubrey’s freckles on her nose—a nose that, now that I look at it, looks very much like mine—and her coloring was right in between mine and her mother’s, olive yet fair. How the fuck didn’t I see this before? Because you weren’t looking… Because you’d worn a condom that never ripped. “All right class,” I said, standing from my seat in the hopes of clearing the haze from my brain. “It’s time to line up.” All the kids grabbed their backpacks and lined up next to the door. I kept Ayla next to me as I walked them to the parent pick-up area in the back of the school. I didn’t have to be back there since the school took turns having different grade levels monitor the lines, and this week wasn’t kindergarten. But I wasn’t out there to work. I had something else on my agenda. The moment Ayla’s name was called, I escorted her to Aubrey’s car. I noticed the smile through the windshield immediately, right before she caught sight of me. That’s when her smile fell. She obviously saw the look of fury on my face. I opened the back door and waited for Ayla to climb in before tapping on the driver’s side window. “Take her to your sister, your parents’ house, I don’t care,” I growled into the open window, not caring that Bree’s face had gone ghostly white and still. “Just take her somewhere and meet me back at your house in thirty minutes.”

“Axel—” “You don’t get to argue with me. You don’t get a choice in this. Drop her off. Meet me in thirty minutes. Don’t make me wait, Aubrey, or I swear to Christ…” I let my threat hang, not wanting to finish it in front of Ayla. She was too small to hear the things I wanted to say to her mother—the things I needed to say. I couldn’t even look anyone in the eye on my way out of the school, worrying that they’d see the rage that burned inside me. My steps were hard and fast as I stormed to my truck, not paying any attention to the world around me. I had so many thoughts crammed inside my head, fighting for control, threatening to take me under. My mind became consumed with fear, worry, anger…any and every emotion under the sun, and it made my drive to her house pass by quickly. I paid no attention to the speed limit, couldn’t recall how many—if any—red lights I’d hit on my way. It was nothing but a blur. But by the time I pulled up to her house, throwing the truck in park, my hands ached from the way I’d apparently gripped the wheel with every ounce of strength I had in me. Bree wasn’t there by the time I pulled up, and I had to wait for her. The waiting only served to increase my temper, adding fuel to the fire as every moment passed. A fire that had been lit inside my chest and then, it’d burned into an inferno, causing my skin to blister regardless of the ice-cold air blowing through the vents as I waited. The time it took me to get there blurred, yet as I sat in my truck parked in front of her house, waiting on her to show up, I felt every painful second as it ticked by. Finally, her car pulled into the driveway. I didn’t wait for her to get out before stomping toward her. I didn’t wait for her to open her door before I grabbed the handle, swinging it open, nearly pulling it from its hinges. And the moment she stepped out of the car, I slammed it closed, rocking the entire vehicle on its wheels. I stalked toward her front door, not bothering to wait for her. “Axel—” I slammed my palm on her closed front door, immediately cutting off her words. Without turning to her, keeping my stiff back in her direction, I growled in the deepest, most angry voice I’d ever used, “Just open the damn door. Unless you want your entire neighborhood to know how pissed I am at you right now.” Her hands shook violently as her fingers attempted to work the lock. The keys dropped to the porch, and without the patience to wait on her, I picked them up and finished the job myself, worrying that the anger-fueled strength I used would break the key off in the deadbolt. I flung it open, marched inside, and paced the small living room with my head buried in my hands. I had so much to say, so many questions and thoughts I needed to get out, but they all fought for control. I couldn’t seem to organize anything in my head to get out what I needed to. Aubrey sat quietly on the couch, studying her twisted fingers in her lap. In one glance, my heart broke for her, imagining what it must’ve been like for her to be seventeen and pregnant. But the moment didn’t last long before I remembered her lies, her deceit, and that’s when the heartbreak quickly turned to betrayal. I stood in front of her, every muscle in my body twitching, as I bent down enough for her to feel my words. “I dare you to lie to my face, Aubrey. Look me in the eye”—I waited for her tear-filled gaze to meet mine—“and tell me Ayla isn’t my kid.” Her face scrunched with pain before she covered it with her hands. “Stop!” I grabbed her wrists and pulled them away, making her look at me. “You don’t have the right

to hide from me. You don’t have the right to cry. Look me in the eyes and tell me who Ayla’s father is.” She hiccupped a sob. “Tell me!” “You are!” she screamed through her tears, pushing me away and standing up. Getting in my face, finding her own anger, she yelled, “But you don’t have the right to question me! You don’t have the right to come in here and point fingers, assign blame, and condemn me. I’ve done it all on my own for six years, ever since finding out I was pregnant. I don’t need you.” Her voice may have been strong, and her body told of the fight she experienced inside, yet as if I could hear her thoughts, I knew she was anything but strong. My voice lowered, but it remained just as harsh as I said, “Don’t blame me for that. You chose to do it all by yourself. You chose to keep me out of it. So don’t stand here and act all justified for lying to me about her. Don’t act like I knocked you up and then split, making you do it all alone.” Her arms spread out and she leaned her chest in, as if ready for combat. “What was I supposed to do, Axel…put up a smoke signal, letting you know you had a kid? You vanished! You packed up your house and you left! You took that choice away from me.” My hostility deflated some, knowing she was right. In all the anger that boiled inside me about not knowing that I’d had a kid, I never once thought about how that must’ve been for her. I did leave, and I’d made it nearly impossible for her to find me. Not to mention, at that time, I had no idea about her mom and that her dad had taken her away, too. “Fine. I get it, I left and inadvertently forced you to do it all by yourself. However, you’re missing one very big, important key to this equation… You’ve known for a week and a half that I live here. I’ve known for a week that you even have a daughter. I’ve asked about who her father was, and you lied to me.” “I never lied to you, Axel. I just didn’t say it was you. I worded things in a way that you wouldn’t know it was you. You never asked me outright if she was yours, so I never lied.” Her voice had gone weak, the battle in her tone nearly disappearing, yet she remained strong in her plight. I laughed humorlessly at her mention of wording things. “Are you kidding me? We had sex once, Aubrey! I wore a condom. It didn’t rip. It wasn’t defective, as you stated before. I was never even inside of you bare until last week. Did the thought even cross my mind that she was mine? Maybe for a split nanosecond. But most of that was purely out of wishful thinking. Not to mention, I was sure that if she had been mine, you would’ve told me. We talked about having a family together—no! We planned that in our future together. So why in the hell would I question you when you tell me it was just some kid from school?” “Fuck you, Axel!” The tears came back, cascading down to her quivering chin. “You make it sound like it was just some random fuck. ‘It was one time. I wore a condom. It didn’t rip.’” She mimicked me with an emotionless attitude, trying to portray that I had said it like that. “It was my fucking virginity, asshole! I gave that to you. I trusted you enough to have it!” “Stop twisting my words. You know it meant just as much to me as it did to you.” “Do I? Do I really, Axel? Because right now, I don’t.” I took a small step closer to her. My anger still burned within me, but at the same time, I felt broken by her accusation—her belief that her gift to me meant nothing. “I remember that day so vividly. I remember the tears I shed after school over your pain—the one and only time in my adult life I’ve ever cried. Because of you. I can’t get the images of your back out of my head, even after six years. The way

you flinched when I cleaned your cuts, when I bandaged them. I’ve replayed every minuscule detail in my mind over and over again, to the point where I’d convinced myself that our time together on my couch had only been a dream. If I’d only wanted to fuck you, I would’ve done it in my back yard on prom night. I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I tried to push you away. I’d brought you home to clean up your back, not to take your virginity. And if it didn’t mean anything to me, I would’ve taken you in my kitchen, with you on the counter, instead of carrying you to the couch where you’d be more comfortable. I would’ve had you beneath me, not caring about your injuries. I would’ve taken charge instead of letting you lead the whole way. “That’s not how I’d wanted it to be with you for the first time. That’s not how I wanted you to give yourself to me. You were cut and hurt…you were in pain after suffering another round of abuse by your mother. That’s not how I wanted it to be between us. But the way you begged me to make you feel safe, to love you the way no other man ever would…I couldn’t say no. It was your gift to give, and I had to let you do it your way, accepting it without concern for the consequences. I would have rather waited until I could love you the way you deserved to be loved your first time. Had I known what would’ve happened that week at school, I never would’ve done it.” My voice had grown so quiet, so gravelly, I almost didn’t think it was mine. “That’s where we differ. Even knowing what happened after that, I still wouldn’t take it back. Ayla saved my life. I went to the hospital because I suffered from hyperemesis gravidarum. I couldn’t even keep water down, and I became incredibly dehydrated. Without that, I may have never found the right time to tell anyone about my mother’s abuse. I would’ve never gotten out from beneath her and come to live with my dad. So regardless of what happened or how…she saved me. And she’s a part of you. So in some tiny way, you fulfilled that promise. I have not one single part of me that would take that back if given the opportunity.” “That’s fantastic, Bree. I’m really fucking happy that it all worked out for you. My daughter saved your life, while mine fell apart. But that’s neither here nor there. Once again, we were fucked by circumstance. However, none of that excuses your lies—I’m sorry…omission of the truth. You had so many chances to tell me. Yet you chose not to. You chose to keep her from me.” “I needed time to work it out!” she screamed in my face, clearly out of patience. “I never thought I’d see you again, Axel. How was I supposed to know you’d show up in the same town I’ve lived in for six years? How was I supposed to know you’d wind up a kindergarten teacher? How could I have possibly guessed that Ayla’s teacher would’ve had a heart attack and you’d fill in for her? These things don’t happen in real life! I never needed to figure out how to tell you because I never thought I’d have the chance. So fucking forgive me for not knowing how to handle it!” “But at some point, Bree”—I drew my face dangerously close to hers, lowing my voice—“you were going to tell me. Once you worked it out. Once you figured out how to let me know that I have a kid. Did you happen to think about my reaction then? Do you honestly think that had Ayla not spilled the beans, and I heard it from your mouth instead, it would’ve made this better?” “I don’t know!” She shoved at my chest, knocking me back a few steps, and stormed across the room. “I was completely caught off guard, Axel. I mean, I woke up in your freaking living room for crying out loud. I was hung over and in shock of seeing you again. I didn’t think the salad dressing aisle at the super market made a good place to confess that sort of thing. And the next time I saw you, you were sitting with her! What do you expect?”

“Okay, fine. I admit you were taken by surprise. But what about at the hospital? What about after we came back here? We sat on your bed and talked about her. I asked you about her father. We made love. Why not then?” “You mean when I was worried about my dad?” I let out a frustrated grunt. “You didn’t seem so worried about him when you were naked beneath me.” “Fuck you!” Another thought shot to the forefront of my mind, causing me to ask it before giving it much thought. “You were more than okay having sex without a condom, letting me come inside you. How sure are you that I’m her father? Her last name is Bailey. Where did that come from?” “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I’ve had sex twice in my life…both times have been with you. I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t slept with anyone since the time I got pregnant with Ayla. You were inside me…how loose was I, Axel?” The room began to spin, causing me to sit on the couch before falling over. Just the thought of her remaining innocent for six years, while I went out in search of that feeling again with other women, made me sick to my stomach. She’d truly only given herself to me. And I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d let her down in some way, regardless if it had been unintentional. “You didn’t seem to mind fucking me without a condom, either. So don’t you dare point your hypocritical finger at me and call me a slut.” Her voice was loud, anger and offense burning hot in her words. I sat on the couch, my head turned toward her, needing to see her eyes. “Then explain her last name. Why isn’t it Jacobs…or Taylor?” “I told my dad that I couldn’t get ahold of her father. I knew who he was, but he moved shortly after I got pregnant, and I didn’t know how to find him. He told me to put his name down on the birth certificate anyway. That way, if he ever showed up, it would be less of a fight to get him to contribute. I didn’t want to list your name, because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I’d told the school that we were never intimate, and I worried what would happen if they found out. I was trying to protect you.” “So what name did you use?” I don’t think I blinked the entire time she spoke. “I just made one up. I told the nurses that I knew his name but none of his information. And that I couldn’t get ahold of him to find out his birthplace or any of the stuff I needed. They said to just put down what I knew.” Numbly, I stood up and stalked toward her. “So your family doesn’t know?” She shook her head slowly. “My dad has no idea. He found out about you after he came to get me, and didn’t have anything nice to say. He didn’t get it. He thought you were some pervert preying on a child, so I couldn’t tell him the baby was yours. He asked me when he found out, but I told him no. Sarah, on the other hand, she knows. We had to share a room since we’re almost the same age, and so we talked a lot. I told her all about you, about what we had, and how it all ended. She’s the one that told me to make up a name. So I did.” “Your lies have no bounds, do they?” Her eyes widened, burning bright with shock and indignation. “I did it to protect you!” “You did it to protect yourself!” My outburst stunned me, realizing that protecting her had been my number one goal all those years ago. All I wanted was for her to be safe, and she’d done just that. But the resentment took hold, overpowering logic in my mind, and wouldn’t let me fully process it all.

“Are you kidding me? What did I possibly have to lose by naming you the father? Nothing! The school and my dad already viewed me as a victim. Knowing you had sex with me and impregnated me would only justify that claim.” Back when she was my student, I’d always had a fear that I would be seen as the monster. That no one would understand how I felt about her. I wasn’t some middle-aged man, looking for a teenager fresh out of puberty. In fact, I wasn’t looking for anyone. I’d just started my career, happy to be doing what I loved— teaching. I’d never even dated a girl more than two years younger than me before meeting Bree. Hell, I was young myself. I was only twenty-four. Yet I knew, no matter how old I was, how old Aubrey was, and regardless of our relationship, I’d be deemed the bad guy. Having the school view me in such a manner was one thing, but to be seen as a pervert by her father bothered me. I had my own opinions of the man after learning how he’d skipped out on her when she was younger, and it only recently got better when she told me how he came after her, and the life he’d given her since…but I didn’t like knowing that he’d condemned me before knowing anything about me. “Did you think of me at all? Did you wonder for even one second how having a kid would affect me? How having a child—with you of all people—and not knowing about her…how that would’ve affected me?” “Every damn day,” she said, nearly breathless. “But there was nothing I could’ve done about it. Think about it for a second, Axel. You thought I ratted you out to the school. I thought you didn’t come back for me because you’d gotten what you wanted. I thought you turned your back on me, and you thought I stabbed you in yours. You disappeared, and so did I. How in the world do you expect things to be different when you put all of that against us?” She had a point, and I had to concede. “Fine. I get it. Once again, circumstances ripped us apart. It’s never going to end, Bree. I fell in love with a seventeen-year-old student, and because of that, everything fell to pieces. We were doomed from the beginning. But that doesn’t take away the fact that I have a daughter. We may never be together, we may never get our shit straight when it comes to us…but I have a kid. And you won’t take that away from me again.” “This is what I meant by needing time to figure it all out, Axel.” She fought with a strong, sturdy tone. “You’re her teacher now. What will happen to your job? You fought with me last week when I suggested requesting a transfer. That’s no longer an option anymore. You can’t be her teacher, regardless of our relationship. And my dad is still recovering. How in the hell am I supposed to spring this on him? The moment Sarah saw you here last week, she knew. She knew immediately who you were. We talked about it, and she even agrees with me. We have to take this serious and tread lightly. You want to just jump in and play the daddy. That can’t happen, Axel.” “Like hell it can’t! She’s my kid! I’m sure once the school finds out, they won’t think twice about it. They will have sympathy for me, and not hold it against me. And your dad? Like I give a shit how he reacts to it. He already thinks I’m a criminal. Let him think worse of me. But I can tell you one thing he won’t call me—a dead-beat dad.” I backed away, feeling my face burn with frustration, animosity, pain, and complete, unadulterated fury. “You want time? Fine. I’ll give you time. You have one week to figure it out. I don’t care what you tell him, how you explain your lies to him, but I will be listed as her father on her birth certificate. And she will know I’m more than Mr. Taylor. She will know exactly who I am to her.” Aubrey’s mouth opened and closed without a single word escaping. I didn’t care to watch it anymore.

Instead, I turned to leave, storming out of her door and to my truck on the road. As I looked in the rearview mirror, I noticed the blanket covering the table I’d picked up for her that morning. The same table I couldn’t wait to give her. So I got back out, yanked the blanket away, and with the force of my anger, I pulled it from the bed of the truck, throwing it in her front yard. Two of the legs snapped off as it landed on the grass. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care if she used it for firewood. I vowed that’d be the last thing I ever gave her. It began with my heart, and ended with a table. Both started out whole and sturdy, but left in broken pieces by the end.

I COULDN’T SEEM TO CALM down after leaving Aubrey’s house. My hands shook, my feet bounced, and my head throbbed. My chest burned, feeling as if a brick wall had fallen on me, yet my heart pounded away inside, threatening to break my ribs. I didn’t want a drink, but I couldn’t stop thinking about one. I couldn’t stop thinking about how just one drink would ease this pain inside, would numb this ache that threatened to swallow me whole. But I knew better. I’d come so far, accomplished so much, and knew that one drink wouldn’t be enough. With what I’d just been through, I wouldn’t be able to stop at the first. And now I had a daughter to think about. I had a real life to look forward to. And I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. As I drove around, attempting to lose some of the adrenaline that coursed through me, I ended up finding myself at my sister’s house. I didn’t even call her, not mindful of where I was headed until I found myself parked in her driveway. I sat in my truck, parked in front of her house, contemplating everything. She came outside and stood with her arms folded, throwing daggers at me with her stare. “I can only assume this isn’t good, brother bear,” she said as I stepped out of the cab. “You never drop by unannounced, and by the look on your face, I know this isn’t a friendly visit. If you have alcohol on your breath, you might as well turn around and leave now. But I swear to you, if that’s the case, and you get behind that wheel, I’ll—” “Tracii! Stop! I haven’t had anything to drink. You’re right, this isn’t a friendly visit…but I haven’t had anything to drink. I just need my sister.” The desperation in my tone echoed in my ears. I didn’t even have to wonder what my facial expression looked like. “Okay…” She relented, holding her palms up to calm me down. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to seeing you this way. It’s been a while, and I freaked out. Do you want to come inside?” I nodded and followed her in to the kitchen, taking a seat at the bar while she continued making dinner. No words were spoken for a few minutes as we let the air settle around us. She chopped away at her vegetables while eyeing me. “Do you remember the girl I told you about? My student? Aubrey?” “How could I forget? That girl demolished you,” she said, not stopping her task. “Tracii, please don’t go there.” I knew my sister didn’t care much for Bree, but I also knew that was only her protective side coming out. She hated what happened to me after that. And she had been under the same impression I was—that Bree had turned me in. But beneath it all, she knew how much I loved her, and because of that, she couldn’t completely hate Aubrey. “I need to talk to you about her, and I need you to stay levelheaded. Please. I’m already shaken up, and I need you to ground me. If you can’t do that…if

you’re going to do nothing but hate on her for what she’s done, then I’m going to leave. I need you to talk me off this ledge. And I came to you because I don’t trust myself with these thoughts I’m having right now.” She set the knife down, leaned against the counter, and met my gaze with hers. “Okay. You have my levelheaded attention.” I couldn’t hold back my laugh, and my shoulders bounced as the chuckle rippled through me. “I don’t think you’re capable of that, but thanks for the effort. Whatever you have to say about this, please keep my feelings in mind.” “I will, Axel. Now get on with it. I have dinner to make.” I rolled my eyes but set in to explain everything to her. I told her about the girl at the lake, how I’d gone there for a while and watched her. About the odd connection I felt with her, even though I had no idea who she was. Then I told her about the night I pulled her from the water, realizing who it was. “Was she trying to kill herself?” Tracii asked, coming to the same conclusion I had. “No. She was drunk and doesn’t really remember it.” “Oh…a drinker. That’s not good for you, Axel.” “She’s not a drinker. It was her sister’s bachelorette party. But that’s completely beside the point, Tracii. I can’t expect everyone in my life to never drink again. That’s ridiculous. Can we just stick to the story here?” I asked, watching her lips twitch with a smile she tried to keep hidden. I told her everything after that: having Ayla in my class, finding out her mom was Bree, our moment in the hospital, and our moment back at her house. Tracii had a few choice words about Bree’s reaction in the bedroom, but after a pointed stare from me, she stopped and let me continue with my story. She halflistened to me explain Aubrey’s surprise apology, and our decision to work things out. I could tell she had an opinion on it, but kept it to herself. In order to put off the inevitable confession of why I’d shown up in her driveway unexpected, I stalled by telling her of our conversations that weekend over the phone and the table I’d picked up that morning. “So at what point are you going to tell me that the kid is yours?” she asked after slamming the oven door closed and turning to me with her hand on her hip. “I’m not an idiot, Axel. The girl is yours, just tell me.” My head fell forward as I took in a cleansing breath, hoping to calm my nerves. “Yes. Ayla is my… daughter.” I glanced back up, catching the rarely seen sympathetic gleam in her eyes. “And let me guess…you’re mad at Bree for not telling you?” “Wouldn’t you be?” I sat up straight, suddenly feeling the need to be defensive. Tracii bent her head to the side, cracking her neck. That meant what she had to say wouldn’t be nice or pretty. “Did you expect her to wake up on your couch after nearly dying and say, ‘Thank you for saving my life, Axel. Oh, and by the way, we have a kid together’?” “No. But she’s had so many more opportunities since then.” “So many? You just told me it’s only been a week. And you described a handful of interactions.” “You’re supposed to be on my side, Tracii,” I said, my anger beginning to grow, only this time, my sister being the target. “I’ve had a kid for the last five years and never knew about her.” “Maybe if you hadn’t run away like a coward, then you might’ve known a little bit sooner. And then you wouldn’t have gone this long thinking the worst of the person you claim to love. And you wouldn’t have become an alcoholic. Stop blaming others, Axel. I understand that shit happens, and what happened

between you two is some nasty shit…but take some freaking responsibility.” “What happened to the sister that hated Bree a few years ago?” “I’m not saying Bree is innocent, and she is right in not telling you about the kid over the last week. But she’s not here to defend herself. You are. And years ago…all I had to go on was you telling me how she stabbed you in the back. I had to watch my brother fall apart over a girl. Of course I wasn’t going to like her. But now I know the truth, and it’s kind of hard to defend you against that.” “That doesn’t change the fact that I asked her who the father was and she never told me the truth. She led me to believe she fucked some random kid in school after I left.” Tracii looked around the room behind me. “Can you please watch your language?” She settled against the counter and crossed her arms. “How many times did you ask? And where were you when you did this?” I knew my answer wouldn’t sway her opinion. She’d only agree with Bree again. But I had to be honest with her if I expected her to help me overcome this. “When she came to pick Ayla up from school and I found out about her. That was the first time. And the other time was at her house after we came home from the hospital. Up until then, I thought she was married, so I thought her husband was the father. But when I found out there was no husband, I again asked who the father was. And again, she lied to me.” “All right…” She took in a deep breath, preparing for one of her famous lectures. “The first time you asked, you can’t be pissed that she didn’t tell you. I’m sure she was just as surprised seeing you with the little girl, as you were about her being a mom. Don’t throw stones, Axel. Now the second time, yes, she could’ve told you. That would’ve been a good time to drop the ball. However, I’m sure she was also emotionally spent after the ordeal with her own dad. Pretend to be her for a moment. Think about how scary it would be for you to tell the person you supposedly love that your child is theirs. Oh, and said child is five…not a baby.” “Crap,” I groaned, pressing my forehead to the counter. “Why must you always be right?” And why must I not believe it until my sister says the same things I’ve already heard? “It’s a curse…really.” I glanced up and raised a brow at her. “Okay, so you have a lot to think about. I take it you want to be in the kid’s life?” she asked and waited for me to nod. “That’s good. If not, I’d have to kick your ass.” “Watch your language,” I reprimanded her the way she had done to me. “It’s my house. I can say whatever I want. But I’m going to give you a bit of advice. I don’t know anything about this woman other than what you’ve told me. But I don’t think it’s best for you two to be in a relationship together at this point. You had some sort of heavy relationship years ago, and you both fell in love, hard and fast. But a lot has happened to you both since then. I’m not saying it wasn’t real, or that you can’t have that again. But listen to me, Axel, you both need time to heal first. After what went down between you two, you both took separate roads to get you guys to this point. Ride it out. Don’t go jumping medians to get to each other. If you’re meant to be…you’ll be.” I dropped my hands to the counter, feeling on the verge of giving up. Her words meant so much, and I understood what she meant, but it wasn’t that easy anymore. “I have a kid with her, Trace. What do I do about that?” “That’s a dumb question, Axe. Take care of her. Be a dad to her. Don’t just jump in, though. I’m sure you’ll confuse the crap outta the little kid if you walk into class and tell her to start calling you ‘Daddy.’

Go slow. With her and her mother. This girl has been doing everything on her own since day one. Don’t bombard her with your help, or you’ll just make her back off even more. And if you want to ever have a relationship with her, I suggest you don’t push her away. If I know you, then I can only guess you read her the riot act. Am I right?” I rolled my eyes, questioning why I’d even gone to her in the first place. “I was pissed, Tracii. What did you think I’d do? It’s like she’s been lying to me ever since I found her again. She let me think she was married, she—” “Oh my God, Axel.” She threw her hands up in the air dramatically. “So she wore a freaking wedding band. Do you know how many girls do that to fend off guys? It’s the oldest trick in the book. Did you ask her if she was married? Did you ask her anything about her husband? Or did you see the ring and make assumptions?” “It’s a wedding band! On her left ring finger! Anyone would assume the same thing!” I yelled, exhausted already from this argument. “But no, I didn’t ask. I didn’t think I needed to.” “That’s your fault for assuming. It’s her fault for not setting your assumptions straight. Do you see what I mean now? Neither one of you is ready for this relationship.” “I don’t even think I want a relationship with her anymore. I understand that she never broke my trust like I once thought. And I can understand why she kept Ayla from me. But that doesn’t change what happened. Sometimes in life, things are hard to admit, we don’t always have the best timing to tell someone something important, but that doesn’t excuse not doing it. The fact that I’m Ayla’s father doesn’t change depending on what’s going on in her life at the moment.” Tracii’s eyes softened and her head tilted to the side. “I understand, Axel. Really, I do. I get your pain and your anger. I know you’re feeling betrayed by the only person you’ve ever loved that much. I can also understand where she’s coming from, without ever meeting the girl. We’re talking about a kid here, and the decisions made about that can’t be taken lightly. Bree has a daughter to worry about now. She has another life to protect. Maybe she was only waiting until she knew she could trust you again.” “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Because I can’t trust her.” “I really wish I could just smack the both of you.” She shook her head with a smile on her face. “Give her time to settle down…I’m sure she’s up in arms right now after your wrath came down on her. Don’t call her or go after her. Let her come to you. And when she does, listen to her. Don’t argue or raise your voice, don’t escalate the situation any more than it already is. Just listen. Hear her out and put yourself in her shoes. You can’t expect her to understand where you’re coming from if you can’t offer her the same in return.” I stared across the counter at my sister, into the eyes that were exactly like mine. People say twins are connected for life, and sometimes I didn’t believe that. But in moments like these, when it felt like she was the only one who really knew me, I couldn’t deny that connection. God could come to me Himself and tell me something, but for some reason, it wouldn’t click in my brain until my sister repeated the same words. “Okay, fine. I get it. I came down a little hard on her.” “And you had the right to, Axel. I couldn’t even begin to understand what that must’ve been like for you to find out you have a kid, with the love of your life, and never knew it. But she also had the right to keep her daughter to herself for a little bit longer. I’m sure you showing up out of nowhere was just as intense for her as it was for you.”

“Do you really think she’s the love of my life?” “You’re the only one that can answer that, brother bear. All I know is…everyone and their mother tried to separate you two. You’ve had the weight of the world stacked against you both since the very beginning. Yet here you are, living in the same town, both parents to the same little girl. I don’t know of a bigger, brighter arrow than that.” “Do you think we can overcome this?” “Overcome what? The massive amounts of miscommunication between you both? Sounds like you’re already wading through it, finding out the truth behind it all. And it’s only been a week.” “What do you think Mom and Dad will say?” She laughed and gave me a sympathetic smile. “They’re totally gonna kick your ass. You told them you never slept with her. Kinda hard to explain that one now, huh?” “Yeah…” I ran my hands through my hair, feeling completely deflated. “Any way she’s not yours?” Her question caused my head to snap up, and I glared at her. “Maybe. I don’t know. I have zero doubt, if that’s what you’re asking. But I didn’t ask for a paternity test or anything. She doesn’t exactly look just like me, but if you take me and Bree, smash us together and shrink it…you have Ayla. Her skin is a little lighter than mine, but a little darker than Bree’s. Her eyes are bluish-green, like if you’d mix my color with hers. I mean, she’s such an even mix that without looking, you wouldn’t be able to tell who she belongs to. But if you pick her features apart, you can clearly see where they come from. And I swear, she has some of my mannerisms that I thought was odd when I saw them, but never thought to question it.” “Like what?” “We were sitting in the hall one day, and she had her legs crossed like me. I thought she was just mimicking me, but now that I look back, I doubt she even knew what she was doing.” “I’m going to ask a very personal question, and I only want the straight answer. No details. Got it?” she asked, and I nodded even though I knew what she was going to say. “Did you wrap it up with her?” “Yes. I swear it. That’s the reason why I never really thought Ayla was mine. I mean, I know condoms aren’t foolproof, but I at least assumed I would’ve known if there was an issue with it.” “I said no details. But thanks,” she said sarcastically, turning her back to me so she could start cleaning the dishes she had used for prepping dinner. “But keep in mind, Axel, all it takes is one tiny hole in the rubber to make it ineffective.” I knew she’d gone to the sink to keep her back to me for this conversation, which I was totally fine with. I didn’t necessarily want to look her in the eye while talking about sex, either. “But wouldn’t I know? I mean, I certainly didn’t stab my condoms with a pin.” “No…and I would hope you wouldn’t do that. But if you carried them in your wallet, imagine all the things that could’ve poked it. Not to mention, they do expire. Maybe it was old and you didn’t know. Maybe while putting it on, it got snagged on your zipper or something.” She spun around with wide eyes. “Okay, enough talking about this. All you need to know is that there are plenty of reasons why it could’ve failed. You slept with her—probably not the best idea given she was a minor and your student—and now you have to live with the consequences of what happened. And what happened after that was she got pregnant and had to raise the kid for the last five years all on her own. And you can’t fault her for not confessing that to you the second you popped back up in her life. Now…are you staying for dinner or not?”

Tracii had a special way of making it known when she was done with a conversation. It wasn’t always subtle. In fact, it was rarely subtle. But despite her borderline rude attitude, she was genuinely a good person. And that was why I ended up at her house when I was too lost to know where to go.

For the remainder of the week, I struggled with my emotions. I’d be fine, going about my day like normal, and then get an urge to call Bree. I didn’t know what I wanted to tell her, or why I even wanted to call, but I’d literally have to make myself do something else to keep my fingers from dialing her number. Ayla had come to class every day, clearly oblivious to our connection. I didn’t even have to ask to know that her mother hadn’t told her anything about me. And that only made me want to reach out more, asking Bree if she had given it any thought at all. I wanted to believe that she had, and that her decision would be in my favor, but I couldn’t help the worry that possessed me at the thought of her keeping Ayla from me. By Friday, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. But instead of calling Bree, knowing that wouldn’t end well, I decided to call my parents. They lived four hours away, so I couldn’t very well just stop in and talk to them face to face. A phone call was my only option. My mom answered the phone, giving me her usual update on life and the happenings around them, but once she finished filling me in, I asked that she get Dad on the phone, as well. That’s when she turned quiet, and I knew she could tell something big was about to happen. “I just want to start off by saying I’m fine. My job is going good and no one is dying,” I said after my dad picked up the line, hoping to calm some of their worry. “But I do have some big news I wanted to share with you guys, and I don’t know how you’re going to take it. Bree—the student from years ago that I had the relationship with—lives here. Before you say anything, I had no idea before I moved here. In fact, we’ve been living in the same town for six months, and we never realized it until two weeks ago.” “Just spit it out, Axel,” my dad said harshly, not one to deal with stalling. “Well, we ran into each other, and it turns out I’m subbing for her daughter’s class. I didn’t know she had a daughter until then.” I paused, finding my courage to continue with what I had to say. “I know I told you guys that we were never intimate, but I was too scared to tell you the truth.” Silence filled my ear. “I found out that she’s also my daughter. Bree and I have a child together,” I said through a tight throat, nearly choking on my words. “So you slept with a student? Your student?” my mom asked angrily. “It wasn’t like that. We shared a connection…a life-altering connection. We were only intimate one time, at the very end. And it was real, for both of us. It’s not like we snuck around all the time or that I took advantage of her. It was a very personal moment for us both.” “A very personal moment that probably destroyed the poor girl’s life. A very personal moment that nearly destroyed your life. Or have you already forgotten that? Have you already forgotten that your moment of weakness, and her betrayal, caused you to lose your job with the high school? That it caused you to drown yourself in bottle after bottle of alcohol?” Luckily, my dad interrupted and urged my mom to calm down. He didn’t speak into the phone, but I could hear his even mumble through the line, and knew what he’d done. He’d given me a moment to

compose myself, and offered my mom a chance to breathe properly. “No, Mom. I didn’t destroy her life. As strange as it sounds, it actually played a really big part in saving her life. It got her away from her mother, and back into her father’s life. She’s very different now than she was back then. And she says it’s because of Ayla.” “Ayla? That’s her name?” My mom’s voice sounded broken, heavy with emotion at the mention of her granddaughter’s name. “Is she a Taylor?” “Her name is McKayla, but no, she’s not a Taylor. Bree didn’t give her my last name out of fear I’d get in trouble. But I’m working on that. If I have my way, she will be a Taylor.” “You gonna do right by her, son?” my dad asked, finally speaking up, the emotion in his voice just as heavy as my mom’s. “If you’re asking if I’ll take care of my daughter, the answer is an infallible yes. But if you’re wondering about the future of Bree and me, I can’t give you that answer. It’s only been a couple of weeks since we’ve been back in each other’s lives, and it’s been really rocky. I don’t know where her head is at, and I don’t want to push her.” “Where is your head at, son?” I ran my fingers through my hair, the length finally long enough to grab some. “In regards to Bree? I don’t know, Dad,” I said with a deep sigh. “I can’t even begin to give you an answer. The last time we talked wasn’t very pretty. I think we both have a lot to work through, not only with each other, but with ourselves, too. There is a big issue with trust between us.” “Well, you’re talking about another person involved, as well, an innocent child, Axel.” My father’s loud voice boomed through the line. “It doesn’t matter how you feel about her mother right now, or even how she feels about you. You both need to get your heads out of your asses and think about what’s best for that little girl.” “Axel,” my mom said, her melodic voice a massive contrast to my dad’s. “We trust you, honey. While we don’t agree with the decisions you’ve made regarding Bree, we trust that you know what you’re doing. But you can’t call us up, tell us we have another grandchild we know nothing about, and expect us to be calm about it. You made a mistake all those years ago and—” “No, I didn’t make a mistake, Mom. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and even though a lot of unnecessary things happened following those decisions we made and the relationship we both willingly entered, I don’t regret it at all.” “Sounds to me like you know what you want,” my mom said, sounding very assured in her words. “But knowing you, you’re too stubborn, and maybe even a little scared to go after it. You’re not her teacher anymore. She’s no longer your student. You’re both adults and free to work things out. Stop letting the past hold back your future. You have a daughter to think about now. You can’t afford to waste any more time.” I nodded, knowing she couldn’t see me, but it was all I could do with my words caught in my throat. I’d accused Bree of being a coward, and yet there I was, doing the same thing. I had allowed my anger over the entire situation—over everything that had ever happened to us—keep me from seeing the bigger picture. I had a daughter. And her mother would always be in my life. It just came down to how I wanted her in it. I couldn’t allow my fears of the truth, of our past, of our connection, to keep me from feeling.

I hung up the phone, promising to keep them informed on Ayla and Bree, and gave into my thoughts. I laid down for bed that night, allowing my mind the free reign to feel it all, to go back to the first time I’d set eyes on Bree. The first time I saw her smile. And to the time I realized I loved her. I let it drift to the day she gave herself to me, the way she looked into my eyes and told me how much she loved me. How I’d held her shaky body as she straddled my hips, and promised I would always protect her. And then I thought back to the day I walked away, hearing her cry out for me. I allowed myself to remember the way her voice sounded—so desperate, so scared—and how I had to fight with every ounce of strength I had to not turn around. But no matter how I felt while reliving those moments, nothing compared to the emotion that filled me as I pictured her eyes, those bright-yellow wolf eyes on the dock after I pulled her from the water. Her hair plastered to her face, the fear in her eyes, the panic in each frantic breath she took. Because I’d felt it, too. I just hadn’t allowed myself to accept it. I’d always been the strong one between us. I’d always been the one to save her, protect her, and nothing made me feel weaker, more scared, than looking into those eyes after all that time. We had the power to save each other…yet we also had the ability to bring the other to their knees. When you have love as strong as ours, it can be amazing, powerful, life-changing. It can also be devastating, crippling, and destructive. It’s all in how you take care of it. I hadn’t taken care of it back then. I didn’t protect it the way I should have. I had allowed myself to put us in a position that led us to being discovered. That one choice, that one simple, mindless mistake, tore her away from me. I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened had I never stopped at that dollar store. Had I never kissed her before going in. But it did me no good to question that. We flourished in the shadows. We existed in the secrecy of our relationship. But the real question was…did we have what it takes to grow in the sun, to survive in public when we have no oppositions but ourselves? And more importantly…did I want to find the answer?

I ARRIVED AT THE FATHER-DAUGHTER dance early to help set up and get the school’s gym ready. My nerves were fried, my stomach twisted in knots, wondering if Bree would bring Ayla. One of the administrators had the list of students that had brought back a signed form, but I couldn’t find it in me to ask if her name was on that list. So I swallowed my anxiety and focused on setting up the gym. Before I knew it, kids filtered in the doors, followed by their dads. The little girls wore frilly dresses, and most of the men accompanying them dressed in slacks and ties. Some of the girls even had flowers on their arms, which I assumed came from their fathers to help make the night special. All around me, I had signs of the things I could have, if only I went after it. Everywhere I turned, I had a reminder of what awaited me…as long as Bree brought Ayla. The flow of arriving people slowed, only a few trickling in from time to time. My hopes began to diminish, fear setting in that Aubrey wouldn’t let me be the man I wanted to be. She wouldn’t allow me to be the father I’d hoped to be. But I had to keep up appearances, not letting it get me down in front of my students and peers. In a crowd of people by the refreshments table, I felt a tug on my arm. I glanced down, thinking a child wanted something to drink, but to my surprise, I found Ayla standing there. “Where’s your mommy?” I asked, kneeling down to her level, trying and failing at keeping the overwhelming smile from taking over. “She walked me in and then left. She told me to come find you. Are you going to be my daddy for the night?” My heart picked up its pace and drummed against my ribcage. “Ayla, sweetheart, I’ll be anything you want me to be.” A huge smile stretched across her face, causing her upper lip to nearly disappear. It was Bree’s smile, and it filled me with happiness. She wore her blond hair pulled out of her face, and it only made her look even more like her mother. God, I wanted to hold her and never let her go. “You look very pretty, Ayla. Is this a new dress?” I asked, fingering the material that hung below her knees. It’s the only thing I could do to keep myself from pulling her into my arms. She nodded eagerly. “Yes. Nana bought it for me. She said every princess needs a new gown for the ball. Am I a princess, Mr. Taylor?” “Of course you are, Ayla. Princess Ayla,” I said with a wink, fighting with all my strength to not say more. I wanted to call her my princess. And that’s when I remembered the fairy tale Bree told me on the night of her birthday so many years before. I wanted that to come true, but I didn’t know how.

Before we could say another word to each other, one of the administrators called for everyone’s attention. They were starting the hula-hoop dance. Ayla’s eyes lit up with excitement as she ran to the gathering crowd of kids. I watched her the entire time, fascinated with her. While waiting her turn, she engaged in conversation with some of her classmates, and other girls that were not in her class. It filled me with a sense of pride, observing her in her own element. And it made me think of Bree, of how she’d missed out on this in her youth. Seeing Ayla, looking so much like Bree in that moment, made me sad for the way Aubrey had to grow up. I’d always seen her as a lost and lonely seventeen-year-old. But that was only a snapshot of her life. I’d never fully imagined how things were for her when she was Ayla’s age. Nor had I really allowed myself to accept the person she’d grown into. The girls took turns with the hoops, twirling it around their hips a few times before it’d fall to the floor, all while “Twist and Shout” played through the speakers. Once it was over, Ayla did something I hadn’t expected. She ran to me and jumped in my arms, holding on tightly. I held her to me, wanting that moment to last forever. But I had to let go, and when I did, her face came into view, the biggest smile I’d ever seen plastered to her face. Regular music began to play and Ayla wanted to dance. I set her down and walked with her to the middle of the gym where the crowd had gathered. She glanced around at the other little girls, and without prompting her to do so, she held my hands and stepped on my toes. “Have you done this before?” I asked with a grin. “You’re quite good at it.” “No, not like this.” “Well, you’re a very good dancer, Ayla. Maybe you should be a ballerina when you grow up. How does that sound?” Speaking to kids her age wasn’t strange for me. Even before teaching younger students, I had my niece that could carry on an entire conversation with a brick wall. So this was nothing new for me. What was new, was talking to my own daughter about her life. “No. I don’t want that. I want to be the president.” My eyes widened in surprise at her words. “Of the United States?” “Yeah,” she said with an eager nod and bright smile. “I want to make rules and have my own airplane.” I couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled inside my gut. “That’s rather ambitious of you. What kind of rules would you make?” Her smile fell as she glanced around at the other little girls dancing with their fathers. “I’d make a rule that no one can take daddies away.” “What do you mean?” My heart stilled in my chest and my movements slowed. She looked up and met my eyes. “Mommy said I don’t have a daddy because people made him leave. She said they didn’t want her to marry him. But she has me, and I’m the most important part of him, and they can’t ever take me away. But sometimes, I wish I had my daddy. You know? Like the other kids.” I reached down and picked her up so we were eye level. “Those people who made him leave were just following rules that are in place to protect little kids.” “I know. That’s what Mommy says, too.” “What else has your mother told you about your daddy?” My stomach twisted in anticipation of her answer. With an impish scrunch of her nose and twinkle in her eyes, she said, “That he’s really really really handsome. And super smart. And she loves him forever.” Her words made my heart swell in my chest.

“Would you like it if he came back?” Her eyes grew large, sparkling in the bright lights of the gym above us. “Yeah! Do you think he will? Do you think he’ll love me like he loves my mommy?” “I know he already does, Ayla.” She wrapped her tiny arms around my neck, squeezing me with all the strength she had in her. It warmed me, and solidified what I knew in my heart that I had to do. There were no more questions in my head, no more concerns that weighed me down. I had not one ounce of confusion or worry. Bree and I had once upon a time dreamed of our future. We’d made plans of a family—a real life together. And then circumstance came in and woke us up, taking away those dreams until they’d almost become a faded memory. But no matter how different those plans came to life, no matter how badly things had been turned around, I wouldn’t let them die. By the end of the dance, I held Ayla’s hand outside of the gym, waiting for her mother to pick her up. I didn’t have to wait long, seeing Bree make her way through the bodies that gathered. Her eyes wouldn’t hold mine, and I could see fear and nervousness in the way they flickered about, landing on everyone and everything but me. As soon as she grew close enough to us, I leaned over and picked Ayla up. And then I reached out and grabbed Bree’s hand, not giving her a moment to object. I pulled on her, feeling her hesitant steps behind me, and led her out to the parking lot. Meanwhile, Ayla talked nonstop about the dance and how much fun she had. When we reached Bree’s car, I stood back, giving her space to open the rear door. I set Ayla down and watched as she climbed into her car seat in the back, pulled the seatbelt over her chest, and locked it in place. Bree gently closed the door. She spun around, faced away from me, and cast her gaze downward, as if she were unsure of what to do next. “I’m going to follow you home, Aubrey. And then we’re going to talk.” I didn’t ask her, or give her any options. I didn’t want to chance her coming up with an excuse or telling me no. “Sarah is out of town, and it’s too late to take her to my dad’s house.” “She can be there. It’ll be fine. No arguing, no raised voices. Just talking. Me and you, like adults. I have so much I need to tell you, and we have so much to figure out.” With a deep breath, her shoulders rose to her chin before falling flat again. Her eyes finally met mine as she said, “I don’t know, Axel…” I held her upper arms, keeping her facing me. “No, Bree. This isn’t an option. We have to work this out. We have to deal with this like mature adults. Regardless of how we got here, or what’s keeping or has kept us apart, we have to deal with it. We can’t hide from it or let the fear keep us from it any longer.” She nodded and dipped her head, breaking eye contact. “Okay,” she whispered as she pulled away from me. I hesitantly let her go and slowly backed away. She silently climbed into her car. I kept my eyes on her, not fully turning away, and made sure she wouldn’t back out, but then I saw the reverse bulbs light up. Prepared to get to my truck and make my way to Bree’s house, I noticed one of the administrators staring in my direction. Her eyes were squinted, as if attempting to figure out what it was that she saw happening between us. I wanted to leave, not bother with the politics of it all, but once again, I was faced with having to save my job. I stalked over to the woman, keeping my head bowed but my eyes lifted and focused on her. “I know what this looks like, but I promise you, you can’t even begin to understand the

circumstances,” I said quietly after approaching her. She nodded, seemingly understanding. “Okay. I wasn’t going to make any judgments until talking to you about it. Maybe we can discuss it on Monday?” Her tone held no warning of accusations, and left me to believe I had nothing to worry about. But that in itself had me worried. “I would love to explain everything to you and the principal then. I just have to get all the answers myself. What you just saw…this didn’t start recently. She is someone from my past, and—” “Mr. Taylor, it’s fine. Really. You don’t have to explain anything to me right now. You’re only a substitute. But regardless of that, dating a parent isn’t grounds for termination, although it is something the school would need to know. And on Monday, we will talk about it further so we can all be on the same page.” I left her with a smile, feeling slightly paranoid, yet oddly at ease. My chest ached the entire drive to Bree’s house, which wasn’t far from the school. I knew the things I wanted to say, but not the specific words. I knew what outcome I wanted, but hadn’t given any thought as to how I would approach it. The drive didn’t offer any comfort, and only served to increase my anxiety. Bree was inside by the time I pulled up in front of her house, but she came to the door before I even knocked. She silently welcomed me in with an outstretched arm, barely able to meet my gaze. “Mr. Taylor is here!” Ayla excitedly yelled, jumping around the room. “Yes, he is. Mommy and…Mr. Taylor have to talk. So why don’t you go get ready for bed? Take a shower and wash your hair please. You can come say goodnight to him before he leaves.” Hearing Bree speak to Ayla relaxed me some, gave me a sense of ease, and lessened the apprehension simmering inside me. Once Ayla left the room, I said, “I’ve thought a lot about our argument—” “Axel, please…before you start, let me say something.” Bree held up a hand as she interrupted me. She walked to the couch and sat down, waiting for me to follow. “You make me feel like two different people,” she started with a shaky voice. “Even back in school, it was like you saw one version of me, yet I felt like a totally different one.” “I don’t understand, Bree.” “You fell in love with me, but sometimes I think you only fell in love with the person you thought I was. The person I was back then. Like it was some fantasy. I was broken, lost in the world without a clue as to which way was up and which was down. And then you came along, and I became a deer in headlights with you, completely consumed by you. “You said before that I had the soul of a wolf, fierce and strong. I never felt that. I never believed I had that in me. And if I’m being rational and realistic, I think that’s what you fell in love with all those years ago. You fell in love with the she wolf. She sucked you in, tempted you, and you fell for it—for her. And I think that we’ve both kind of become frozen, stuck in that moment of our lives, loving the other despite everything. That’s unrealistic, Axel. Because I’m not the wolf hidden beneath Little Red Riding Hood’s cloak.” I shook my head, straining to comprehend what she was saying. “Bree, why can’t you see it? Why is it so difficult for you to believe that you are the person I’ve always seen? You are the strong, capable, determined wolf behind your eyes. I mean, look at you. Look at where you’ve gone, what you’ve overcome. You said yourself that you’re strong…you’re not the same person as before.” “I know that, Axel. I know what I’ve made of myself and how far I’ve come to get here. And I’m not

saying I’m still the weak girl you met on that first day of school after Christmas break. I’m stronger than her. But that doesn’t mean I’m the person you fell in love with, either.” “Okay, now it’s my turn. Yes, we have probably both been frozen in time, refusing to let go of the feelings we shared years ago. We’ve both been faced with mountains and obstacles and things being thrown at us. But we’ve survived it all. And we’ve managed to come back together in the end. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Stop telling me who or what version of you I fell in love with. Because the answer is…I fell in love with them all. I still love every single version of you. The mom, the woman, the sister and daughter. I love them all. I love the wolf inside, the one that shines in your eyes. I love the scared little girl that shows in your quivering lips. I love the fighter, the survivor that shows herself in the scars that mark your body,” I said, lifting my finger to run it along the faded scar above her eyebrow that had started it all for me. “So stop telling me that you’re someone other than the person I see when I look into your eyes.” A tear slipped past her lower lashes and ran swiftly down her cheek before being caught by my thumb. “You don’t get it, Axel. I’m not her. I do what I have to in order to keep going. I put one foot in front of the other. I live for my daughter, and do everything with calculated precision with her in mind. She needs you in her life. She needs her father. I won’t keep you two apart any longer, and if you want her to have your last name, then I will do what I have to do to have it changed. I think that’s an important first step for all of us. And I think it will help open your eyes to the fact that we’ve been stuck in this lie we created years ago, too weak to admit that we were wrong.” “No, Aubrey,” I said sternly, with a harsh tone that let her know my true feelings. “The only one in denial here is you. You’re letting everyone convince you of everything we fought against when we were together. We knew back then what stood in our way, but we didn’t care, because the only two people that knew what she shared were us. And I refuse to let you forget that.” She shook her head as the tears rolled out faster. “I don’t need you to keep saving me. Eventually, you’re either going to get tired of it…or I’ll no longer need it, and then what will we have left?” “I’m not in love with you because you need me. I’m in love with you because I need you. Because you save me. Because you make me weak where it counts, and make me stronger when it’s important. You balance me out and make me whole. Without you, I’m nothing but a broken heart, a lost soul searching for its missing piece. I don’t want to live like that anymore, Bree. I want to live it with you. I want to lean on you in the moments you’re strong and I’m weak. And then I want to hold you when the tables turn.” “But we’ve both changed so much,” she whispered, hanging on to her fight. “And we’ll continue to change. We’ll continue to grow, become stronger, become happier. But what I need to know is…do you want to do that with me? Do you want to change, evolve, grow…with me? Together?” Her eyelids lowered slowly as she closed them, and I hoped she wasn’t garnering the courage to let me down. But once her eyes opened again, shining a fierce yellow, they held me captive, and all the uneasiness vanished from my body. “What if this is a mistake? What if everything that’s happened over the years was nothing more than giant signs letting us know that this is wrong?” I knew that even through her argumentative words, her pessimistic thoughts, her fight was waning. She sought clarity, and I’d give her that. “And what would those be, Bree? How your history teacher decided to not come back after having a baby, leaving the position open for me during a time you needed someone the most? How you gave me your virginity, and despite the fact that I’d worn a condom, you still managed

to get pregnant? You were really sick, you were thrown down a flight of stairs, and yet you still held onto the baby—my baby—our baby. What about how we both moved hours away, and yet somehow, ended up in the same town, years later? Are you talking about how we both used the same land to find peace, coincidently at the same time of night, being within yards of each other before even realizing it was the other person? Me pulling you from the lake, saving you from drowning? Me getting a job as your daughter’s teacher—my daughter’s teacher? Which one of those is the universe using as a sign that we shouldn’t be together, Bree? Because the way I see it, every power is being used to pull us back together…not the other way around.” “I doubt you’d feel this way if Ayla wasn’t yours.” “Don’t do that. You’re grasping at straws now. I wanted you back in my life since I walked out of school that day. I’ve been fighting the world every damn day for over six years. When I pulled you from the lake, I had no idea you even had a kid, and I still wanted you in my life. After I found out about her, under the impression that she belonged to someone else, I wanted you. I wanted her. I wanted any part of you I could get. Are you forgetting that I came to you at the hospital? Are you forgetting the passionate night we shared? Or are you making shit up in your head to fit your theory that this won’t work because you’re scared? That I don’t really want you? Are you rewriting history to convince yourself that you don’t want me?” “Why…” She bent her head down, cradling it in her hands as she sobbed, completely giving up. “Why now, Axel?” “What do you mean? I’ve been trying to get through to you since you woke up on my couch. I’ve been chasing you for weeks. You’re the one that keeps running away. Why now? Because I can’t wait any longer. I don’t want to wait. I’ve been waiting for six goddamn years, and I don’t want to waste another moment without you in my life.” She picked up her head, meeting my gaze with a blotchy face and bloodshot eyes. “No…I mean, why now. For me. If we do this now, it’s just going to be me leaning on you again. You saving me again. I want to be able to walk to you on my own two feet, standing strong on my own. Going to you without you questioning if I’m doing it because I want to, or because I don’t have another choice.” “You’re going to have to be a little clearer here, Aubrey. I’m not following.” She huffed in frustration and stared at the ceiling, searching for answers in the air. “With everything going on—my dad, you, Ayla—I’ve missed work over the last two weeks. They let me go last night, saying I’m not dependable enough for them. Which is such bullshit, because I’ve been dependable for four years! And now I don’t know what I’m going to do about an income. I have some money saved from the furniture I’ve sold, that I’d planned on using to start my own business, but now I can’t. Because now, I have to dip into that savings in order to live. And now, after I’ve been completely knocked down and kicked repeatedly, it looks like I’m coming back to you because I can’t do it on my own.” I smiled, not giving a shit that she took it offensively. I couldn’t keep the high from taking over, filling me with hope. “Don’t you see? This is yet another sign…another way for the universe to pull us back together again. After all we’ve been through, you’ve allowed doubt to creep in and obliterate everything you’ve ever believed in when it comes to us. You’ve allowed that doubt to take over and make you think that what we had wasn’t real. That I never really loved you. That I loved a version of you that you can’t see. You’ve actually started to convince yourself that what we had was nothing more than a mirage. But you’ll never convince me of that. You’ll never make me believe that my love for you wasn’t real, or that

yours wasn’t, either. Clearly, the universe is pissed at you for doubting us.” And then she laughed, leaving me offended and confused. “You think the universe fired me, is taking away my income, my family, all so that you can come in on your white horse and save the day again? You think the universe, after all it’s thrown at me, all the shit it’s piled on top of me, wants me to be the damsel in distress? Do you hear yourself? You sound insane.” “You’re absolutely right, Bree. God doesn’t want us together. He’s made us happy together, miserable apart, separated us when the world was against us, reunited us once we were both in places to freely be together…yet He doesn’t want us to be together. No… He wants to keep us apart.” I watched as she shook her head, trying with all her might to disagree, but I knew I’d gotten to her. I knew she couldn’t deny it any longer. She knew the truth, she could see it. I’d laid it out for her clearly. My words were logical, hers were irrational. And no matter how hard she fought to remain blind, I was winning. I would win her over. I would never give up. “Stop…fighting…it.” I moved to the floor at her feet, wedging myself between her legs and holding her face to keep her from looking away. “I came into your life six years ago when you needed me. You came back into mine when I needed you. And now…stop looking at this moment as you once again needing me, because I need you just as much. We may never be rich with money, but I can promise you, we will always be rich in love. I will work my ass off to give you and Ayla everything you need. Everything you could possibly want. I’ll work two jobs, teaching and lawn care, if that means you get the chance to start up and fulfill your dream.” “You can’t sacrifice that for me, Axel. That’s all you’ve ever done. You sacrificed your job for me once before, and look how that turned out. We will never survive if I continue to drag you down.” “Love is sacrifice, Bree. And I don’t see it like that. You’ve sacrificed a lot for me already. You gave up school to give me a daughter. You lied to your parents to protect me. So think of this as me repaying you, me giving you back something you deserve. You’re giving me another chance at the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and giving me a little girl that’s the best parts of both of us…let me do this for you. I live by myself. The house is big enough.” “That sounds great and all, but it’s really fast. You just walked back in my life a few weeks ago, just found out about Ayla five days ago, and it’s only been about thirty seconds since I’ve even conceded at the thought of us being together again. Don’t start packing my bags yet, Batman.” I raised an eyebrow, watching the corners of her lips lift. “Batman?” “Well, you’re not Superman. Batman is a real person—he isn’t from some magical planet with superpowers. So you’re Batman. At least that’s what I told Ayla. She overheard me talking to Sarah when I told her about your hero complex. She was three and thought that meant you were a superhero.” An unfamiliar feeling filled my chest, blazing hot and threatening to bring tears to my eyes. Not just from what Bree said, but also over the simple fact that no matter what had transpired between us, she continued to speak highly of me to our daughter. “I could be Iron Man. He’s a real person without superpowers. And he’s technically a genius. Plus, he drives nice cars. I’d like to drive nice cars,” I said with a mischievous smile, attempting to show her how good we’ve always been together. How easy things could be if we’d just allow it, just let go and fall. As long as we were together, we could fall anytime and be okay. Bree nearly choked on her laugh, her eyes lighting up as she finally gave in. “Whatever, Axel. Be whatever hero you want. But I’m serious. I can’t just move in with you. We still haven’t told Ayla the

truth, and we have so much to work through. I understand that we’ve waited so long to be together, but we just need to wait a little bit longer. Please. All good things come to those who wait.” “Ayla might fall for that, but I’ve been waiting six freaking years.” “Let’s get through telling Ayla. Let’s see how she handles it, how she takes it. This isn’t all about us, you know. We have to think of her and how she feels about it all. There’s no immediate rush to move out. And we still have to work out getting her name changed. About that…I know I said if that’s what you wanted, I would do it, but ultimately, it’s what she wants. We can ask her what name she wants. And whatever she chooses, you must be okay with it.” I nodded, understanding what she meant. I had to put on the brakes and slow it down. “Okay, I agree. I will give us time to work out everything. We won’t make any immediate plans about living or jobs. But if you think I’m going to back off, if you think I’m still going to give you space to sort shit out, you’re sadly mistaken.” “The only thing I needed to sort out was how to tell you about Ayla. That little girl has always had a way of changing things for me. I think things are going one way, I make plans and get prepared for one thing, and then she barrels through it all. It’s Ayla’s way or no way.” I sat back on my haunches, feeling more complete than ever before. “Sounds familiar. You still have a way of hitting me upside the head like a wrecking ball. And no matter what plans you destroy, I always accept it with a smile.” “Okay, Axel. You can say it now.” “Say what?” I asked, already knowing what she meant. “You know…that you love me.” “Oh, I do? And how do you know that?” She grinned and did a fluttering eye-roll, “Because I love you, too.” “Yeah, I already know that. Ayla told me earlier. She also said you think I’m really really really handsome.” I leaned in closer, pulling her face to mine. “But that’s fine, because I think you’re really really really gorgeous. And I love you.”

AUBREY HAD TO GO INTO the bathroom and shut the water off. Apparently, Ayla liked to take long showers, which I could only assume she spent most of the time playing and not washing. My niece always did the same in her baths. But Ayla finally got out and dressed for bed, coming into the living room to join us. My heart pounded in my chest and my palms grew clammy, knowing that at any minute, Ayla would stop looking at me as her teacher and start seeing me as her father. I had no idea what her reaction would be, and the anticipation nearly crippled me. Excitement fluttered inside, while at the same time, fear gripped my throat, causing my breathing to turn shallow and ragged. “Ayla, sweetheart, did you have fun tonight at the dance?” Bree asked while Ayla nodded with excitement. “Did you like having Mr. Taylor there as your daddy?” Once again, she nodded eagerly with a bright smile on her face, eyeing me as she regarded her mother. “Do you remember everything I’ve told you about your daddy?” “Yeah. You said that even though he doesn’t know me, he still loves me like I love him. You said if he knew me, he would want me in hims life.” “His life, Ayla. His,” Bree corrected with a straight face, even though I couldn’t quiet my chuckle. “Don’t encourage her. Otherwise, she’ll grow up speaking like you.” I turned to my daughter and nodded, leaning forward on the couch cushion to get closer to where she sat on the coffee table. “Yes, Ayla. He wants you in hims life. Very much so.” Bree slapped my bicep with the back of her hand and rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway…how would you feel if your daddy was here? Would you want to meet him? Do you want to know who he is?” “Will he sing me his songs?” Ayla asked with wide eyes and a giant grin. I turned to Bree, questioning her with a stare and a raised brow. But she didn’t look my way, only kept her eyes on the little girl in front of her while failing at hiding her own grin. “Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. Your daddy was only named after that man on the CD. Those aren’t his songs. He can’t sing to save his life. Completely tone deaf.” Humor filled her words as her lips curled up. I felt bad for Ayla. She probably had no idea what we were talking about, the joke going right over her head. But the corners of her mouth lifted and she nodded as if everything made perfect sense to her. “Is he here? Can I meet him? Can I hug him?” Bree glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. I could tell she needed help, but I had no idea what to do. This news couldn’t come from me. It had to come from her mother. Bree was the only one that could do this.

“Mommy! Where is he?” Ayla bounced on the table, her excitement escalating. “I want to see him! Does he know about me?” “Yes, sweetheart, he knows about you. And he’s just as excited about you as you are about him. I just want to make sure you’re ready. Because if you’re scared, or you need time, now is when you should tell me. Okay?” Ayla nodded, clapping her hands in front of her. I swallowed, locking eyes with Aubrey—hers were wide with fear. Nerves attacked my stomach, causing me to become nauseated. I’d never felt such anxiety in my life. But it was what I wanted. I just needed to get through it. “I can’t do it,” Bree whispered to me, her inhalations short and panicked. I moved to sit next to her on the couch, directly in front of Ayla. I placed my hand over Bree’s and smiled through my own fear, hoping to offer some support and courage. “I love you,” I whispered back, barely heard at all. It came out as more of a breath across her face than actual words. But I knew she heard me. She felt me. She turned back to Ayla, who sat patiently waiting with eager eyes. “How would you feel if Mr. Taylor was your daddy?” The apprehension was evident in her tone. Ayla’s gaze moved to mine as she tilted her head to the side in thought. “I like him. He’s nice to me. And he’s handsome like my daddy. But he’s my teacher, silly. He can’t be my daddy.” “But he is, sweetheart. Mr. Taylor is your father. Mommy knew him a long time ago, and fell in love with him. Like the way the princess falls in love with the prince.” Her eyes grew even larger in awe and excitement. “You kissed my mommy and woke her up?” “I did,” I said with a confidence I didn’t even know I had. “She was sleeping. The evil queen had her under a spell. And then I came in”—I glanced over at Bree—“on my white horse all decked out in shiny armor”—I winked and turned my attention back to Ayla—“and I kissed her, waking her up. But what the fairy tales don’t tell you is, the princess also wakes up the prince. Because before your mommy came around, before I ever met her, I was sleepwalking. And then she came and saved me. And we made you. And you’ve saved us both. So you’re a superhero princess, too.” “How did you make me?” she asked with an inquisitive and curious tone. My mind went blank, and all I could do was stare at her while sucking on my teeth and blinking. No words came to mind, no thoughts or creative explanations unfolded. Nothing. Luckily, Bree saved me as she humorously answered, “When he woke me up, the fairy godmother waved her magic wand and gave you to me. And I’ve been waiting all this time for your daddy to ride back in on his horse”—she cut her eyes to me—“and all of his shiny armor”—with a grin, she turned back to Ayla—“and sweep us off our feet.” “I like that story, Mommy,” she said with a giggle. “So what do I call you now? All of my friends call their daddies ‘Daddy,’ but I can’t call my teacher that.” Her hands began to fidget in her lap. She glanced down and studied them with a wrinkled forehead, deep in thought. “You can call me whatever you want. But in school, you can keep calling me Mr. Taylor like the other kids.” She perked up and her pretty little face relaxed. “So I can call you Daddy and Mr. Taylor? You have two names?” “Yes, Ayla. If that’s what you want to call me. But since we’re talking about names…right now your

last name is Bailey. Mine is Taylor. It’s up to you which name you want.” Bree nudged my shoulder. “What he’s trying to say, sweetheart, is you get to choose your last name. How cool is that? You don’t have to change it if you don’t want to. Mommy picked your last name especially for you.” “I can be McKayla Taylor?” she asked, and we both nodded. “So if I get in trouble…and you use my whole name…” “I will say whatever name you choose, Ayla,” Bree answered with a laugh. “Can I think about it?” “Take all the time you need,” we both said in unison. Ayla smiled but grew quiet. “What’s wrong, honey?” Bree asked, worry setting in her tone. Ayla stood and whispered in Bree’s ear, though it was something I couldn’t hear. But then Bree smirked and nodded, flicking her head in my direction. With bright eyes, the color directly between mine and Bree’s, Ayla moved to me and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck. “I knew you’d find me,” she said softly in my ear. And for the second time in my adult life, tears flooded my eyes, blurring my vision. But I didn’t stop them. I let them flow, feeling everything in that moment. The love, the loss, the missed time, but more importantly, the bright future that lay ahead for all of us. Right up until bedtime, Ayla asked more questions about me, which we answered as best as we could, considering her age. Bree tucked her in while I waited on the couch. I wanted to go back there with her, kiss her forehead, and tell her goodnight, but I knew she was probably overwhelmed as it was. There was time to work that in later. I had all the time in the world. When Bree came back, her shoulders fell as she made her way to the couch next to me. Her body slumped into the cushion and her head fell to my shoulder. My hand immediately reached for hers. “I want to know everything. Start with the first time you heard her heartbeat, and end with this morning,” I said into her hair as I pressed my lips to her head. She sighed, wrapping her arms around my torso and settling into me deeper as she told me everything I’d missed. Aside from horrible morning sickness, she had an easy pregnancy. After moving in with her dad, she attended a school for teen mothers, which allowed her to take Ayla with her once she was born. She went into labor two weeks early, and it scared her that something was wrong, but Ayla came out perfect, and was the happiest, easiest baby. Apparently, everyone thought so. She became the light in everyone’s eyes—that didn’t come as a surprise to me at all. Bree ended up graduating on time, despite taking time off after the delivery. She only missed six days of school. Her dad and stepmom—which Bree called “Mom” most of the time—didn’t want her to move out, but she was determined to do it on her own. Once she graduated high school, Bree and Sarah found an apartment close to their parents and moved out together. Bree admitted that it was hard, but the struggles were worth it in the end. “How did you come up with her name?” I asked, interrupting her story for a minute with my own questions. “I loved the name Ayla…kind of reminded me of Taylor. And I had a friend in school named Kayla. So I added mick to the beginning of it.” “What’s her middle name?” Bree stilled for a moment, taking in a deep breath before answering. “Rose.”

“No you didn’t. Really? What…is she eighty?” We both laughed, but once we settled, she said, “I couldn’t give her your last name, or list you as the father, so that was my way of tying her to you. And I did some research about Guns N’ Roses, wanting her to have that connection, as well. Axl Rose was raised my his stepdad, William Bruce Bailey. But I didn’t want to be too brazen about it…otherwise, I would’ve named her Alexis, or Lexa. Believe me, those names came to mind. But I figured since my dad already knew your name, that wouldn’t be the best idea.” “Yeah…I’m sure it wouldn’t have taken me that long to figure it out, either, had you done that.” I shifted my position, making her look at me. “Have you told your dad yet?” “No. I’m too scared. He’s getting better, stronger, but I’m worried it’ll give him a heart attack or something. He’s never liked you much. I’ve told him pretty much everything about you. I mean, he said he appreciated all that you did for me, but believes you crossed a line you shouldn’t have. But honestly, I think a lot of that came from his own guilt over leaving me behind. Especially after he found out what my mom had done to me—my back and whatnot—he hated himself. He said he hadn’t protected me enough like he should’ve, and I think he thought I needed protection from you, as well. I don’t really know what his true feelings about you were, since it all seemed to be so muddled with his own. But I do know that he absolutely hates the boy that took my virginity, knocked me up, and then vanished, leaving me with a kid to raise all on my own. So…I guess he’s really gonna hate you now.” “Are you having any regrets about this? Are you doubting us?” Her actions said no, but her eyes said something else. “I’m scared. I don’t want you to get in trouble with the school or lose your job. I don’t want my dad to disown me. I worry about how all of this will get sorted out. But if I’m being honest, being with you doesn’t scare me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this. The only one I ever wanted to be with. And without you, I was merely content with being alone. I guess it’s just an adjustment. I have to stop thinking it’s me against the world now.” I held her face between my hands and pulled her lips to mine, pressing the most tender kiss against them. “Fuck the world. We have the universe on our side. And I’ve got to say, that’s far greater than anything that could possible be against us. We have fate. We have destiny. We have each other.” Bree climbed into my lap, straddling my legs and wrapping her arms around my neck. Her soft kisses grew harsher, hotter, and more impatient. Her breaths grew shallower, uneven, and frenzied. Her hips began to grind into mine, rubbing her core against my erection as I held on to her waist. “This seems oddly familiar,” I groaned, panting between kisses. She pulled her face back and slowed her hips to an erotic roll. “Except last time, you had hair for me to pull on. And I was in a lot of pain.” “Do you think maybe we should slow it down?” “Why are you always trying to stop this?” With my hands on her hips, I pulled her pelvic bone flush against my body. “I’ll always try to do right by you, Bree. Always. And tonight has been really intense. A lot has happened, and I don’t want to rush things. You’re the one that said we needed to take our time and figure this all out.” “Well, the last time we were in this position, the consequences saved my life. So you won’t get any objections from me.” “The last time we were in this position, Bree, you got pregnant. And that’s not going to happen again until you’re wearing my ring and signing my last name.”

“I’m on the pill.” “And I wore a condom,” I argued, raising my eyebrow at her in a dare to contend with me. “I’m horny, and I can tell you are, too.” She wrapped her legs around my waist as I stood up and carried her to her room, tossing her on the bed. A squeal left her lips as she bounced on the mattress before I closed the door and locked it. “Then by all means, Aubrey, let me take care of you.” Her cheeks flamed red as I crawled between her legs, prepared to make her ache burn hotter before letting her fall to pieces on my tongue. We both agreed that it wouldn’t be a smart idea if I stayed the night. We didn’t want to push things too hard, nor did we want to make Ayla feel uncomfortable. Regardless of how we felt about things, how much we needed to work through everything, we needed to put Ayla and her feelings first. We had to consider her with every decision we made. Even though I didn’t spend the night, I made sure to be there for them the following day. I headed over to Bree’s house as soon as I woke up, and spent the entire day with them. Ayla acted shy around me for some reason, yet she didn’t want me to leave after dinner. I knew it was a school night and she needed to get ready for bed, so I had to leave. But I promised her that we’d spend a lot more time together.

The following morning rolled around and I went to school fully prepared to discuss my situation with the administrators. They asked me to meet them after school, sounding very nonchalant about the whole thing. But I’d been burned once before in that situation, so I didn’t let my guard down at all. I told them how I had no knowledge of Ayla or my relation to her. And then I summarized the events from Saturday night, telling them of how Ayla knew who I was and how Bree and I had decided to be together. To my surprise, they were very sympathetic toward me. They understood that I hadn’t deceived them, and had come forward the moment things were out in the open. Then they surprised me even more by explaining that I was still only a substitute teacher, and there was nothing in the rulebooks against a parent subbing for their child’s class. They did see the potential for a problem, but said they would assess it, talk to the board about it, and make a decision about moving forward. However, if it were up to them, they said they wouldn’t step in as long as I kept things professional in my class. I could finally breathe easier, finally feel the weight lifting off my chest. Later that day, Bree informed me that Ayla had decided she wanted my last name. Nothing could’ve made me happier than that news. After it had taken her a while, without a single word from her about it, I began to worry she’d decided to keep her last name as Bailey. But apparently, Ayla was too shy to say it in front of me, and wanted to talk to her mom about it first. I’d been with them all day on Sunday, which prevented her from talking about it. Whatever her reason for waiting, it didn’t matter anymore, because my daughter would be a Taylor. I had a daughter. Bree tried to find a job, but I secretly hoped she wouldn’t be able to, hoping she’d give in and let me help. I had always been good about saving money, starting at my very first job. I’d also always lived below my means, which helped me financially when I’d found myself between jobs. I had a nice savings account, but Bree refused to let me use any of it to help her. So I’d called my dad and asked if he knew

anyone in the area in lawn care who wouldn’t mind some extra hands, and he connected me with a landscape architect. I would work for him part time until the school made a decision about the permanent position. Either way, I’d be able to have extra money for Ayla and Bree. And hopefully, it would allow Bree to start her furniture stall at the flea market. She managed to turn the table I’d broken in her front lawn in to an amazing piece. She ripped off the legs, attached it to an old birdbath, and painted the entire thing like a mosaic piece of art. Once she finished with the glaze, I knew she would be able to sell it quickly. I had so much faith in her, and the extra hours of work would pay off in the end. By the end of the week, we’d made an appointment with a lawyer to set paternity rights. He said it wouldn’t be difficult since we both wanted it. We wouldn’t need a court order, only a DNA test. Once the results came back, he’d file it with the office of vital statistics and we could change her name. We were given an estimate of one to two months before that would be done. I didn’t want to wait that long, but I understood there were steps to take. Ayla already called herself McKayla Taylor. I loved it. But she yelled at me every time I’d say it, telling me she wasn’t in trouble so I couldn’t use her full name. I tried telling her that it was a beautiful name and she should use it all the time, only calling her McKayla when she’s in trouble. She didn’t agree with me. I didn’t care. Bree finally told her parents about me. She was in tears by the time she left their house, calling me as soon as she got in the car. I wanted to drive over there and give her father a piece of my mind, but she told me not to. She said he needed time to calm down and wrap his mind around it. But from what I gathered, he was more upset with Bree for lying about the extent of her relationship with me. I had to trust that she knew him better and he’d eventually calm down. The following week, Bree had invited me over to her house, and I got to meet her other sister, Clarissa, and her husband. Both sisters were really nice, and invited me in with open arms. Bree probably had to threaten them beforehand, but whatever the reason for their kindness, I believed it to be genuine. Our whole relationship before had been spent in hiding. There were no “meet the family” moments, or sharing the holidays with our loved ones. It was full of sneaking around, hidden meetings in the trees, stolen glances in class, and little love notes hidden beneath papers on my desk. Our words had to be carefully plotted when texting, and our phone calls had to wait until the sun went down. So to have these moments where we were all together, out in the open, was amazing and scary all at the same time. And I knew that if it scared me even the slightest bit, Bree must’ve felt it worse. I promised to take my time with her, letting us ease into the comfort of being together, but I made it known that I would never again hide our love from the world.

THINGS BECAME EASIER WITH EACH passing day, but Aubrey still seemed to harbor some apprehension about us. She’d made several comments about how she worried we were rushing into things, or that we were together for the wrong reasons. She told me she loved me every day, and we spent a lot of time together, occupying most nights in the same bed, so I wasn’t too worried about her hesitation. I knew she loved me and that her uneasiness about us would alleviate with time. Bree still hadn’t found a job, and I could tell it only added to her anxiety. She refused to let me help out financially, but there were other things I helped her with on the sly. One of those things was her furniture business that she longed to start. I’d picked up so many odd pieces for her over the last few weeks that it kept her busy and, hopefully, kept her mind off the hard times. It didn’t take me long to realize that Bree was happiest when she was doing what she loved. She worked tirelessly to transform her newest acquisitions and already had four pieces of furniture built and ready for painting. “What are you looking at?” I asked, finding her in the back of the thrift shop. She quickly backed away from the old dollhouse and shook her head. “You want this?” I asked, looking at it, wondering what she saw. It was made of wood, yet it seemed as though it hadn’t been taken care of in quite some time. The front was open and missing a door, the paint was peeling, and I couldn’t help but wonder why someone thought they’d even be able to sell it. It looked like it should’ve been thrown straight into the dumpster. “I was only looking at it. Come on, let’s go.” “No. Wait a minute, Bree. You were looking at this, studying it the way you do when you get a creative idea. Talk to me. I want to know what you see when you look at this thing.” I didn’t move from my spot in front of the worn-down house, refusing to let her walk away. She spun around, appearing tired. Her shoulders lifted to her chin as she said, “It’s nothing, Axel. Forget it.” “No,” I said, holding onto her arms and forcing her to look at me. “I’m not going to forget it. I want to know what you were thinking.” “It’s pointless what I thought or what I want to do with it. I can’t get it right now, and by the time I can, it won’t be here. So there’s no use wasting the time telling you what I think of it.” “Why can’t you get it? It’s only fifteen dollars.” She released a long sigh and dropped her head between us. “I still have projects at home to finish, and I still need to buy paint in order to finish what I have. I can’t afford to start more projects. I have to finish what I can, sell them to buy more paint, and then finish the rest. I can’t afford to pull any money out

of my savings, because I have bills to pay. I can’t just go out and buy everything at once, the furniture I have has to pay for the other projects. It’s a process and kind of pointless to keep adding more when I can’t even finish what I have.” I’d learned that Bree was a lot of things, a prideful person being near the top of that list. Arguing with her over money and what she could or couldn’t afford was useless. I would never win that argument. So, I relented and we left the store. Later that afternoon, I gave Bree the excuse that I had to go home. What I didn’t tell her was that I also had to make a few stops along the way. One thing I couldn’t stand was for Bree to have to deal with disappointment. She’d dealt with that enough in her life, and I knew she’d face more along the way. But I could fix what was fixable. Bearing witness to her not spending fifteen dollars because she needed paint nearly broke my heart. I went back to the thrift store and purchased the rickety old dollhouse, not having a clue as to what she’d turn it into—but that was part of the excitement. She had so much talent it amazed me. I’d look at a ladder and see exactly what it was, something to use to reach high places. But Bree could look at it and see something to display knickknacks. The simple wonder of what she’d do to this broken house was enough to make me go back for it. The other stop I had to make was to pick up paint. I’d gone to the enclosed backroom of her house where she worked on her projects, and taken pictures of the supplies she had left, and then used that to fill my cart full of all the same brands of paints and brushes she’d need. It was apparent that one brush was her favorite, due to the dozen paint colors that riddled the handle. I showed the picture to the store clerk and he showed me what type of brush it was. She wasn’t kidding, paint wasn’t cheap and the brush that was her favorite was ridiculously expensive. But that didn’t stop me. It didn’t make me cringe when I slid my credit card across the counter or looked at the receipt. Instead, it filled me with excitement, eager to give it to her. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. The tricky part was giving it to her. I knew it would cause a fight, I knew she’d be pissed that I’d spent my money on her. But I didn’t care. She needed me just as much as I needed her, and I’d do anything to help her. It was just something she’d have to get over. What I hadn’t expected, though, were her tears. When I pulled back into her driveway later that evening, my truck full of supplies, she broke down and cried—full-on sobbed. “What’s wrong, Bree? Why are you upset?” I had expected her to be angry, not shed so many tears. I couldn’t stand it when she cried. “You don’t get it, Axel.” She sniffled, pushing me away. “How does this look when you’re spending all your money on me? When you’re doing nothing but trying to dig me out of the hole I’ve created.” “I’ll tell you what it looks like… It looks like I love you unconditionally. It looks like I want to take care of you forever and always. I don’t understand why you’re fighting what’s between us so much. One day, Bree, you’re going to marry me. And when that day comes, we won’t have separate bank accounts or bills. You want to earn money and pay for things on your own? Fine. I get that. I support it. However, you need paints and supplies to make things before you can sell them. You can’t make money without having a product, and you can’t have a product without supplies. That’s all I’m doing. I’m just giving you the supplies to get you on your feet. To give this business you so desperately want, a fighting chance.” I held her wet face in my hands and stared into her bright eyes. “Just think of me as your investor. I’m investing in you, in us, in our future and your happiness. Have you seen the way your eyes light up when you’re working on a project? I want them to light up like that all the time.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, “I love you.” “Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?” “I will pay you back every penny for this,” she promised, wiping her tears from her face. “You know I won’t let that happen. You can pay me back in other ways.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. “I’m rather certain that’s considered prostitution,” she said on a laugh, our easiness coming back like it always did. “I wasn’t talking about that, but if you’re offering…” I kissed her forehead. “I’d actually meant something more.” She raised an eyebrow and said, “Sounds scary.” “Not at all. I want everything with you, Bree. Everything. I want more kids with you. I’ve missed out on so much with Ayla, and I don’t want to miss out on anything ever again. But we have plenty of time for that. Right now, all you need to focus on is getting this furniture thing going. Because I know you won’t give in to marrying me until you’re firmly on your feet. So if I have to help get you there, then so be it. My reason behind buying you all of this stuff is purely selfish. So don’t worry about it.” Bree took a deep breath and smiled. “Okay. Fine.” My one stipulation to her was that before she started painting her other projects, she had to fix the dollhouse. I was eager to see what she’d turn it into. To my surprise, after a week of hard work, she finally revealed the most amazing child’s bookcase I’d ever seen. Even without paint, I knew it would be a must-have for any little girl. It solidified my belief that Bree would go far, if only she’d ignore the voices of self-doubt in her head. After spending a month together, we were closer than ever, but I knew I needed to do something to prove to Bree that what we had was real. Words didn’t seem to be enough, so I knew I had to do something to show her. I ran to the store and picked out everything I’d need, and then some. An idea had come to me the night before as I held a sleepy Bree in my arms. I knew what her concerns were, and I needed her to see that she didn’t have anything to worry about. I needed to prove to her where we had come from, and that I wasn’t there with her—I hadn’t chosen to fight for her—because we had Ayla. I needed her to know that my love for her was genuine. She’d once accused me of loving her because I wanted to save her from her mother. Now, she seemed to believe that it had to do with Ayla, or just saving her in general. So I had to pull out all the stops to let her know, to make her certain of the fact that I loved her for her…and no other reason. After my trip to the store, I called her to tell her I’d pick her and Ayla up at eleven, and for them to be ready. She asked so many questions, trying to figure out what I had up my sleeve, but I wouldn’t give her anything. I wanted it to be a surprise. At eleven o’clock on the dot, I pulled into her driveway, not needing to go to the door because they both walked out and met me at the truck. Ayla climbed in the back, excited because she loved how high my truck sat, and Bree rode up front next to me. She fidgeted in her seat, twisting her hands in her lap, but kept up a normal conversation with me. That was, until we pulled up to the field by the lake. I watched as her eyes darted around, nervous and frantic over our location. I placed my hand over hers and smiled at her once she gave me her attention. “What are you so nervous about?” “I don’t know. Why did you bring us here?” My eyes narrowed at her, not understanding her apprehension. But I turned off the truck and got out,

grabbing the bags from the back while Bree helped Ayla out of her seat. Grabbing her hand, I led her into the field while Ayla skipped ahead of us. “Really, Axel, why did you bring us here?” “I don’t get it. I thought you said you came here to clear your head. Why are you so upset about being here?” I asked once we reached the spot by the trees where the grass wasn’t as tall. I laid out the blanket, waiting for her response. “This was my place to unwind. My personal space.” I straightened up and held her hands in mine. “But this is also the place where we found each other. This is where I came to find peace. Don’t you see? We both came here, at the same time, to seek comfort. I don’t fully understand the comfort you sought, but I came here and thought of you. I came here to stare at the sky and imagine where you were and how you were doing. All the while, you were right across the street, or sitting on that dock over there. I know I’ve already said it, but that was the universe pushing us together. Bringing us to one place. And now, I’m bringing all three of us here.” A tear slipped down her cheek before she brushed it away with the back of her hand. “I came here and thought of you,” she confessed softly. “This was my place where I could be seventeen again. In my head, you never left and time stood still.” “We never needed time to stand still, Bree. We only needed it to catch up to us. The love we have, the love we had back then, was always bigger than two young people could ever handle. Life would have ended up tearing us apart. But fate stepped in and we had to sacrifice six years together in order to have a lifetime open to us.” She dipped her head and pulled herself into my chest. “You really believe that?” “There isn’t anything I believe in more. Think about it. We have always been beneath the same sky. We’ve always stood on the same land. We may have been separated by miles and time, but that doesn’t take away the fact that if we looked up, we saw the same thing. If we sat down, we were sitting on the same earth. But look around, Bree. Look up.” “Same sky…same land…” “All three of us. Finally here. Finally together again. Right where we deserve to be. When will you stop thinking that we don’t belong, or that something is going to happen? When will you stop assuming that I’m here for all the wrong reasons? When will you finally believe what the universe has been trying to tell you this whole time?” “It’s hard to think things will work out when they didn’t before.” “But they did, Bree. They did work out. You’ve said yourself how different things would’ve been had it all not happened this way. Don’t you see?” “Well, I guess they’re right.” She smirked and rolled her eyes. Confused, I asked, “Who’s right about what?” “They say time heals. Great things come with time. I’ve never believed it until now.” “I guess sometimes you just have to pass the time in order to see the greatness.” I pulled her close again and kissed her forehead. “Now come on. I’ve got food in these bags and I’m hungry.” “A picnic?” “It may not be in our enchanted forest…but now we have a wide, open field.” Once we finished eating and played a few games with Ayla, it was time for my last part of the plan. “I

have another surprise for you.” “You do?” She turned to me in question, but the doubt that had been there over the past month was noticeably absent. My plan to express my feelings and gain her trust seemed to be working. “It’s something else that’s important to you.” “I can’t think of anything.” She glanced over to check on Ayla, who was running through the trees, having the time of her life. She loved this place as much as we did. “Tracii invited us for dinner.” I held her hand and looked at her pensively, unsure how she’d respond but hoping she’d be happy. “You’re going to take me home to change, right?” Her eyes opened wide, complete fear etched in her features. I couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “You look perfect,” I said with a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve been sitting outside for two hours!” she exclaimed, and looked down at her outfit. I shook my head at her, stood up, and called Ayla over as we began to pack things up to leave. Bree’s nervousness was evident the entire drive to Tracii’s. It was as if she were meeting my parents, which hadn’t happened yet. She knew how close my sister and I were, but Tracii was also protective of me, so waiting to introduce her to Bree was key to them getting along. I knew Tracii would love Bree as much as I did; it was just about ensuring the timing was right. “So this is my Aunt Tracii?” Ayla squealed and asked for the fifth time. “And I have cousins?” “Yes and yes,” Bree snapped. She had answered Ayla’s questions nicely the first four times. The nerves had caused her irritability, so I reached out to hold Bree’s hand and glanced into the rearview mirror to give Ayla a wink. By the time we pulled up to Tracii’s house, tension hung thick in the air. I hoped it would vanish as soon as they met. I didn’t know how I’d handle it if my sister and the love of my life didn’t get along. I really didn’t think that’d happen, but worried about it nonetheless. Tracii opened the front door before we even got out of the car. Her kids ran to us and instantly introduced themselves to Ayla. Kids were so great that way. If only adults could get along as effortlessly. “Uncle Axe!” Daniel called out to me as he jumped into my arms before I was ready, causing me to grunt when his knee hit my thigh. “Daniel, don’t hurt your uncle,” Tracii barked, which wasn’t a good indication of how things would go. She was the one that invited us over, so I had high hopes that she was ready for this introduction. The kids ran in circles around the car and it had quickly turned into a three-ring circus. “Aunt Tracii,” a small voice whispered. “Yes…?” Tracii looked down and saw Ayla. Her disposition and face instantly changed. Tears formed in her eyes as she studied Ayla, the situation quickly becoming real. Tracii knelt down and took Ayla into her arms, holding her tight, just as I had wanted to do when I first laid eyes upon my daughter. It was instinctual. She was family, and after seeing her, you couldn’t deny that we were related. “I’m so happy to meet you.” Tracii’s words were thickened by emotion. Bree put her arm around me while we watched the poignant display. “I’m so glad to meet you, too.” Ayla squeezed Tracii with all her might. “But you guys don’t look like twins.” We all laughed, and the earlier tension dissolved.

Tracii and Bree took turns hugging and made introductions as I stood back and watched my family together. Bree, Ayla, and I were a family. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. We herded the kids back into the house where we found Danny, Tracii’s husband, waiting for us. “So this is Bree?” He gave a welcoming smile and extended his hand for hers. “This is her,” I responded. Bree timidly walked to him to shake his hand, but at the last minute, she pulled him into a hug. The entire situation confused me, but then I realized that she must’ve remembered my stories of him from before, of how he’d been abused by his parent as well. “Bree,” Tracii called. “Why don’t you help me in the kitchen?” Bree shot me a look that clearly begged for me to rescue her, but I waved my hand at her, knowing she’d be fine. The girls needed some bonding time. I settled in to watch a football game with Danny while the kids took off running throughout the house like wild animals. This seemed so right, all being together. “Dinner’s ready,” Bree called out not too much later. “Everything go okay in the kitchen?” I whispered to her as we took our seats. “Everything was fine. Better than fine, actually. I have no idea what I was so worried about.” “Don’t worry.” I smirked. “Tracii is kinda scary.” My sister hit me in the arm and gave me the evil eye. She leaned into me, whispering in my ear, “I really like her.” Relief and warmth flooded me. After everything we’d been through, we were finally picking up the pieces.

“SO…AM I THE LAST meeting of the day?” Aubrey asked as she walked into my classroom, closing the door behind her. I stood from my seat, peeking around the corner to make sure it was shut all the way before smiling broadly at her. “As a matter of fact, Ms. Jacobs, you are. Please, have a seat at my desk.” I pulled my chair out for her and then leaned against the edge of my desk. “I don’t understand why I had to come here to meet with you formally. It’s not like you don’t give me updates on Ayla when we see each other every night. What could you possibly tell me that I don’t already know?” I slid along the edge of the desk until I stood directly in front of her, and then I used my legs to nudge hers apart. She reluctantly grinned while shaking her head, yet she yielded and parted her legs for me. “Anyone can walk in, Axel,” she whispered, as if someone would hear us. “The door is locked, Bree. I would have to go open it for someone to walk in.” I leaned over the chair, holding myself up with my hands on the armrests, and ran my tongue down the side of her neck. “I’ve already told you about my fantasy of bending you over my desk.” “Axel,” she replied weakly, assuring me that she wouldn’t put up a fight. “What happened to your nosex rule? I thought you wanted to wait until things were finalized.” I hummed against her skin, agreeing with her. “That’s Mr. Taylor, to you. And I know you got the call today, because I got one, too. The request for name change has been approved.” I continued my assault on her neck, carrying it down to her chest as she tilted her head back. “Well, maybe I’m not ready yet…” I knew that was a lie. Bree had been begging me for over a month to fuck her. She played a hard game, but I always came out the winner. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be permanently inside of her, because I desperately did, it’s just that I had my own game to play. And I played for keeps. I backed away and stared into her eyes. “You’re not ready?” I grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of the chair before spinning her around, trapping her between my chest and the desk, her back pressed firmly against my body. “Then by all means, let me help you get ready.” I lifted her skirt, running my fingers over the back of her bare thigh. She shivered and arched her back, giving into my touch. So not ready. I pressed myself against her and blew on the back of her neck, working my fingers beneath the band of her underwear. Just as suspected, she was wet. “Seems to me you’re very ready for it,” I whispered against the back of her neck. I slowly eased a

finger inside her warm canal, teasing her with unhurried, deliberate thrusts. “Maybe I’ll make you come this way first.” “Axel…oh my God. I don’t think… I don’t think this is a good idea.” “No one can see us, Bree. Stop fighting it and let me fuck you.” “Are you really going to fuck me this time? Or chicken out again?” “Oh, Bree,” I said with a deep growl, pressing my hard-on against her back. “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers first, make you come all over my hand, and then I’m going to fuck you with my dick until your cunt squeezes the life out of me.” Her breaths turned frantic as she thrust against my finger harder, faster. Bree loved it when I talked to her like that. It spurred her on even more. One good thing about not rushing into sex with her, is that we got to learn so much about each other’s bodies, taking note of what the other liked best and how. I knew exactly what buttons to push, exactly what to touch to make her lose control, and exactly what to say to drive her crazy. I eased another finger inside her, stretching her slowly while pressing my thumb against her backside. That made her jump slightly and drop her head to hang between her arms. I wrapped my other hand around to her front and teased her clit while picking up the pace of my fingers. “Pinch your nipple for me, Bree. Twist it, squeeze it. Pretend it’s my teeth.” She pulled one arm back from the top of the desk and did as I instructed. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew what she was doing. I knew it by the moans that came from her throat and the way she rode my fingers, picking up speed as she slammed herself against my hand. Her core began to tighten, and I knew her first orgasm hovered on the horizon. “That’s right, baby…fuck my fingers. Come for me.” “I can’t, Axel. I can’t. I’m too scared someone will catch us,” she whispered, her voice shaking. I immediately pulled away from her, twisting her around until she faced me with the desk at her back. I leaned into her, causing her to take a seat on the edge as I pressed my lips to her hot mouth. I leaned in more, forcing her further onto the top of the desk before pulling back again. “What…?” “Shhh…” I pressed my index finger over her parted lips and sat in my chair, rolling it closer to her. I wrapped my arms around her legs, pulling her feet off the floor and placing them on the armrests of the chair. “Don’t tell me you can’t come, Bree. Because I’ll make sure you do.” “We’re going to get caught.” “No we won’t. But you have to hurry.” I pushed her skirt up and slid her underwear to the side, catching the scent of her arousal immediately. Without hesitation or warning, I buried my tongue inside her before licking up her slit to the hard nub at the top. I would never get enough of her. She jumped, pressing herself into my face more, and grabbed a hold of my hair with one hand. I’d grown my hair out for her and she loved it. Within seconds, I had her panting and coming on my tongue, completely letting go as she yanked on my hair, which she now had tangled in her tightly closed fists. I didn’t even give her time to come down from the high before standing up, thrusting the chair back so hard it toppled over, and then flipping her around again. I made quick work of my pants, only dropping them to my thighs, and then teased her dripping entrance with the tip of my dick. “You want this, Bree?” I asked in a heady voice.

“Yes, Axel. I want it. Please,” she begged, nearly out of breath. “Then move in with me.” Her body stilled, no longer trying to spear herself on my erection. “What?” “You heard me. Move in with me. You and Ayla…under my roof. Say yes and I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you right here, right now, and again in our bed tonight. Anytime you want it. Say yes, and I’ll fuck you. Hard.” Her back heaved with her heavy breaths before she cried out, “Yes! Okay…yes. I’ll move in with you. Just fuck me already, Axel.” I worried someone might’ve heard her, so I quickly thrust inside her, burying myself to the hilt. “Holy shit, Bree.” I panted, thrusting in and out of her at a rapid pace. Her body gave in, her arms no longer holding her up. She fell to the top of the desk and pressed her cheek against the cool metal. Her soft moans and the slapping of skin filled the room. Had I not been so consumed by her, I would’ve worried about someone hearing, but I’d become too lost to care. “I need you to hurry, baby. Fucking come for me so I can fill you up. We’re running out of time.” I reached around her and frantically circled her clit with my fingers, pressing against her hard as I thrust deep within her. She began to whimper and I could feel her walls closing in. I couldn’t hold on any longer. My balls tightened with every push, burned with every pull. The moment the airy squeal left her lips, I spilled myself into her, pushing against her as hard as I could, emptying every drop into her hot core. We spent a second catching our breaths before I leaned over her and removed a tissue from the box on the corner of my desk. I watched as I slowly pulled myself from her, my dick glistening with the mixture of our excitement. After carefully wiping her off, I stepped back and refastened my pants. “Oh my God, Axel,” she whispered as she slowly spun around to face me, her chest heaving up and down. “What in the hell got into you?” The glint in her eye told me she wasn’t chastising me. “I’ve wanted to do that for six years.” She kissed me, unable to wipe the grin from her lips. “Yay for parent-teacher conferences. When’s the next one?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Um…only when I’m the teacher and you’re the parent.” Bree wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. “Ready to go home now? I apparently have to pack up my shit. Some bossy teacher is moving me in.” “You’re not going to change your mind, right?” She drew back and lifted an eyebrow. “You promised to fuck me like that every night. Hell no, I’m not changing my mind. But if you ever give me the excuse that you’re too tired or you have a headache and can’t perform, I’ll be out like a fat bitch in dodge ball.” I laughed and pressed my lips to her forehead. “You don’t have to worry about that, Bree. I’d still fuck you on my deathbed. Let’s go home.”

I’d followed Bree back to her house and stayed the night. The next morning, we started packing up their belongings. Ayla was beyond excited about coming to live with me and having both parents under the same roof. She’d adjusted to me very early on, but always preferred to be around both of us together. This

just made things simpler. And it seemed to make everyone happy. We ended up packing all weekend, and finally finished moving everything over by Sunday night. My house became slightly cramped with everything, but we decided to wait a little before choosing what would stay and what we would get rid of. Although, we both agreed that anything we chose to let go of, Aubrey would work her magic on it and sell at the flea market. I’d cleaned out the garage to give her space to work and keep all her furniture. The following week was Thanksgiving. Her parents had everyone over to their house, Robin putting on the entire spread. It was the first time I would get to meet her father, and my nerves nearly had me backing out before even leaving the house. I finally knew how Bree must have felt when she met Tracii for the first time. “Everything will be fine,” Bree coaxed on our way to their house. “He’s fine with it now, I promise. You’ll see. And if he’s still upset about anything, it’s me.” “He lectured you for an hour about us moving in together. That was less than a week ago. Do you really expect me to believe he’s over it by now? We could’ve at least met on neutral ground. Instead, I’m walking into the lion’s den. His turf. He’s gonna slaughter me. You’ll become a widow before we ever get married.” Bree laughed and covered my hand with hers on the console. “No. He just thinks we should’ve waited. I swear, he’s really coming around to the idea of you.” “Oh, gee. That makes it all better. The idea of me?” “You know what I mean. Not to mention, you have the rest of us on your side. So even if Dad wants to be stubborn, he’d be completely alone in that. Robin can’t wait to meet you. And Clari and Sarah do nothing but say great things about you. You’ll be fine.” I didn’t have much of a chance to argue with her. We pulled into their driveway as soon as she finished talking. Ayla jumped from the back seat, running to the front door in excitement. “Please don’t leave me alone,” I begged Bree, pleading with my words and eyes. “I won’t.” That turned out to be a false promise. The moment we walked into the house, Robin called her into the kitchen to help with something. She headed back there, but the second I went to follow, Bree’s very large father stopped me. “You don’t see anything wrong with what you did?” he asked, standing in front of me, keeping me from going anywhere. Seriously, I wasn’t a short guy, but her dad made me feel tiny. “Yes, sir. As a matter of fact, I do. I should’ve never engaged in a romantic relationship with a student. However, I stand by my feelings for her. I defend how I felt back then, and how I feel about her now.” This was the first time I’d had the opportunity to speak with the man. I’d wanted to before, but Bree always told me to give him more time. She said I shouldn’t press him. But I no longer had time as a luxury, and I refused to back down and say my feelings for her were a lie. He straightened his back and arched a red, bushy eyebrow at me. “So you admit that sleeping with a student was wrong?” His voice was so deep, it sounded like a bear. Yes, Bree’s dad reminded me of a very large, very scary, red-haired bear. But I wouldn’t back down. Bears could sense fear, and I wouldn’t show him any. “Yes, sir. It was never my intention do go that far. It was never hers, either. But I was young as well. I’m sure you’d agree with how easy it is to give in, regardless of right or wrong. But the only thing that should matter here is that I loved her. I still love her. I’ve never stopped and I never will. It wasn’t some perverted love, or

even hormonal love. I never sought her out for any of that. When I befriended her, it was simply to help her deal with the crap society and the law couldn’t save her from. I never anticipated falling in love with her. But I can tell you with complete certainty, sir, that I don’t regret it one bit.” Honestly, I expected him to come unglued and smack me like a motherfucker, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded slowly with pursed lips, met my eyes, and shook my hand. “You better take care of her, boy—both of them.” “You have nothing to worry about with that. I promise.” “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath. “I wasn’t supposed to like you. You were supposed to be some chump kid that I could scare away. You know, I’ve always wanted to do that. Maybe we can do that when Ayla gets older. We can sit on the porch and clean our shotguns when a boy comes to pick her up for a date.” I fought hard to control my grin. “That won’t happen, sir.” He raised an eyebrow at me in confusion. “Ayla won’t date until she’s thirty.” He laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle. “Yeah, boy. That’s what I said once about Aubs. Yet that didn’t stop her from getting more than a history lesson from her teacher.” The smile fell from my lips. “That wasn’t funny.” “Oh, what? So you wouldn’t like it if some young teacher fell in love with Ayla? I’m sure neither of them will expect it or plan on it.” I couldn’t speak. I stood frozen in front of him. But then he slapped me on the back, jarring me from my panic attack. “I’m just messin’ with ya. Come on, the boys are in the back. Care for something to drink?” I shook my head. “No, thank you.” “Don’t worry, boy. Aubs already told us. All we have here today is soda, juice, and water.” He had a gleam in his eye that told me he respected me. And knowing he’d gone out of his way to accommodate me, left me with nothing but respect for him as well. The rest of the day went by smoothly. Everyone got along, and the food was superb. I actually got along great with Joel, Clarissa’s husband. Ayla had attached herself to her nana, Bree visited with her sisters, and I got to know the guys better. It was the start of a life I never thought I’d have until I pulled a sad girl from a cold lake. Until she looked inside of me and stole my heart with her wolf eyes. She could deny it all she wanted, but Bree was my she wolf. She huffed and she puffed, and she blew me away with her love. I was never one to believe in fairy tales, until Aubrey Jacobs sat on my couch and told me one. Once upon a time in a classroom not far from here, a young teacher met a student. She came to school one day with a bruise on her face and he wanted to kiss her boo-boos all better. He found out about her wicked mother and vowed to save her, but then he fell in love and was forced to walk away. On the night of her seventeenth birthday, she drank a glass of poisoned grape juice and ran through the enchanted forest to find him. Yada yada yada…they made up and all was right in the kingdom again.

I CLIMBED BACK INTO BED, searching for warmth beneath the blankets. Everyone was asleep except me. I had to stay up in order to get everything ready. Even though I’d be dead tired the next day as both of our families gathered together for the first time, I knew I wouldn’t regret the lack of sleep for a single second. Bree rolled over to face me, snuggling up against my chest. Her body heat quickly invaded me, warding off the chill I’d gotten from being outside. “Everything under the tree?” she asked with a sleepy voice. “Yeah.” “You don’t think she heard you, do you?” “I doubt it. I took like a million trips to make sure I wouldn’t wake her up. This Santa thing is no joke. I think we should just tell her the truth and avoid this next year. It’s too damn cold outside in the middle of the night to sneak in presents that some fictional man in a red suit will get credit for.” “It’s not that cold. Stop being a baby,” she mumbled as she nuzzled into me more. “There is snow on the ground. I’d say that’s pretty cold.” She pushed back, her eyes finally open. “Snow? We have snow?” I bit back my smile as she jumped from the bed, rushing to the window to look outside. I didn’t want to seem too eager, so I gave her a second, making sure my timing was right. The moment I heard the gasp seep from her lips, and noticed her hands cover her mouth, I knew that was my cue. I slipped off the side of the bed, falling down on one knee. I knew what she saw. I’d purposely set it up in the yard where she’d see it from our window. How I’d managed to spread fake snow on the ground, strategically place fake candles that glowed like real flames to spell out my question, and hide the box from her, would forever remain a mystery. Bree became a kid at Christmastime, finally able to live out the holiday cheer. I almost thought she’d never fall asleep and ruin my plans. “Axel?” She turned around, her eyes immediately finding me kneeled in front of her with a black box opened, showcasing a diamond ring. It took me forever to find the perfect yellow diamond that didn’t cost me all my savings. It was small, and I worried she wouldn’t like it, but I’d become determined to find a yellow stone that’d remind me of her eyes. I knew she’d read the words lit by the candles, but I felt the need to repeat them. “Will you marry me?” Emotion clogged my throat, making the words sound raspy and desperate—which was rather accurate. “Please, Bree. Marry me. Spend the rest of your life with me. I want more kids with you, to grow our family. I want to be by your side every step of the way, loving you, taking—” She cut off my words by pressing her lips to mine. I could taste the saltiness of her tears on my tongue

as my mouth consumed hers. I pulled her into my lap, falling back against the side of the bed with her wrapped tightly in my arms. “Please tell me that means yes…” I whispered into her mouth. “Yes. Yes. A million times yes, Axel.” “Oh, thank God. I thought you would say it’s too fast, but I couldn’t wait another day,” I confessed into her neck once I finally allowed myself to breathe. She pulled back slightly, holding my face in her hands. Her eyes glistened from the soft light shining through the window. “I may have felt that way two months ago, but not anymore. I no longer fear a future with you. The intensity of our love no longer scares me. Almost seven years ago, we planned a life together. It’s about time we finally start living it.” “You’re not still asleep are you?” She smiled and pressed her forehead to mine with a giggle. “No. I’m wide-awake. I didn’t know how badly I wanted to live with you until you forced me to. And I didn’t realize how desperate I want to marry you until you just asked. But why does it sound like you’re trying to talk me out of it?” “Trust me, I’m not trying to talk you out of it. I’m just making sure I go through any excuse I can think of so you can’t use it to back out later. Because once this ring is on your finger, you can’t take it off or give it back. There’s a strict, no-refund policy.” Bree held out her left hand and spread her fingers wide. “Then put it on, baby.” I pulled the ring from the box and slipped it on her fourth finger, setting it in place behind the knuckle. I held her hand for a moment, studying the way my ring looked on her before threading my fingers through her hair and yanking her mouth back to mine. “Do you remember the first time we were in this position?” she asked, slowly rocking her hips into mine. “How could I forget?” “Good…because you’re about to relive it. You became my first that day, and now, you’ll be my last.”

Coming early 2016… Take Your Time

Prologue Sarah IT WAS CHRISTMAS MORNING, MY favorite day of the year. The house buzzed with excitement as everyone began to show up, filling the rooms with laughter and cheer. The only person missing was Mom. I knew I’d find her in the kitchen, preparing for the big holiday, and I wanted nothing more than to help her like I did every year. I found her leaning against the counter with her head cradled in her hands. “Everything all right, Mom?” I asked, walking cautiously toward her. She stood up straight, holding herself up at the sink, and plastered a smile on her face. But I could see the pain in her eyes. I knew right away that her migraines were back. They’d plagued her for years, nearly crippling her at times. But she was on a regular Botox injection treatment plan to keep them away. “When are you due for more shots?” I asked, grabbing a dishtowel and wetting it with cold water for her forehead. “Not until next month.” “That’s weird. You don’t normally get them this bad before treatment, do you?” She took the rag from my hand and pressed it against her cheeks, dabbing it down her neck. “No. It came on this morning. Out of nowhere.” “Did you take anything?” She nodded, the pain clearly too intense to speak. “Go lay down, Mom. Don’t worry about lunch. I’ll take care of it for you.” “Sarah, we have guests. I shouldn’t—” “Mom,” I said sternly, using her motherly tone against her. “Don’t worry about them. Axel’s mom is with his sister’s little boy, the girls are entertaining each other in Ayla’s playroom, the women are chatting about weddings, and the men are discussing ways to keep their women happy. No one will mind if you go lay down for a little bit. I promise, I have everything under control.” “I’ve trained you well, Sarah. One day, this holiday will be all yours.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” She waved me off, moving out of the kitchen. “Just that one day, this family might need someone to step in and take care of the food and decorations and make sure everything is planned to perfection. And you’re the perfect person for the job. It’s the natural progression of things.” “Stop talking like that, Mom. Go lay down.” I watched her walk back to her room as I finished with kitchen duty, reminiscing about the holidays in the past. Christmas had always been my most favorite day of the year. No matter how old I’d gotten, it still made me feel like a child again. From the moment the first decoration went on sale at the local gardening store, or the first house that put up lights, I became giddy, filled with excitement and joy. That one day held the power to bring back memories of my childhood, growing up, and the traditions we continued every year no matter how much our lives had changed. And boy, did they change. My real dad had passed away when I was three. My sister, Clarissa, was only one. As much as I wished I could remember him, at least I didn’t have to live with the grief of losing a parent. It’s shallow

to say, sure, but nothing could be worse than being reminded of someone you loved unconditionally and realizing you’d never get those moments back. You’d never be able to apologize for hurtful words, or say thank you for things you might’ve once taken for granted. My dad got to experience the utter, complete, and honest love from his daughters before passing on. I just always felt bad for my mother. But she had a way of making things better for us. For as long as I could remember, we had a Christmas tradition. Instead of buying gifts for each other, we’d make them, and then stick them under the tree without names on the tags. It was our own version of Secret Santa. The gifts from Clari—my sister—and me were pretty much garbage, but my mom’s eyes would light up and she’d ooh and ahh over every present she’d open. Mom loved to paint, so we always got canvases with beautiful scenes painted on them. We’d hang them in our rooms along with the previous years’ portraits, and make sure we always left room for new ones. I was thirteen when my mom remarried; Clari was almost eleven. Wayne was the first guy Mom ever brought home, and we loved him from the very first time meeting him. He made her happy, which made us happy. And even better, he loved our holiday tradition and insisted we kept it. Now looking back on it, the decision probably had more to do with the fact that we didn’t have much money instead of loving the Secret Santa idea, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter what the reasons were, I only cared about picking which wrapped gift I wanted. After a few years, Wayne had been offered a better paying job, and Mom got the promotion she’d been after for a long time. Money was no longer an issue in our family, but it never changed the tradition of Christmas morning. The summer after I graduated high school, our family changed again. Wayne’s daughter, Aubrey, came to live with us. I’d never met her before, but had always known about her. The only times I’d ever heard Mom and Wayne fight were after his phone calls to her. I never understood what they were about until she came to live with us. We hit it off from the very beginning, and were so close that we decided to become roommates after she graduated from high school the following summer. But still, even when Aubrey joined our household, our Christmas tradition remained. I always loved Aubrey’s gifts. She had an amazing talent when it came to woodwork. And after my mom taught her how to paint, her gifts became even more amazing. Clari and I always fought over who’d get Bree’s gifts, and eventually, she just started making two of each. By the second Christmas with Aubrey, our lives changed once more. She had a little girl, McKayla, who brightened our days with her white hair and ocean-colored eyes. Her laugh was infectious, and she had everyone wrapped around her little finger. She was the only person in the family that received store-bought presents at Christmastime. Lots and lots of store-bought presents. A few months ago, McKayla’s father came back into the picture. I’d known about him from the very beginning, but it was something Aubrey had sworn me to keep secret—she’d kept it hidden from everyone except me. There was a lot of controversy surrounding her relationship with him. But they ended up working everything out and became the kind of family anyone would be envious of. Hell, just witnessing the way he looked at her made anyone in the room jealous. But I was happy for them both, and happy that Ayla finally had her daddy in her life. With Christmas coming up, and plans being made for his entire family to join ours for the holiday, we had a family meeting to discuss presents and preparations. I worried that our tradition would be over, but surprisingly, it was a unanimous decision to keep it alive. Even Axel was on board for keeping it. So that morning, I headed over to my parents’ house bright and early, getting ready to help my mom with Christmas preparations like I did every year. Nerves hit me about meeting new people, but I stuffed

them down with a smile on my face. The first Christmas miracle came when Aubrey and Axel arrived. He’d proposed to her the night before and she said yes. I really thought Wayne, or Dad as I oftentimes called him, would’ve been upset over the news—like he had when he learned that Axel had fathered McKayla. But he wasn’t at all angry. In fact, he didn’t even seem surprised about it. I later learned that Axel had done the right thing by seeking Wayne’s permission beforehand. I would be asking Santa for an Axel clone to be delivered next Christmas. Once his family arrived, the house became rather chaotic. Aubrey and Clari talked wedding plans since Clari had just gotten married herself a few months ago. McKayla played with Axel’s niece. And you couldn’t get a word in edgewise around Wayne and Axel’s father. I knew I wouldn’t miss much by taking over in the kitchen for my mom. After I finished getting everything ready for lunch, I called the family together for prayer. We decided to eat first, and then open presents while letting the food settle. But I figured my mom would probably want to eat with the rest of us, so I headed back to her room. The room was pitch black, thanks to the blackout curtains Wayne had bought a few years ago to help with the headaches. I found her bundled up in the middle of the bed with the blankets wrapped tightly around her. So I climbed in beside her, snuggling up to her for a moment of peace. I moved in closer, expecting her to wake up from my movements, but she didn’t. I called out to her, quiet at first, and then louder. But she didn’t answer. I shook her, but she didn’t budge. Tears flooded my eyes, cascading down my cheeks as I called out for help. I didn’t care who heard me. I just needed someone to come. I needed someone to save my mom. That day, my life changed again. Only this time, it wasn’t for the better. And Christmas was no longer my favorite day of the year.

Leddy’s Notes STUDENT/TEACHER ROMANCES ARE MY MOST favorite kinds of books to read, but I’d always been too scared to write one. I wanted it to be epic and perfect at the same time. I had in my head the lines I wouldn’t cross and the limits I wouldn’t push—not because I don’t like those (oh, how do I love crossed lines and pushed limits) but because I wanted to do something different. Aubrey and Axel’s story came to me in two different parts. First it was hers. She told me about her mom, her lack of friends, and a teacher that befriended her. I wrote her story (minus Axel) years ago. I loved it, but it was always missing something (the teacher). Axel’s story came to me differently, and much later. I envisioned the prologue long before I knew anything else about him. I always wanted to know more about the student that had accused him of inappropriate behavior, but he never told me anything. It wasn’t until one afternoon when I’d laid down for a much-needed nap before picking the kids up from school when it all hit me. I put my headphones in and the song “She Wolf” by Sia came on. Aubrey came back, louder than ever, and she showed me the entire first half of this book. She explained why Axel felt that way in the prologue. So I jumped out of bed and wrote. The second part of the book was a surprise to me. I’d always known she had a kid, but it wasn’t supposed to be his. While writing Aubrey’s last chapter, Axel finally spoke up. And he was very adamant that Ayla was his daughter. I struggled with that for a while, not wanting to take their relationship to that level for many reasons (one because I have three daughters and I think I’d murder someone if that ever happened to them). But I decided to hear him out. So I did. And his story broke my heart. And that is how Aubrey and Axel became… Sidebar—I do not condone a teacher having a physical relationship with a student. However, I do condone love, hot guys, and rock and roll!

Hey You! KEVIN, MY HUSBAND, MY BEST friend… You never hold me back from doing what I love. Even when the dishes aren’t done, when dinner isn’t made, and when we have more dirty clothes than clean ones. You are my rock. I love you so much! Thank you for your love and support. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you. My family…all of you. Starting with Mimi (the most amazing grandmother God ever created) and down to my midgets. I have the most amazing family anyone could ever ask for. We might be crazy at times, stubborn and argumentative, but I wouldn’t trade them for anyone. I don’t even have to question their support. I know I have it, and I know it’s genuine. I love you all! Amanda, you read Aubrey’s story before it became what it was, and you supported me way back then, when I just wrote what came to me and left it hidden in a folder on my computer. I shluv the living crap outta you!! Crystal…your enthusiasm about my books excites me! Thank you for being a part of this journey with me, and for listening to me talk book shit with you all the time! Leigh Ann and Stephie…you guys only get three letters. GFY. Neda Amini! My God, woman! Where would I be without you? You rock. And in case you need to hear it again…you’re always right. Looking forward to you being right many more times in the future!! This story wouldn’t be the same without my girls! Clarissa, Julie, and Kimmi…I honestly feel that you three came into my life for a reason. I’m beyond honored to call you three my friends! Candy…I can always count on you. I’m so thankful to have found you. And looking forward to hearing more of The Truth About Leddy! And then there’s Marlo. I wouldn’t have any book without Marlo. I can’t even put into words how much I love you, Lobs! You are such a strong part of my support system, and I’d fall apart without you! Jenny and Gitte! I can’t even believe I’m writing your names in my acknowledgments! Such a dream come true! Your support and excitement drives me! And I still think I’m dreaming, but I have no desire to wake up! You girls are so awesome and sweet. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything!!! Bloggers, readers, fellow authors that have taken a chance on me, THANK YOU! Honestly, this is an amazing community of support. Thank you all for your words of praise (and positive criticism). I take them all and grow with each of them. And of course…Aubrey and Axel. Thank you for filling my head with your love. And a bigger thanks for leaving. You two took up far too much space. (And made real life parent/teacher conferences boring as hell!)

More from Leddy Home No More Benevolent Lust My Biggest Mistake

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