Page 67 of The Lilac River

She stood, too, slow and careful, like she was afraid anything faster might send her collapsing.

“I should go,” she said, her voice brittle. “Bertie may need more Enfalyte later. She should stay home for the next two days. Just… make sure she rests.”

She turned for the door, steps shaky.

But then she paused. Turned back.

Her eyes met mine. And what I saw there. It wasn’t defiance. It wasn’t regret.

It was devastation.

“For what it’s worth,” she said, her voice cracking, “you were everything I ever wanted. Everything I still want.”

I opened my mouth. To say what, I’ll never know.

Because she was already gone. The front door clicked closed like a period at the end of a chapter I didn’t want to reread.

Silence folded around me.

I stood there for what felt like hours, my fists clenched at my sides, my heart thundering like a runaway stallion.

Then, without thinking, I slammed a hand down on the table. A roar ripped from my throat; broken, guttural, nothing like me at all.

I collapsed into a chair, bracing my elbows on the wood, burying my head in my hands.

She was gone. Again.

And I?

I was still stupid enough to love her. Still stupid enough to hope.

And I didn’t know how much longer I could survive it.

Chapter 26

Sorry - Halsey

Lily

The classroom buzzed with the kind of busy chaos teachers dream about, giggles, whispered math strategies, the scrape of chairs on tile. Paired up and elbow-deep in their More or Less Than Thirty game, my students laughed, argued, and scribbled on whiteboards with the confidence only third graders possessed.

But my head wasn’t in the game.

I sat perched on the edge of my desk, nodding absently when someone called my name, pretending to watch the room while my gaze kept drifting toward the window. There was no view of The Last Creek Ranch from here, just the school playground and, beyond that, the scraggy rise of pine-dotted hills, but my heart wandered anyway.

Last night lingered like smoke. Every word. Every look. Every ache that hadn’t dulled in ten years.

I’d almost told him.

The truth had been right there, ready to fall from my lips. That his father had blackmailed me. That I left because I thought I had no other choice. But the words stuck in my throat, too tangled in fear to escape. Fear of what Nash would do. Fear of what would change. Fear of what might be destroyed—again.

Secrets were heavy. They pressed on your lungs; made you feel like you were drowning in plain air.

I flinched slightly when someone slid onto the desk beside me. Cassidy.

"Dime for your thoughts," she said, eyes sharp even behind the casual smile. "Or are they so hot they’re worth more than that?"

I nudged her gently with my elbow. "There are children present."

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