Page 47 of The Last Thing
She nestles into her pillows, then to my shock and delight, leans against me.
I think I’ve made the first crack in her walls.
Maybe I’m not completely delusional after all.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HALLIE
“Then Daddy toldme we could pick one night a week to go out to eat,” Sophia says, bouncing in her booster seat in the back of my Wrangler. “Maybe you could come with us.”
In the rearview mirror, I give her a little smile. “Maybe. But I think you should enjoy time that’s just you and your dad too.”
I love that Deck took my advice and told her he secretly loves McDonald’s chicken nuggets.
Seeing him this morning was the ultimate test of my willpower.
They usually spend all day Sunday with his mom, so today was the first time I saw him after what happened Saturday night.
When he took care of me, even though I tried to push him away.
I hate pushing him away.
I hate fighting my feelings for him.
The night we met, I felt a hum of awareness. A buzz of electricity. Like something was drawing me to him.
It should’ve made me panic, but I told myself it was just one night, and if it was the best night of my life, I’d have it to look back on.
But it’s so much more than one night now.
And while I enjoy the playful side of him, the caretaking vulnerable side is enough to undo me. I almost burst into tears when he offered—insisted—to get me the food I needed.
My parents or friends would get me whatever I needed if I asked them to.
Frannie and Kennedy would’ve gone out without me asking back when we were living together.
But since then, this is the first time someone was so insistent on caring for me. He wants to be my person. The one I can rely on. He wants me, but I don’t know how to give him that.
Because I could never give him a part of me. He’d want it all. And giving him all of me would mean handing over my heart. That’s dangerous, and it’s sure to come with heartache.
But with the way he looks at me sometimes—the way he makes me feel—my resolve is wearing thin.
At this point, giving in to him might be inevitable.
I help Sophia out when we get to the parking lot across the street from the apartment building.
As she puts her backpack on, I notice her scratching at her wrist, and it looks a little red.
“Okay?” I ask.
She looks up at me, eyes a little wide. Then she smiles. “I’m good.”
“All right. Let’s head inside.”
I take her hand to cross the street. I’ll be keeping an extra close eye on her this afternoon because there’s something about her answer that I don’t trust.
We head across the street and into the building, though Sophia is a little quieter than normal.
