Page 72 of By Your Side
Briar grinned and headed down the hall, humming to herself just like Paige often did.
Paige turned to me, a quiet relief in her eyes. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” I said, and I meant it. Still, the image of her earlier—sleep-mussed and warm in my arms—flashed through my mind, and I wished I could just keep her there, safe, for a little while longer.
She walked me to the door, her hand brushing mine in a soft, secret touch the girls wouldn’t see. “I’ll see you tonight?” she asked.
“Do you need me?”
Paige didn’t answer right away. Her gaze flickered to the hallway, where Briar’s laughter mingled with the muffled thud of Lark’s door. She squeezed my hand, the gesture fierce for a second, as if she was anchoring herself to me. “Always,” she murmured, voice so low I could barely hear. “But I’m not closing alone anymore. I’m exhausted; I can’t keep doing it alone.” She smiled, and I caught a glimpse of everything she couldn’t say—worry lined in the corners of her eyes, hope twisting beneath the surface.
For a moment, the hallway was a passage between worlds: the bright, ordinary life she’d built for her kids and the quiet, aching space where we existed in secret. I wanted to reach for her, to promise I’d never let go, but the sound of Briar calling for her mom snapped us both back. Paige released my hand, stepping away just as the kitchen light spilled across the hardwood.
I nodded, swallowing the urge to linger. “Tonight, then,” I said, trying to fill my words with steadiness instead of longing.
She smiled, small and brave. “Tonight,” she echoed, and the word seemed to mean more than just a time—it was a hope, a promise, a plea.
“Okay. Goodbye.” I stepped outside, the cool air cutting through the lingering heat of her bedroom and glanced back once before heading for my truck. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just walked away from something I needed to hold onto tighter.
I drove away with her words echoing in my ears, the sound bittersweet as I reached the edge of her street.
The secret was starting to gnaw at me, leaving bruises no one could see. I told myself it was for her kids, for Paige, for the sake of the fragile peace she’d built. But every time I hid my feelings, it chipped away at something inside me because I craved more. I wanted it all.
I drove the long way home, letting the silence stretch, unsure if I could keep doing this—keeping my feelings a secret when I knew I wore them in every fiber of my being and anyone who saw me with her was bound to figure it out. Rumors were already flying as it was.
As I drove, the sky glowed with the last traces of sunset, painting the world in colors that felt almost too tender for how raw I felt inside. Every mile I put between us seemed to weigh heavier. I wanted to turn back, to say something honest and reckless, likeI love you, but I kept going, letting routine remind me where I was supposed to belong.
And when I finally turned onto my own street, I still didn’t know if I should go to her or ease off until she was settled.
I texted her that I had a migraine. And I went to bed alone. She wasn’t closing by herself anymore; she’d be okay without me tonight.
Chapter 22
Paige
It had been a week. Seven whole days without Hunter showing up at closing time, without the creak of the back door announcing him, without that quiet, soothing presence that made the long nights feel special.
We’d texted, sure—short messages.
How was work?
Fine. You?
Busy.
Nothing that hinted at the way his mouth had felt on mine, or the way his arms felt when he had them wrapped around me. It was as if we’d hit pause, only he had the remote and I didn’t know how to get it back.
Truth was, I missed him—missed him so much it ached in my chest, like something essential had been taken out and I couldn't breathe right anymore. I felt stuck, tangled up in all the things I couldn't say and all the worries that wouldn’t leave me alone. More than anything, I wished I could make my troubles disappear and just be with him, safe and simple, with nothing between us but the way I felt. The idea that I might be hurting him, even without meaning to, made me hate myself a little. I wanted to protect him from all of this, from me, but I didn’t know how. The worry ate at me, and every time I thought of him, the more I burned for him. I just wanted to promise him it would be okay, but I didn’t know if it would.
I’d taken the day off—something I rarely did—because I couldn’t face the thought of being at the bar and not having him show up again.
And now here I was, sitting in Piper’s wedding cake bakery having lunch with her like I had nowhere else in the world to be. Something Sweet smelled like heaven—vanilla, buttercream, and the faint tang of espresso drifting from the little coffee counter she had tucked into the corner. The big front windows spilled soft light across the glass cases lined with towering layer cakes, delicate pastries, and the prettiest cupcakes I’d ever seen. A couple at the far table was sharing a slice of strawberry shortcake, and the bell over the door chimed every so often as customers came and went, their chatter mingling with the hum of the mixer in the kitchen.
Piper slid into the chair across from mine, smelling faintly of sugar and spice. She gave me the kind of look that said she was about to dissect my soul. “What’s wrong?” she asked, in that deceptively casual tone she used when she was about to dig her heels in.
“Nothing,” I said, picking up my coffee.
She arched a brow. “Paige. You look like someone stole your best friend, and by that, I mean Hunter. What’s going on?”
