Page 52 of A Place Like You

“We met during our residency,” I start the story, my eyes distant as I recall the past. “One thing led to another, and we became friends with benefits. It just made sense. We weren’t together because we were madly in love with each other, but because it was just a natural progression. Sinclair happened, and we moved in together.”

She frowns. I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she processes my words. “But you didn’t do it because you loved her and your son?”

I scoff. “That’s my biggest regret,” I confess. “I can’t say that I miss the love of my life, only that I lost my family. The guilt sometimes is suffocating, especially when I miss you so fucking much—and we’ve only been apart for hours or maybe a day.”

“What happened to them?” she asks gently, her eyes filled with empathy.

“She got a job offer in another state,” I answer, staring at the wall while I recall those days. “We fought about it because my practice was thriving. It was new, but I was making a name for myself without the help of my father—no one knew him in Los Angeles.”

I clench my fists, feeling the anger building up inside me as I recall the argument. “‘You can’t just uproot our lives like this,’ I had pleaded, my voice tinged with desperation. ‘What about us? What about Sinclair?’ I made promises to change, to be present—to love her.”

Glancing at Wren, I continue, “But she was determined to pursue the offer since I was unable to offer her more. The more we argued, the more apparent it became that we were at an impasse. One day I came home, and she had left, taking everything with her.”

I let out a loud breath, exhaustion evident in every line of my face as I rub my eyes, trying to push away the painful memories that still haunt me. The ache in my chest feels all too real, as if the wounds from the past have been freshly reopened. The news of the accident had shattered my world. I might not have loved Noelle, but Sinclair? I adored my boy.

“Noelle didn’t have to drive the moving truck,” I admit, my voice tinged with frustration and regret. “We could have afforded any service, but she insisted on doing it herself.

“They never made it to their destination,” I add, the words heavy with sorrow and disbelief.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she mumbles and then adds, “That’s why you pull away from Milo sometimes, don’t you? You feel guilty about spending time with him.” Her words cut through my self-blame like a knife, and I can’t help but feel the sting of truth in her words.

I nod, ashamed of myself. “I want him to have everything because his father left him,” I admit, my voice cracking. “Who chooses to leave their kid willingly? But then, I don’t feel like I deserve his love, or that it’s fair to Sinclair.”

Wren’s eyes narrow in fierce protectiveness. “You can’t use my child to clear your conscience,” she declares, sounding like a mama bear defending her cub. “We’re not a replacement for something you lost or a charity case.”

“Fuck,” I growl in frustration. “I’m saying everything wrong, aren’t I?”

Wren stares at me, and I’m pretty sure she’s about to kick me out of her house and her life. “I suck at this,” I confess, feeling vulnerable and exposed. “I come from a long line of heartless assholes who don’t know how to speak feelings.”

Her lips twitch in a small smile, and I take it as a sign to continue. “So maybe the first couple of times I was trying to give him something I thought he was missing,” I try to explain, my emotions a jumbled mess. “But, in fact, I didn’t bring anything to the table. It was the two of you who filled all the cracks in my soul: his laughter, your sassiness and kindness. But of course, I was trying to avoid him because the guilt was gnawing at me. I wasn’t like that with them—ever. I didn’t fall in love with Noelle, but I adore you.”

Her eyes open wide in surprise, and for a moment, I fear I’ve said too much. But I can’t hold back any longer, the words spilling out in a torrent of emotion and vulnerability.

“I’m not expecting you to say much, only to let me into your life,” I continue, my voice pleading. “Though I’m broken, I want to make you fall in love with me.”

With a shaky breath, I point at the flowers I sent earlier. “These are just to tell you that I’m thinking of you, not to celebrate two months of working together.”

“You can’t just burst into my house and tell me that you love me when we barely know each other.” Her response is guarded.

I point at my ear, emphasizing my words. “I didn’t say that, but I’m falling madly and irrevocably in love with you.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, and I can see the turmoil in her eyes. “And what am I supposed to do with that information when I know you’re leaving?”

“Am I?” I counter, my heart sinking at the realization that she believes I’ll be just another temporary presence in her life.

“No one stays after they leave the Endor program.”

“Cal promised me they’re going to fix everything so we can go back to our normal lives,” I say, my hopefulness tinged with uncertainty. “I can’t promise much, but hopefully, my normal life will be here with you and Milo.”

“You’re a stranger,” she reminds me, her voice soft yet firm.

“I step closer, closing the distance between us. “Thorndale. My name is Drake Thorndale,” I introduce myself, hoping she’ll see that I’m sincere in my intentions. “Please, Wren, just give me a chance.”

Her gasp echoes through the room, and she gawks at me, unable to find the right words to respond.

“You’re not supposed to tell me anything. What if they kick you out of the program?” she asks.

My heart pounds in my chest. “I trust that you won’t tell anyone my secret. I’m trusting you with our lives, Wren. Can you trust me with your heart?”

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