Caden
I don’t know how long I stand there after she looks at me like that. Long enough for the candles to flicker again, for the swing behind her to creak as it sways gently—empty now. She doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t scream or cry. Just blinks up at me like she’s trying not to break in front of me. Like I already broke her.
I step back first. One foot, then the other. I don’t say another word. Not even goodbye. She lets me go. The air feels heavier the second I leave the porch. I don’t look back as I head for the gate, but I feel her watching me. Or maybe I just hope she is. The second I climb into my car, I drop my head back against the seat and close my eyes.
You did that.
My hands are still shaking. I grip the wheel tight enough it almost snaps, trying to focus on the leather
