Page 101 of Taking Chances

“Meet Daisy Thompson.” I click on a photo Connor sent me and show him, my lips pulling up into a smile.

“She’s adorable.” He huffs a laugh, looking lighter for a second. “One less thing to worry about,” he mumbles under his breath.

And he’s right. A part of the weight is lifted from my shoulders as I type my congratulations. I’m sorry to have missed the birth, but I have my whole life to spoil that baby rotten.

Judging by the stiffness growing in Lennox’s shoulders, we’re getting close to our destination. Ultimately, the car pulls to a stop in front of a brick exterior, older house.

I thank the driver while Lennox pays him and grinds his teeth in lieu of goodbye. He runs his hands through his hair, exhaling loudly before knocking on the dark wood front door.

A man opens the door, and he’s around Lennox’s age. His beard is dark and unruly, just like his hair. His eyes soften the second he recognizes Lennox.

“You’re here, man.” He envelopes Lennox in a man hug.

“I need to see her,” Lennox grits out, already walking in.

The man’s gaze falls to me, and I put out a hand. “I’m Anne. Lennox’s… friend.”

Lennox turns to me for a split second, his glance full of regret. A breath catches in my throat, but I focus back on the man shaking my hand.

“I’m Jason. Len’s cousin.” My lips turn up at the sound of his nickname.

Lennox is already gone by the time the introductions are done, so Jason leads me into the living room. I meet Jason’s mom and dad and drink coffee while chatting with them.

It’s morbidly awkward. Everyone knows why we’re here, but no one mentions it. Everyone looks on edge, nervous glances casting all around, but everyone pretends nothing is wrong.

Eventually, I grow tired of it and try to broach the subject. “How is she? Was she hurt?”

Jason’s mom side-eyes him as if he’s to blame, and I fully understand why Lennox hates the pretend game. I’m getting the urge to scream at them, and I’ve only been here for half an hour. I couldn’t imagine living like that.

“Yes. She’s fine. Just a bit tired,” Jason’s mom answers.

I drop the subject since I’m obviously not going to get any answers. Jason’s dad goes to work, and his mom scurries into the kitchen.

Soon, Lennox emerges from one of the rooms, a frail-looking woman at his heels. Her eyes are puffy, her neck covered suspiciously with a beige scarf, but her face is smiling.

“And who do we have here? I’m Susan.” She tries to sound cheerful, but her voice is shaky.

I notice his eyes are puffy as well, and I barely resist the urge to hug him. To hold onto him tightly, telling him I’m here and will never leave.

A pang of sadness hits my throat because it’s not the truth. I’m only here today as support. But I’ll never be what I want to be to him. And this—I look around—whole situation here is the reason why. Why he can’t open up, why he can’t fall in love.

So I swallow my grief and shake hands with Lennox’s mom, offering her the warmest smile I can muster under the circumstances.

“Cut the act, Mom. This is Anne, and she knows.” Lennox breaks the moment.

Susan’s head draws back quickly, revealing red marks on her neck. My skin raises with goosebumps before she recovers it.

“There was no need to come because of it.” She waves her hand. “It was just a spat. He’ll get help and it will all work out.” Her smile is barely holding on, tears pooling in her eyes.

“How can you say that?” Lennox raises his voice. “Look at yourself.”

“Lennox.” I press a hand to his shoulder. “Can I please talk to your mom, in private?”

He stares at me for a second before nodding. I lead Susan into the same room they exited from. It’s a plain guest room with only a bed and two nightstands. I pat the bed next to me and Susan joins me.

“I know you’ve just met me. But I volunteer at the shelter for survivors of domestic abuse. I talk to women like you every week.”

“I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, but that’s not me,” she answers, averting her gaze.

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