Page 99 of Yes No Maybe

“I’d never hurt your reputation with your kids, and I-I feel like a hypocrite for getting so upset about it anyway.”

“Don’t. I lied. I never should’ve done that, especially not to you.” His eyes catch mine, holding me with a pained, quizzical look. “I, um, heard some of the kids talking about your scars. They said you were assaulted?”

The lead weight I’d carried holding all the things I should’ve said returns, hard and tight in my chest. I move out from around my desk and lean against it so there’s nothing between us. “Yes, I was. When I was fifteen.”

“I always assumed it was an accident. That’s what everyone said. That’s why I never asked. I wish you’d told me.” He’s breathless, concern and hurt etched on his face.

“I should have. I wanted to. But everything between us was always so…nice. I haven’t had a lot ofnice, and I stupidly thought that telling you my real story might hurt us somehow.” Tears slip from my eyes, and I hang my head, ashamed for keeping him at a distance. “I was so worried about losing you that I never really had you.”

He stands, sets his coffee aside, and meets me where I am. “It’s okay. Trauma doesn’t have rules or etiquette. The only right answer is whatever you’re comfortable with, and I didn’t make it easy for you.”

My arms wrap around him, and he lets me bury my face in his neck while he holds me. Just like old times.

“Thank you, Dean,” I whisper into his neck. “I didn’t make things easy for you, either.”

“Any chance for us to start over?” With his question, he pulls away just enough to see my eyes. And in the warm space between us, for a moment, I consider it.

But when I don’t answer right away, Dean softens his disappointment with a smile. “Even if I go on to become a big-time actor in Hollywood, I willalwaysregret leaving you for the summer.”

“I’ll always regret it if you don’t take that part. Tell me you will.”

His hands fall from me, and he takes a step back. “With your blessing. It’s the best revenge, right?” His smile fades into curiosity. “Is that why you’re moving? Some sort of passive-aggressive revenge? I thought you loved that house.”

“I’m… angry,” I admit, like Dean’s my priest suddenly. “What does love matter if I can’t be happy there?”

“Here’s something you’ve definitely taught me. Everything’s fixable. Have you talked to him?”

“Yes, but he’s…” I don’t know how to voice my opinion about Jack if I even should. “How will I ever feel safe with a guy who…”

“Can have anyone?”

“Right.”

“Rowan, the last thing I want to do is push you toward someone else, but… you are beautiful, intriguing, and everything any guy could ask for. Don’t let a few scars make you settle for anything less than what you want.”

“Damn it, Dean. You’re making me miss you so much.”

He breaks away from me, tossing his empty coffee cup into the trashcan. At the door, he turns around. “Rowan, take a lesson from me. Don’t letanythingcome between you and something you love.”

A light smile cuts through my tears. “Look at you, inspiring guidance counselor, already in character.”

We share a brief chuckle before Dean disappears into the hallway.

Thirty-Three

Rowan

Miraarrivesatthelittle house Friday afternoon to take Sara home. I would’ve done it myself, but Mira said it had to be official.

As we load Mira’s SUV, the neighbors skittishly emerge from their dwellings bearing gifts. Tom and Marcy bring their delicious homemade barbecue sauce. Vernon gives Sara a pink toolkit to properly care for her bike while Rose hands over a basket of yarn in every conceivable shade of purple.

“What about Jack?” Vernon peers across the yard.

“Oh, he already gave me his gift.” She holds up her phone. “A year’s subscription toChiller. He gets me.”

I smile at their generosity and feel slightly bad that Jack’s staying away because of me.

“Your gift is in your bedroom,” Sara whispers when I hug her goodbye. “Don’t be mad. I can’t help what inspires me.”

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