Page 113 of Hang the Moon
She circled the rim of her cup with her finger. “Things.Mom and Dad things. Grandma things. Natasha things. Elle things.” She lifted her eyes, her gaze unguarded. “I love Elle.A lot.And I don’t want whatever baggage I’m carrying around that I don’t even know about to jeopardize our relationship. So yes, I decided it would be wise for me to see someone.”
He pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth and reached out, covering Darcy’s hand with his. “I’m proud of you.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Brendon. It’s not athing.” The way she flipped her hand over and squeezed his fingers said otherwise. “I asked Elle to move in with me.”
His lips curved in a genuine smile, the first of the day. “Yeah? When do you need me to help with the boxes?”
“As if your tiny car couldholdany boxes,” Darcy teased, eyes sparkling. “And shouldn’t you be asking me if she said yes?”
“Psh.” He waved her off. “Of course she said yes.”
Darcy smiled softly. “She said yes.”
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I’m really happy for you.”
Her smile went watery and she ducked her chin, sniffinghard. “Me too.” She cleared her throat and lifted her head, pinning him with a stare. “It’s okay if you’re upset.”
His back teeth clacked together and for a second he was tempted to brush her off with another breezy smile. Her honesty compelled him to be truthful in return.
“If I don’t talk about—about Annie, it’s easier for me to tell myself she’s coming back. Thatthisis temporary. Talking about it, saying it out loud, makes it real. It’s—it’s hard to keep acting like everything’s going to be okay when I put it out there.” He dragged his thumb along his lower lip and shrugged. “Annie’s been gone a week. And as much as I want to pretend like everything is okay, I know that’s wishful thinking. I just...”
Darcy frowned and waited while he gathered his thoughts, preparing himself to ask the question that had been on his mind for the past six days.
He swallowed over the ever-growing lump in his throat, the one he had no hope of getting rid of any time soon. “I keep wondering if there’s something else I could’ve done, something I could’ve said, something Ishould’vesaid that might’ve made a difference and—”
“Brendon.” Darcy squeezed his fingers and gave a quick jerk of her head. “Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t play that game.What if.There’s nothing you could’ve done differently that would’ve swayed Annie’s decision. She has to make her own choices.”
He ducked his chin, a sardonic laugh bubbling up that he couldn’t stop. “Why is that such a hard pill to swallow?”
Her fingers rubbed the back of his knuckles soothingly, nearly hypnotic in their rhythm. Like a metronome. “Because youwant to solve everything for everybody. Make everyone happy. You like to fix things, but some things aren’t yours to fix.”
He shut his eyes against the wave of emotion that crashed over him.Everythinghad a solution. Nothing was unfixable, beyond repair. It was never too late if you cared about someone. You just had to want to fix it badly enough, try harder, and—he coughed, lifting his head and looking up at Darcy, his brow furrowed. “Margot told me I have a hero complex.”
Darcy smiled sadly. “You do. You created an entire dating app because you’re desperate to bring people joy. You have been ever since Mom and Dad split. You tried to bake her snickerdoodles when Dad moved out. You forgot to pull the pans out when you preheated the oven and you used cloves instead of cinnamon because we didn’t have any. They were barely edible. Remember?”
He pressed his knuckles against the seam of his lips. “Vaguely.”
Mostly, he just remembered feeling confused, because to him, they’d appeared perfectly happy until they weren’t. He remembered staring out his bedroom window and wishing Dad would move back home. That Mom would leave her room, because she hadn’t in days. He remembered the sickening sense of dread, his stomach dropping out his ass, when he’d first heard the worddivorcewhispered. He remembered feeling helpless and then relieved once they moved in with Grandma. And thenguiltyover his relief.
He didn’t really remember the cookies, though he was sure Darcy wasn’t wrong. It sounded like something he’d have done at twelve. Think that cookies could—maybe notheala broken heart, but help. Want to fix a situation that wasn’t his to repair with a little sugar and a lot of hope.
“You should probably talk to someone about it. A professional,” Darcy said, matter-of-fact.
He laughed. “Probably.”
“Have you talked to Annie since she left?”
“A few texts.” He hedged, not wanting to admit that for every text he’d sent her, another three had languished in his drafts, unsent. He hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her with every tiny, insignificant moment that made him think of her and therefore felt significant to him.
“That’s good. Make sure she knows you’re still thinking about her, that she’s still on your mind even though she isn’t here.”
Even though she might not come back.
Knowing that didn’t change how he felt. Even if Annie wasn’t his, wouldn’t ever be his, even if she moved halfway across the world, he’d still care about her. And he wanted her to know that, because caring for her came without strings.
He had to wet his lips before he could force the words up his throat. “Annie’s not coming back, is she?”
She dropped her eyes, staring down at the starched tablecloth. “She hasn’t said—”
