Page 75 of Don't Call Me Sweetheart

That brought me up short. “No,” I said softly.

“I’m not surprised. Yes, George was a good guy. But he wasn’t a man. He was a kid. You were both kids. Your marriage never really stood a chance. Like, one in a million teen marriages survive. I mean, seriously, have you seen divorce statistics for the teen parent demographic?”

“He died, Emma. George died.” I shook my head. “That changes everything. He died taking care of me and Jessica and some random stranger. I have a responsibility to him now. I wasn’t a great wife, but I can honor his memory by being his widow. I owe him that much.”

Emma was silent for a moment. “I know something about guilt,” she said slowly. “I know how it feels imperative to carry a burden that should never have been yours to begin with. You do owe George something. He loved Jessica, and you owe it to him to make sure she knows that, and more importantly, you owe it to her. But he’s dead, Kate. It does him no good that you’re a perfect widow. You don’t owe him that. You don’t owe him your life. This guilt you’re carrying, this burden, it doesn’t belong to you. Put it down, Kate.”

I knew, in the depths of my soul, that Emma was right. George would never have asked this of me. I wished I could lay the burden down and walk away.

I just didn’t know how.

Max

Childish shrieks cut through the quiet, followed by the rapid patter of footsteps on pavement. I panicked, hurtling up from the couch, pistachio shells scattering in my wake. A ghost howled, and then there were more screams and laughter. Suddenly, I understood.

Shit.

It was October 31, what would have been my last day as Kate’s boyfriend, if we had kept to the plan. It was also Halloween. We had planned to spend our last night together making an appearance at Emma’s party and then spending the rest of the evening hanging out at Kate’s house, a block off Main Street, handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. Jessica would be going with a group of friends—for the nostalgia, they had claimed—but they were old enough that they neither needed nor wanted chaperones.

I hadn’t exactly been looking forward to it. When we made those plans, I hadn’t yet realized I was in love with Kate, but the termination of our relationship had never filled me with glee. Even so, I had thought it would be a fun way to say goodbye. I had never done the whole Halloween thing as an adult, preferring to leave a bowl of candy on the porch with instructions to take only one. Kids never did, which was why I always kept a backup bag of candy.

Tonight, I couldn’t even do that. I hadn’t bought so much as a single candy bar. Five days had passed since the breakup, and although I had gotten myself dressed and to work every day, in my head, I was frozen in that moment when Kate had told me she couldn’t be with me. Meanwhile, time had had the fucking gall to march onward.

I looked around in a complete and utter panic. Any minute, a child was going to ring my doorbell and be very disappointed by the result. Unless that child wanted pistachios. Which I very much doubted.

Shit, shit, shit.

There wasn’t time to put on real clothes. I threw on my coat over my flannel pajama pants and hole-filled sweater, shoved my woolly-socked feet into my boots, and reached for the doorknob at the exact moment the doorbell sounded.

I froze. Oh no. I did not want to face innocent children in my gremlin state, but neither could I hide inside forever. Anyway, they had probably already heard me making noise. Resigned, I opened the door, careful to stay in its shadow, and peered around.

And found Luke and Eli on the other side.

“Why,” I said flatly.

It was an existential question to the universe as much as to the men standing in front of him, but neither answered.

They pushed past me into the house without waiting for an invitation, Luke carrying a brown paper grocery bag that I eyed suspiciously. It was Halloween. I wouldn’t be surprised if Luke and Eli were here for tricks, not treats.

Eli crossed his arms over his chest, his stance spread wide to take up space. “I thought we were clear. Don’t hurt Kate. Isn’t that what we told him, Luke?”

“That’s what we told him,” Luke agreed sadly, shaking his head.

“But he went and did it anyway,” Eli said. “Kate is definitely hurting, and I’m thinking Mr. Principal here is to blame.”

I wasn’t impressed by Eli’s posturing, but the words stabbed at me. The last thing I ever wanted was to cause Kate pain. I rubbed at my stubbled jaw. “Listen—”

“It’s definitely his fault, one hundred percent,” Luke said. He looked me up and down and shook his head again. “Might be worth noting that it looks like he’s been punished enough already. Seriously, man, what are you wearing?”

“I was not expecting company,” I said with dignity.

“Dude. It’s Halloween. There are children everywhere. They don’t need to see all that.” Luke gestured to a particularly large hole in my pajama top where, if I moved my arms at all, a hint of nipple poked through.

“Yeah, well, I forgot. I had other things on my mind.” Kate. I zipped up my coat, covering the affronting hole and visible chest hair. “So, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have an errand to run.”

Luke and Eli looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“Gentlemen,” Luke mocked in a hoity-toity voice.

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