There’s more I need to know, but she’ll never share it with me. I need to be okay with that. I need to be okay with letting her go. Even if it kills me.

I go down to breakfast, hoping I’ll spot her there. I don’t. I spend the whole meal checking my phone for a text from her every other minute, starting texts to her just as often and not letting myself send them.

After breakfast, I go back to the room and pack my things. Part of letting her go means giving her space. So after I’ve fulfilled my promise to her at the wedding and reception, I’ll head home.

I take a long shower and shave. I’m still in a towel when my phone buzzes, and I snag it to see a text from Isaiah.

Isaiah: I can’t move in with you.

I take a breath and frown at my phone. He can’t, or he doesn’t want to?

Me: Whatever you want. The offer stands if you change your mind.

Isaiah: I want to, but I can’t.

Me: Why not?

Isaiah: Because it’s my fault.

Me: You made a mistake, but you won’t do it again.

Isaiah: Not the accident. Dad. It’s my fault he’s dead.

I brace myself on the bathroom vanity and stare at Isaiah’s text. One emotion after another slams into me, too fast to identify. This poor kid. I don’t know why he could possibly think that, but I understand the feeling all too well.

It’s still early. I could go to Marta’s and still be at the church in time for the wedding.

Me: I’m coming over. I’ll be there in thirty.

Someone knocks on the door, and relief floods me. Teagan. It’s like she knew I needed her right now.

“Did you forget your key?” I call, tightening the towel around my waist.

If she answers, I don’t hear it over the sound of the maid vacuuming in the hall. I unlock the door. I’m so relieved to have her close that I’m actually smiling—even if this is a mess, even if I don’t know how we’re going to fix this, I just want to see her. I want to tell her what Isaiah said, want to explain that no matter what happens between us, she’ll always be precious to me.

When I yank the door open, my smile falls away. It’s Sabrina when I expected Teagan. Theme of the fucking weekend.

“Sabrina. What do you need?” Dread curdles in my stomach as I scan the hall for Teagan. She didn’t come. She won’t. After our fight, she probably doesn’t want to see my face.

Maybe I should have gone home last night.

Sabrina steps into the room and looks me over with a small, sad smile. “I was hoping we could talk again.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “I can’t right now. I need to run out for a bit.”

“Please.” The word rips out of her like a sob. “Please, Carter?”