“I let myself in. I saw Maggie through the window—she’s asleep in the chair.” His eyes widened as they drifted down to the mess she’d made.

“It’s organized chaos,” she said, looking around. “What are you doing here?”

“I talked to my mom tonight.”

She went still. “That’s good.” He probably heard the uncertainty in her voice.

He stood straight, like a man who’d been trained to do so. “Not good, actually.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s coming for Maggie’s party.”

Louisa’s heart nearly burst. “That’s great.” She stood up, setting aside the stack of unopened mail in her hand. “That’s so great.”

“No, Lou, it’s really not great.”

Her heart deflated. “It’s not?”

“I asked you not to invite her.” He seemed to be talking through gritted teeth and trying very hard not to lose his cool.

“And I decided to ignore you.” She tried to sound sorry but avoided his eyes.

“I should’ve known.”

Louisa folded her arms across her chest. “I know you’re upset, but your mom has a right to be here. She has a right to say goodbye.”

“But that’s not why you invited her.” He took a step closer, keeping his voice low, but his anger was easily detected.

“It is too.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “You told me as much. You’re trying to fix this. You think that if everyone comes back together, they’ll all be one happy family again.”

She could feel a flame flicker inside her. “Well, what’s so wrong with that? What’s wrong with wanting the people I love to love each other again?”

“They’re past that, Louisa.”

She lifted her chin. “They are not.”

He paused. “You know they are.”

Why did she feel like they weren’t talking about their parents? Why did she feel like this was his way of telling her that no matter how kind he’d been—no matter how gentle his touch or patient his demeanor—the two of them were beyond repair?

No birthday wish would ever bring them back together.

“You can’t fix everything, Louisa. It’s broken. Leave it alone.” His tone had softened, but she heard the warning in his voice. What was he so afraid of?

“You know I can’t do that.” His face blurred behind the cloud of tears that filled her eyes.

“Yes, you can. You have to learn to leave things alone.”

Normally she would’ve had a witty retort at the ready, but she simply didn’t have the energy to be funny right now. She didn’t want to know what “things” he was talking about, and she couldn’t shake the idea that it wasn’t “things” at all—it was people, namely him, that he wanted left alone.