He hated to think it, but even in the short time he’d been back, he could tell her health was in rapid decline. What if she didn’t make it to her birthday?

“Has Louisa been here tonight?”

“Ally stopped by earlier. No Louisa.”

“She’ll be here soon,” he said.

Slowly she dragged her eyes to his. “You love her.”

He was thankful for the dark so she couldn’t see his reaction. He cleared his throat instead of responding.

“It’s okay; she loves you too. You guys were made for each other.”

“You think so?”

Maggie clapped a wrinkled hand over his much larger one and exhaled a long sigh. “Everyone thinks so.”

His eyes fell to their two hands. “Not everyone.”

He could practically feel her frowning.

“Not my mother.”

“Have you told her about the two of you?” Another cough.

He shook his head. He knew he was a coward, but he was avoiding that conversation.

“Your mother is coming this weekend.”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“Best tell her now.”

He stilled.

“You forgave Louisa, then?”

“I did,” he said without hesitation.

“Time to forgive yourself, too, kiddo,” she said pointedly.

He straightened, lips parted as if to speak, but no words formed.

“You’re not fooling me.”

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the door. He could be out of here in four strides—but then he’d have to face her again tomorrow.

Stop running.

“What do you mean?” he finally asked.

“I could see that burden you’ve strapped to your back the first day you showed up here. It’s obvious you’re looking for absolution. Just like Louisa. That girl isn’t going to be happy until everything is as it was.”

“And if that doesn’t happen?”

“It can’t happen. Louisa doesn’t understand that tragedy changes people. I’m afraid she’s in for a rough time round about my birthday party.”

“I told her the same thing.” He sat for a long time, unmoving and silent. “Am I in for a rough time?”

From behind her glasses, Maggie studied him thoughtfully. “Only if you don’t learn to lay some of this down. Anyone can see it’s killing you.”

“Nobody’s ever mentioned it before.”

She scoffed. “Then they aren’t looking hard enough.”

“Or maybe you’re looking too hard.” But he knew the truth. Nobody mentioned it because there was nobody close enough to him to notice.

Her hand was back on top of his. It made him feel like her captive. He wasn’t sure he liked it. “Tell me you don’t blame yourself for what happened to your father. Tell me you don’t think it was all your fault and that you haven’t replayed that night over and over again wishing you’d done something differently.”