She was teasing him, but it wasn’t funny. It was dark and scary in here with the blinds closed.

“Will that satisfy you?” she repeated.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Hey. I’ve taught you to say what you mean. So don’t say ‘mmm-hmm’ if it isn’t what you mean. What’re you afraid of? You can tell me.” She looked right at him, challenging.

“That you’ll die.”

She smoothed his hair, then took hold of his shoulder. “I promise you that I won’t die.”

She was his mom. He believed her. He needed to believe her.

“I’ll go to the doctor and get medicine,” she said, “and they’ll fix me up. I’ve never let my health beat me once. I’m a fighter. You know that about me, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m raising you to be a fighter, too.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t let fear have control. We’re Grants, and Grants are strong. We can do whatever we put our minds to.” She shooed him. “Now go make me another Pop-Tart. I don’t think one will be enough.”

He’d made her another Pop-Tart, but it had gone to waste. She’d only eaten half of the first one.

When she’d died, and for a long, long time after, his feelings had been on one side of a glass pane while his body had existed on the other side. No longer. Leah had broken the glass, and now he was experiencing the weight of every emotion he’d never wanted to feel.

“You can’t let fear have control,” his mother had said.

Too late.

He did not want to be parted from Leah. Just the idea of that turned his stomach. Yet to love her then lose her would cost more than he could afford. His mom’s death had sent him down a destructive path that had lasted for years. What would the loss of Leah do to him?

He turned away from the rail and interlaced his hands behind his skull.

Already, he’d put himself at risk by allowing Leah to become one of the most important things in his world.

He’d made a mistake—a mistake he’d just tried to fix by breaking up with her.

A deep, black hole opened in his soul.

Upon arriving at home, Leah immediately shut herself in her room. She sat on the floor, leaned against the foot of her bed, and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

She would not behave like a lovelorn girl and cry!

A soft knock. “Leah?” Dylan asked.

“Hmm?”

“Everything cool?”

Their roles had reversed. She was the one hiding in her room and he was the one checking on her. Affection lumped in her throat. “Yes. Everything’s cool.”

“Sebastian called earlier, wondering where you were.”

“I saw him. It’s all good.”

“Sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“’Kay.” His footsteps retreated.