each other?”
His hands tightened on the wheels of his chair.
“Lisa and I dated.”
The words hit me like a train.
“No.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
For six months I had cared for him.
Fed him.
Helped him through migraines.
Listened to his nightmares.
And never once had he mentioned my daughter.
Not once.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because I was a coward.”
The answer came immediately.
Without hesitation.
As if he had rehearsed it a thousand times.
Rain tapped softly against the bedroom
