Chapter 10
TEN
brENDON
A few days after the fire at the school, a letter is waiting for me when I walk into the station.
I almost don’t see it. I’m so in my head and my damn feelings. It’s been three days since I last saw Abby and Daisy. It’s been three days since I promised Abby I’d give her room to realize that I meant it when I said I was here to stay.
Rationally, I know it will take time. She’s been through hell and lost so much in her life.
But I won’t give up on her. Not this time.
I find the note sitting in my locker, folded carefully. My name is written in careful block letters with a purple marker that’s already starting to bleed through the paper.
I know who it’s from before I touch it.
My hands shake anyway.
Justin notices immediately. “You good?”
I nod once, then again. “Yeah. I just… need a minute.”
He grins like he understands more than he’s saying. “Take your time.”
I sit on the edge of the bunk and unfold the paper slowly, like I’m afraid the words might disappear if I rush.
Dear Brendon,
It’s me, your friend Daisy. Thank you for being my hero.
You saved me twice. But you are my hero for another reason.
You’re my hero when you spend time with mom and me. When you’re around, she smiles more and she doesn’t look so tired all the time.
I hope you come see us again.
Love, Daisy
My chest tightens so hard I have to bow my head.
I’ve spent my whole adult life chasing usefulness. Proving I could be relied on. Learning how to carry weight without dropping it.
And here it is. The thing that matters most. Offered freely by a kid who doesn’t care about my past or my fears or my excuses.
She just wants me to stay.
I fold the letter carefully and tuck it into my jacket, right over my heart.
I don’t have to think about my next step. I know.
I don’t call first.
I don’t want Abby to have time to talk herself out of anything.
Her porch light is on when I pull into the driveway, and the sight of it does something deep and settling to my chest. Like a place waiting.
I knock.
She opens the door almost immediately, like she was already there.
Her hair is loose again. She’s wearing soft pants and an oversized sweatshirt, sleeves pushed up. She looks tired.
She looks gorgeous.
“Hey,” she says quietly.
“Hey.”
For a moment, we just stand there. The past hovers. The future waits.
Then I pull the letter from my jacket and hold it out to her.
“She wrote me,” I say.
Her breath catches as she takes it, reading slowly, one hand rising to cover her mouth.
“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh, Brendon.”
“I don’t need her to call me anything,” I say carefully. “I don’t need labels or promises or expectations.”
She looks up at me, eyes shining.
“But I need you to know this,” I continue. “I’m not here by accident. I’m not drifting. I’m choosing you. Both of you.”
Her voice trembles. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” I say gently. “I am too.”
I step closer, slow and deliberate, giving her space to pull away if she needs it.
“But I’m done running,” I say. “And I’m done assuming I’m not wanted.”
She swallows hard. “I don’t want you to promise things you can’t keep.”
“I won’t,” I say. “I’m not offering forever as an idea. I’m offering it as work.”
Her breath hitches.
“I want to build a life here,” I continue. “With you. With Daisy. If that means showing up every day and proving it, I can do that. If it means going slow, I can do that too.”
She studies my face like she’s searching for cracks.
I let her.
“There’s one more thing,” I say quietly.
She tenses. “Okay.”
“I love you,” I say. “I never stopped. But I’m not asking you to say it back tonight.”
Her eyes fill.
I take a breath. “I just want to know if you’ll let me stay.”
The silence stretches, long and full.
Then she steps into me.
Her arms wrap around my waist, her face pressed to my chest, and the way she exhales feels like something letting go after a long fight.
“I choose you,” she says softly. “And I choose us.”
I hold her tight, careful and certain, my chin resting against her hair.
“Good,” I murmur. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, a watery laugh escaping. “You realize this means you’re going to be fixing things around here forever.”
I grin. “I already started.”
She laughs, real and bright, and the sound settles something deep in me.
Inside, Daisy peers around the corner, clutching her stuffed bear.
“Is Brendon staying?” she asks sleepily.
Abby looks at me.
I kneel down, keeping my voice gentle. “If it’s okay with you.”
Daisy considers this very seriously, then nods. “Okay.”
She toddles over and hugs me, quick and fierce. “Good.”
Abby watches us, tears slipping free.
I stand and take her face in my hands, pressing my forehead to hers.
“This isn’t the end,” I say quietly.
She smiles through tears. “No.”
“It’s the part where we stay.”