“Leo,” Ezra said, their son’s name giving rise to goosebumps along the backs of her arms. “Looks like he’s finally pulling out of his funk.” Poppy squeezed her eyes shut. Yes, perhaps he was pulling out of his depression. She only wished that he’d let her help him break the surface of that dark water; wished that she could be part of his healing, that he’d let her in. It seemed, however, that he was determined to go it alone, holding her moment of hesitation back at the house against her—that moment where all she’d done was stare at him while he’d beaten his fists against the back of their
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Get the actual fuck over yourself!!!
