“But things don’t last. Nothing does. The honeymoon phase is over, and then reality kicks in, and it’s just a bigger mess.”
I think of Ryder again and how I can’t risk ruining his life like mine was.
I force a swallow down my throat. “I don’t remember the day we were removed from our home very well. I have random flashbacks about chocolate chip cookies and milk. But that’s about it.”
“That’s the snack they gave us at CPS.”
Oh. “But you know what I do remember? I remember the first night lying in bed and feeling so scared and so alone.” Tears fill my eyes again. “And Nate’s little boy—he loves me. We have the kind of relationship that will have us growing close. Bonding. And what if something happens someday and I need to leave? Or Nate leaves me? What does that do to Ryder?” I stand. “It keeps the cycle of pain going, Hollis. It transfers the shit that happened to us into Ryder.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does.” My heart beats so hard that I grip the sofa for support in case I pass out. “It takes my abandonment issues, my fears, my stupid shit, and puts them on a little boy who has his own mess with his mother. That will come creeping back to him at some point and I’ll be damned if I’m going to add any load onto that poor boy.”
Tears stream down my face in hot rivers.
“We can’t just live our lives without thinking about what could happen to other people. And I’m too much of a risk.”
Hollis gets to his feet and pulls me into a hug again.
“What do you need me to do?” he asks.
I pull away as my phone buzzes again.
Nate: Are you okay? I’m getting worried.
I look at my brother. “Can I stay here tonight? Maybe a couple of days?”
“Of course.”
He glances at my phone as it goes off again.
Nate: Hey, call me.
“What are you going to do about him?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
Hollis takes a step back. “I think you owe him a conversation. If he was going to propose to you, he loves you. He wants to be with you forever. And I know you love him.”
“You do?”
He chuckles. “Yes. So go talk to him. I’ll come if you want me to. But at least let him know you’re okay and that you’re safe. It’ll mean a lot to him, and he hasn’t done anything wrong. Just loved you too hard, maybe.”
That’s true. Nate’s only offense was loving me too hard, too fast. And I can’t punish him for that.
“I’ll go talk to him,” I say.
“Want me to come?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. He’s not going to hurt me.” He’d never hurt me.
“Call me if you need me,” he says.
“Thanks, Hollis.”
I carry my phone to the door and step outside. Then I look at the sky.
How am I going to do this?
Me: I’ll be home in a minute.
As I read that back—home—I cry again.
THIRTY
NATE
“Hey, where have you been?”
My heart drops to the floor.
“Hi,” Paige says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes are dark, her lips swollen, as she stands in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Have you been crying?” I ask her. “Paige, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. Honestly. I’m fine.”
She’s not fine. That much is obvious. But what happened?
I reach for her to pull her into me, to comfort her—but she pulls away.
My blood runs cold.
I set my Snack Pack down and try to stay calm.
“Where is Ryder?” she asks. “He’s with Camilla today, right?”
I force a swallow. “Yeah. They’re riding horses or something.”
“Nate, we need to talk.”
My shoulders fall. She could very well say a million things—there are all kinds of reasons to talk. But I know what it is.
I grip the edge of the counter and look at her. “Why?”
It’s the simplest word yet the hardest to say.
Tears pool in her eyes as she looks down. “I just need some space.”
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why? Why are you leaving because that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”
My eyes sting, unwilling to blink. There’s no way she’s leaving me. Not after everything we’ve shared.
“Paige, I love you—”
“I know.” Tears fall down her face. “I know you do, and I love you too.”
“Then why are you leaving? What happened? I don’t understand.”
She looks around the kitchen. At the spot we shared our midnight snacks. Where we stood to make dinner as a family. Where I kissed her before she went to her room—before she stayed in mine. Ours.
“Talk to me so I can fix it,” I say, the words rushing out. “Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”
“Nate—”
“You were fine this morning. You left here happy, and we made plans for tonight. I’m supposed to be taking you to dinner right now, and you’re in here breaking my fucking heart.”