Worth Fighting For (Fighting to Be Free 2)

my plate, wiping my fingers on the napkin, no longer in the mood for food. My stomach clenched, a sense of dread and trepidation settling there. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. If my mom doesn’t wake up...” I closed my eyes, hating that I now doubted she would, but it had been a week and a half; her chances were slim. “There’s Kelsey to think about,” I finished.

He nodded, tapping one finger on the table, clearly unnerved by the direction this conversation was taking, too. “If the worst ’appens and your mom doesn’t wake, what will you do?”

Hating the nervousness in his voice, I looked up at him. “I’ll be Kelsey’s guardian,” I whispered. I wouldn’t leave her again. I’d promised.

He nodded slowly and sat back in the booth; his posture seemed deliberately relaxed, like he was working to make it that way. “And do you think she’d want to come to England?”

I blew out a slow breath. I hadn’t spoken to her about it because that would mean admitting that I had doubts about our mother’s survival, but I didn’t think she would want to. It would mean giving up her friends, her home, her education, all to follow her sister to a foreign land where she didn’t know anyone. I was almost certain, without having to ask, that wouldn’t be something she would want to do at all. And I would never make her. This was her home; I had no right to make her leave it for my own personal gain.

“I don’t think so,” I muttered.

His eye twitched and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t think she would, either.”

“Would you move here?” I asked, but deep down I already knew the answer. Toby had his kids at home, he was a great dad, he loved having his kids as much as possible, and he would never move to another country. And, to be honest, I wouldn’t really want him to. I loved his kids too, and I would never want to deprive them of him.

He shifted on the bench, his shoulders hunching as he leaned forward and took my hand on the tabletop. His eyes narrowed in apology, his mouth tight. “Ellie, I...I got the boys,” he whispered.

I nodded quickly. “I know.”

He blew out a big breath and raked a hand through his hair roughly. “I’m not sure where it would leave us. We’d ’ave to find some sort of middle ground, compromise, if there is any.”

There was no middle ground here—we both knew it, but neither of us wanted to say it. “Long-distance relationships...they don’t work,” I muttered, my voice breaking as I spoke. My heart was sinking, sadness already building in my chest.

Toby swallowed and my words hung in the air for a long minute as we just looked at each other silently. He was a smart man; he knew the score and what this meant.

Suddenly he shook his head and his hand tightened on mine, squeezing gently. “Look, let’s not get our knickers in a twist ’bout it now. We’re worrying ’bout something that may never ’appen. Your mum could wake any day, and then once she was better, she’d be able to take care of Kelsey and you could come ’ome.”

Home. The word made me feel worse because now that I was back here, I already knew I was home. I’d just been fooling myself in England, hiding from my problems, trying to be a different version of myself. Now that I was back, after losing my dad and all that we were going through with my mom, I knew, deep down, that I didn’t want to leave them again, even if my mom did recover. I’d left before and wasted time I could have had with my family. I wanted to be near them again, be here for them, always. But that meant that I couldn’t be near Toby. It was a horrible choice, but one my heart and soul had already made, however much it hurt. And I think he knew it, too. His eyes held mine, his gaze understanding, but I could see the pain there.

Toby cleared his throat awkwardly. “Let’s just stick a pin in it for now. We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Your mum might be fine, and then we’re getting all worried over nothing. It’s another day’s problem.” His tone held forced cheer that I could detect a mile off.

He knew, he just didn’t want to admit it. Neither of us did. We’d had a good thing, and with one accident and phone call, our relationship was basically destroyed. We could never go back to what we’d had, and that was like a punch to the stomach.

I forced a smile too, trying to make it look genuine as I nodded. “Yeah, we’ll just focus on now and see what happens,” I agreed. I checked my watch, seeing it was almost one. “We’d better go.”

After taking another swig of his drink, he nodded and stood, picking up the bag containing his souvenirs and then holding his hand out to me. I smiled and slipped my hand into his larger one, stepping to his side and following him out of the restaurant and down the busy street toward the bus stop.

The ride back to my house was mostly silent apart from the low rumble of the engine and the soft chatter of the other passengers. It was a little awkward. We were both hurting, but instead of confiding in each other, we were both choosing to deal with it separately.

When we arrived home, Toby packed the snow globes and other trinkets into his case and then said his good-byes to my family. My nana looked extremely sorry to see him go; he had definitely won her over in a short space of time. Kelsey hugged him tightly and told him to make sure to call or there would be “ruddy ’ell to pay”—she’d definitely mastered the English terms. I watched it all with a lump in my throat. I watched how easily he conversed with my loved ones and how much camaraderie he had with my little sister, and my heart started to break. I blinked back tears, sorrow and despondency swirling in my stomach.

“Ready?” I asked, clearing my throat.

He turned back to me and nodded. “Yeah.” He turned back to my nana and smiled that charming lopsided smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges. “Thanks for ’aving me. And for packing me food for the flight.” He patted his flight bag and grinned.

“You’re welcome, dear. You come back soon, all right?” Nana said, leaning in and planting another kiss on his cheek. I walked out of the house, heading to my car, needing to be away from their final good-bye. In a way, I was already trying to distance myself. Toby had been such an enormous part of bringing me back to myself after Jamie, I owed him so much, and now it was coming to an end, and I didn’t want it to.

He followed me out to the car a minute later, slinging his case onto the backseat and sliding in the passenger door. “Your nana just made me take some more of her banana cake for the flight.”

I smiled, gripping the wheel tightly as I started the engine. “You do know you can’t take food through customs, right?”

He nodded. “I know. I think she just wanted to feel useful; she’s a carer that one, not ’appy unless people are fed.”

He’d nailed her personality traits in just one short week. I smiled and nodded, and silence fell over us again. I tried to keep my mood up, but by the time we got to the airport I was just a fraction short of tears and barely holding myself together.

When we got out of the car, Toby looked off to one side and smiled before digging in his backpack and pulling out the brown bag chock-full of sandwiches, cake, chips, and cartons of juice. “Be right back,” he muttered, jogging off. I shielded my eyes and watched him approach a homeless man who was rooting through one of the trash cans. When he handed over the package, the toothless homeless man’s gratitude was clear to see, even from where I stood a hundred or so yards away.

My heart throbbed, and again I wished things were different, that I could somehow keep him.

When Toby came back to my side, he smiled, taking my hand in his and dragging his suitcase in the other as we headed into the busy airport. I frowned, a little uncomfortable to be in the terminal again. The last time I took a flight out of here I had been alone and heartbroken. Now as I stood there again, preparing to say good-bye to the person who had helped fix me, my heart was splintering all over again.

After he’d checked in for his flight, we walked over to the security line where I wasn’t allowed to go. When he turned to me and offered me that lopsided smile, I lost the battle I was hav

ing with my tears and they started to flow relentlessly down my cheeks. He groaned and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight hug, almost crushing me in its ferocity. The hug lasted way longer than a comforting one would—it was as if he didn’t want to let go either. We were clinging to each other as people just got on with their lives around us, unaware of the pain we were sharing.

He finally pulled back, sliding his hands up my back until he cupped my neck. His watery light green eyes locked onto mine and I could see it there: understanding, acceptance, anguish. The unspoken breakup lingered in his eyes. He somehow knew I wouldn’t be going back to England, and he understood why.

“I really love you, you know?” he murmured.