Page 79 of Caught from Behind

News flash—it doesn’t work.

“Ha,” she mutters, letting me know my attempt at a lame joke did nothing to veer her off course. “I’m your best friend. You saved me from drowning in a small, pathetic life and helped me find my place, my happiness. If you think I’m not going to do the same, with or without a side of stubborn, hot hockey player, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “I have a good thing going here. A good life.” A beat. “Without Riggs.”

He’s too close.

They’re all too close.

I need to retreat, need to build up my walls.

“You do have a good thing going,” she agrees. “With us. With Riggs.”

“I was wrong.” I shrug. “He’s nothing special.”

“And you’re a fucking liar.”

“Nova,” I begin.

She lifts her chin and marches to me, shoving a bag of apple fritters into my hand. I can smell the grease, the soft scent of the fruit, the spice of cinnamon, but for once, the vodka didn’t sit right in my stomach and the idea of eating anything—even my favorite apple fritters—has bile burning in the back of my throat. Especially, when Nova’s tone hardens and she says, “I never took you for a coward.”

“Fuck you,” I snap. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“Except it is, honey,” she says, voice softening. “You want to be with him, you let him in. You let him help.”

Yeah, and then what happens when he leaves?

I thought for a bit there that things might be different, but the fucking universe smacked me right back into reality.

He’ll leave.

And one day—maybe even today because I fucked up so badly—he’ll look at me like my dad does.

And…I can’t take that.

It’s why I slipped out of bed this morning before he woke up.

I had to go—have to go.

Before he does.

That burns through me and it takes everything for me to not turn and walk right out of this salon.

To run out.

But I’m an Adler. I’m stubborn as fuck. I’ll make the tough call, take the damage, and I’ll keep going.

Even if I’m about to cry, dammit.

“I have a client,” I say, blinking rapidly as I turn for the break room, intending to stow away my purse and coat. “I need to get ready.” Need to shore up some walls so that I don’t feel like I’m going to fall apart, going to shatter into a million pieces with the wrong gust of wind.

Nova curses softly then blows out a breath. “Ella, honey, I’m not trying to be a pushy jerk?—”

No. That’s my job.

I start walking.

“It’s just that you’ve spent the last couple of days shutting me out and I’m seriously worried about you.”

---