Page 89 of Falling for Autumn Again

He lifts his head from its buried spot in my neck. “I’ll be back, April, with lots of samples.”

Mom—ugh. I forgot about our audience. I have been living in this lovely bubble where it’s just me and Ezra and no one else—no hurting mother, no lost father, no Mav. It’s a beautiful bubble. Sometimes I forget about everything outside it.

I clear my throat and run a hand down the front of my wrinkled shirt. I throw my hand up in a wave to Ezra, attempting to act as if that was a perfectly normal friend-hug. The kind of hug I’d give to Meg.

I am failing. It’s so not the kind of hug I’d give to anyone other than Ezra.

I swallow and peer over to see my mother’s eyes on me.

“Autumn, maybe you could stay while Ezra borrows your truck.”

Well, shoot. Bubble burst.

Might as well get this over with.

“Sure.” I huff out a breath, rocking on my heels, and pass my keys over to Ezra.

“I’ll be back with samples,” Ezra says. His eyes are on my mother but switch to me for the briefest of seconds. He winks, and then he’s out the door, off to our one little hardware shop for limited colors and overpriced paint.

I turn toward my mother once Ezra has shut the door. I cross my arms defensively over my chest. “We’re kind of together. Okay?” I say, hoping that will be the end of it.

“That isn’t what I was going to ask. That, sweetheart, is obvious. Except, there’s nokindofabout it.”

I shuffle from one foot to the next. “Oh.” I shove both my hands into the pockets of my plaid flannel jacket. “Then what?”

“Why did you ever let him go?” Her brows knit and her eyes rove over my face, as if it will spill my secrets. “Clearly, you feel just as strong as ever about him. I’ve never asked before, Autumn. But I am now. What happened?” She reaches for my hand, giving me a sad, small smile.

It’s been ten years. So, maybe it’s time to tell.

I swallow and wrap my fingers around hers. “I had to. He couldn’t stay here.”

She shakes her head. Mom knows all about Mav Bennett and the way he mistreated Ezra. She knows that boy needed out. “But—”

“But I didn’t go with him.” This is the part that’s confusing to her—and to the rest of the world.

“You didn’t,” she says, and while I don’t explain, I see it in her eyes the minute she comprehends.

She swallows and plops into one of the kitchen chairs behind her. A fragile breath falls from her chest. I sit beside her. She feelsbreakable, her frame too small for the lack of exercise she gets. She should be overweight and sluggish, with TV being her most active hobby of the day. It makes me wonder if I’m feeding her enough. “How did you know? We didn’t tell you for months after. How?” Trembling fingers press to her lips.

For the first time in my life, I don’t lie to her about graduation night. “I went out after the family party. I snuck back in, later than my curfew, and I heard you and Dad talking about his illness.”

Her shaky fingers form a fist. “You knew, but you never said anything.”

“I didn’t know what to say. I only knew what I had to do.”

“You felt you couldn’t go—”

“I couldn’t,” I say, the words stronger on my lips than intended.

“But you let him go,” she says, her dim eyes wide and glued to mine.

“I did. I couldn’t let Mav do any more damage than he’d already done. And Ezra would have stayed for me.”

She nods, understanding, and tears fill her eyes. Her head lifts. “But now he’s back and—”

“And I don’t know for how long. He says he’ll stay. But I don’t know if that’s right for him.” All those fears I so happily put to bed awake with her assumptions.

“Dearest, I understand why you made him go before. I do. And I commend your strength. You chose the most unselfish path and that’s heroic of you.”

---