Page 97 of Falling for Autumn Again

Ezra turns with the noise of my old engine. He winks and presses his lips in a tight line, telling me without words to not make a big deal.

But it’s difficult. Because everything inside of me knows that this is a very big deal. This is an astronomical deal. For a moment, I even forget the impossible situation Ezra and I are in.

My mother is outside.

I grind my teeth and bite the skin of my inner cheek, keeping myself in check. Because silent Ezra is right. Making a big fuss won’t encourage her to stay.

“Hey,” I say, sounding one notch too chipper.

“Hey, Autumn,” Ezra says. “What do you think of the house?”

I wander over, my steps cautious, until I am standing on the other side of my mother.Outside. The sun shines down on her pale skin.

“I… love it.” I swallow, my throat tight. “I love it.”

“Isn’t it pretty, Autumn? And look at the roses next to the blue.”

“Beautiful, Mom. The color is perfect.”

Mom sighs happily. She takes a breath—as if it were her first in five long years. “It really is.” She drops her arm from around Ezra and hums, her face tilted to the sun. “Gosh, it’s a nice day.”

My throat clenches even more and I hold back the tears begging to fall.

She pulls in a breath through her nose as if she can smell the roses clear across the yard.

A light breeze whips in the air, sending chill bumps down my arms.

Mom feels it too. “I think I’m going to make some cider. Would you two like some?”

“Um, sure,” I say, not ready to see her go yet. But then I don’t know how she got out here in the first place or how long it’s been.

“Ezra?” Mom peers over at him, squinting in the sun.

“I’ll take some,” he tells her.

We watch her walk away. She peers back just before openingup the front door, but not at us. She looks at the world she’s been missing and she smiles.

Once she’s through the door, I spin on Ezra, forgetting that I’ve been avoiding conversations with him the last couple of days. “How’d you do that?” I say with a flick to his shoulder.

His brows lift. “I just ask her to come look at my progress each day.”

“She’s done this every day you’ve been here?” How many days has he been painting… five? Six? “She’s been outside six days in a row.”

His close-lipped grin is modest. “Yeah. I mean, this is the farthest she’s gone. But she’s come out each day.” He lifts one shoulder. “I’m taking my time with the front, giving her an excuse to come see it each day.”

I run a hand beneath my nose and hold back my tears. “I can’t believe it. You never said anything.”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Or hers. We don’t talk about it. But we both know that it means something each time she steps outside.”

I can’t hold them back anymore. I can’t. I string my arms around Ezra’s back and hug him. I hold him tight and close, making sure he can’t see the tears on my cheeks. But I haven’t held him like this since we saw Mav on the street. And it feels as if my metaphorical cup is being filled to the brim. “Thanks,” I croak out.

His lips brush the hairline at my temple, but he doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t boast or brag or use this new advancement to get me to dinner or to give him a kiss. He doesn’t use it to change my mind. He’s done it all without my knowledge. For Mom. And for me too. But quietly.

The fact is, he doesn’t need to use this new development to convince me to follow him. I’m pretty sure I’m going to do so willingly, despite our obstacles and my fears. How can I not? It’sEzra. And I love him. I’m not sure I can live without him at this point.

“Things have been off between us,” he says.

“They have.” They’ve been wrong since we ran into his father. Since Mav caused a scene and made Ezra bleed. Both of us know it—it doesn’t need stating.

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