Page 39 of Imperfectly Perfect

“Do what?” Monti laughed a little, trailing after Fallon toward the living room. “She is nice.”

“She’s very nice.” Fallon pursed her lips before sipping her drink. The liquor burned on her tongue and down her throat. Monti made the drink way stronger than she normally would have. Rolling her shoulders, she set her glass onto the side table and crossed her arms. “That’s all she is.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

Fallon wrinkled her nose.

“She’s got you all tied up, and I want to know why.”

Sighing, Fallon grabbed her drink again. She took another sip, immediately regretting the choice, and then settled into the couch. How much should she tell, and how much should she hold back? They were trying to rebuild their relationship in a new way, which would mean that Fallon was going to have to take some risks, just like Monti would have to.

“I don’t want details about you and Athena. I want to make that very clear. She’s my boss, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Understood.” Monti lifted her glass to toast, but Fallon didn’t join her.

“How are you not afraid of becoming them?” The question sucked the air right out of the room. Fallon wasn’t even sure that she could look up and meet Monti’s gaze. And all she could hope for was that she was going to get her sister Monti, not the therapist Monti. Because what she needed right now were some real, hard answers.

“I am,” Monti said, more honesty in those two words than Fallon had expected. “So I work hard every day to not become them. I honor who Mom was, Fallon, but I don’t want to be anything like her. I always got the impression you wanted to be her.”

Fallon shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “No, not in that way. I won’t allow myself to fall into the same patterns that she did, but that’s not what I’m really afraid of.”

“You’re afraid of beinghim.”

“Yeah.” Fallon clenched her fist hard. “Yeah, I am.”

“You could never be him,” Monti answered. “You have a heart.”

Fallon let out a wry laugh and drank more. “I hit my limits sometimes, and I can feel him sneaking into my brain andwrapping around my heart. You weren’t there like I was. And I have a deep-rooted fear that I’ll be nothing but him.”

“And that fear is coming up now because of Savannah?”

Fallon shrugged slightly. “There’s something about her, something that I can’t put my finger on, and I don’t want to break her more than she’s already broken.”

Monti chugged the last of her drink and set the cup heavily onto the coffee table. “I think the very fact that you’re worried about it, that it’s something you’re looking out for, tells you exactly what you need to know. You’re not him, and you’ll never be him.”

That was more comforting than Fallon had ever known she’d needed. “She’s so broken though, Monti. Her brother died recently, and she’s struggling so much with his death.”

“Something I think you can relate with.”

“Yeah, I can. But I know how long such a deep grief can last. She needs more than what I can offer.” Fallon went back to her kitchen and rummaged for some kind of food for them. She didn’t have much, having forgotten to go shopping after Savannah had shown up the other night. They’d spent hours together on the couch talking, laughing, Savannah crying and Fallon holding her. It had been simple and yet complicated all at the same time.

“Maybe what you’re offering is exactly what she needs.”

“What?” Fallon jerked her head up from the fridge. “What are you talking about?”

“Savannah,” Monti reminded her. “You’re the one who brought her up.”

“No, you did.”

“Ha!” Monti crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Why was she there today?”

“To give me something.”

“What was it?”

Fallon pinched her face, but she walked over to her purse and pulled out the small box. She still hadn’t opened it. It had been rude of her, she knew, but she was panicking. And she didn’t know what to do or say, and Savannah seemed to constantly push that one particular boundary, despite Fallon asking her not to.

“Well?” Monti stood next to Fallon, eyeing the box. “What is it?”

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