Page 54 of It's Always Us

“We’re only talking, but Pal, there’s a whole lot more to this shop than the fixing part.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Fire consumes my tight airway.

“I know you know that, but . . . running this shop will be your entire life. I don’t . . . ”

I drop my gaze to the floor, my eyes burning, but I won’t cry. I won’t do it. Not here. Not in front of them.

“Alex.” I hear Grandpa’s chair creak as he moves forward, but I can’t look at him. “I don’t want this shop to become the only thing you ever have. The only thing you think—”

“You know what this means to me.” I force out.

This garage. These guys. The customers. They’re not only part of my dream; they’re my livelihood. They’re supposed to be my future.

“Alex.” It’s Slade’s voice this time. “You wouldn’t be going anywhere.”

I can’t face him—my best friend.

I swallow, needing my throat to open. “I finished the rotation and alignment. Keys are on the board. I have to go.”

My lunch stays in the fridge while I grab my keys to figure out what in the hell I’m supposed to do. Somehow, I’ll have to overcome the pain of knowing two of the most important people in my life have so little faith in me.

______

Hurt and betrayal rage within me while panic takes hold of every part of my body. This was my plan—my future. That shop is all I’ve known and the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do for my whole life.

I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to breathe and calm my heart pounding against my ribs. I drop my head in my hands as my stomach climbs into my throat, and I debate running for the toilet.

I grew up in that garage. It’s where I felt safe and useful. It was the place where my inability didn’t matter—the only place where I excelled.

Never in a million years would I have thought Grandpa would sell. I guess it was my fault to assume he’d trust me with the business he’s spent his life building. It’s just that now . . .

My body crumples further. I know Slade will always have a job for me, but even the thought feels like a kick in the face. I can’t pretend that everything will be fine when all I thought I knew, everything I was counting on, was pulled out from under me.

I run a hand over my small protruding bump as tears finally make their escape. I can’t keep letting valuable days slip by without having a plan for how I’ll take care of this baby. I’m a mother now, and this baby is the only thing that matters. I have to start acting like it.

I suck in a breath through my hiccups, wiping my tears and snot on the cuff of my sleeve. I can’t keep letting my insecurities rule and running from the things that scare me. I can’t keep hiding from life and ignoring my responsibilities, willing everything to work out.

I lay back on my bed, letting it all go.

Eventually, I force myself up, wiping the salt-crusted tears from my eyes, and they snag on the threadbare t-shirt I’ve worn every night since I returned from Vegas.

I inhale long and deep. I wasn’t able to keep up with his life when he left here, and that likely hasn’t changed. I don’t belong in a world of the elite and sophisticated. I’m just a girl who works in a garage, piecing broken things back together.

But I can’t raise this child with half of my heart because the other half resides with someone far away.

I stare at Mark’s name on my phone, daring myself to push the call button. I count down.Five, four, three . . .I will myself to do it, but then something inside me, maybe the tiny being, screams at me.

Eight years ago, I took the easy way out. I can’t do that again. This baby is so much bigger than my fears of every unknown and uncertainty.

I back out of his contact and pull up the flight information instead. This time, I will talk to him face-to-face. I won’t run away, and I won’t hide. It’s too important.

Five minutes later, my flight is booked, and I pull my suitcase from the closet, tossing in the few items I’ll need for this quick trip.

I lug my things down the stairs and into the kitchen, dialing Linda. I leave a voicemail letting her know I won’t be able to make it to dinner tonight and ask her to tell Bree that I’ll stop by soon. Thoughts of them stir an uneasiness in my chest that I have to squash for now. I can only handle one thing at a time.

I grab the keys to my truck and glance around at my home—the place I’ve always felt safe and comfortable. But maybe that’s just it. Comfort is no longer a luxury. It’s time for me to take control and go after what I’ve always wanted, no matter how scary it might be.

Chapter 17

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