Page 14 of Play On

I lift my eyes to meet his, and to my surprise, I see regret.

“Violet, is that what you think?” he asks, his voice soft. “That you’re a flake?”

“It’s the truth. I’ve heard it my whole life.”

He winces.

“Why do you feel bad?” I ask, knowing instinctively what is going on in his head.

“Because it’s not true,” he says firmly. “Do you butterfly from thing to thing? Yes. Is it because you’re a flake?No.I think it’s because you haven’t found the thing you’re passionate about doing. And Violet? I also think you’re afraid of committing to a serious role because you don’t want to disappoint people. But that doesn’t make you a woman unworthy of dating a man like Noah.”

His words, whilst meant to comfort me, are a gut punch.

“I would frustrate him once he saw the real me,” I say, my voice strangely quiet to my own ears. “I don’t have direction. I don’t have a goal I’m working towards. I’m not like him, Nicholas. All I would do is disappoint him.”

“Disappoint him? Just because your career isn’t sorted out? I don’t think so. Lots of people are figuring out careers at our age.”

I remain silent.

“But don’t you think that should be up forNoahto decide?” Nicholas asks, his gaze never leaving mine.

I swallow hard. Nicholas has no idea how much his words are hurting me right now.

Because there’s a part of me that wonders if he’s right.

“It doesn’t matter. I told Noah I had no interest in him,” I say, willing myself not to show any emotion in my voice.

“If he really likes you, it’s not too late to fix it. To explain why you said what you said. Because you’re afraid you couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him. I saw the way he looked at you. Talked to you. The last thing in the world you would do is disappoint him, because he likes you.”

“It’s too late,” I say, my voice thick now.

“Violet. I’m telling you from experience. Don’t do this. Don’t run from him out of fear. I lost out onyearswith Amelia because I didn’t come clean with my feelings. But I could have lost her forever if I had kept her away.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” I protest.

“No, because you have only lost a day with Noah. If you tell him the truth, I think he would understand.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be for Noah? You decide his fate for him and don’t give him a say in what he wants?”

“I know what he wants would not be me,” I say, rising from the table.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“It’s mine to make, though, isn’t it?”

I scrape my uneaten pizza in the bin, dump my beer down the sink, and head upstairs. The entire time I walk through the hallowed halls of our house, I hear Nicholas’s words echoing in my head, and hurting my heart.

I want Nicholas to be right. I desperately wish his words were true.

But I know who I am. I’m not the girl for a man like Noah.

And I never will be.

* * *

I wake up on Tuesday morning bright and early—thanks to the calls of Carl and Roy around five o’clock, those cheeky bastards—and decide to take on the day with a purpose. I’m starting a project today, something I can really dig into and complete from start to finish.

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