Page 91 of Our Final Encore

My cheeks heat, I didn’t expect such a tame reaction from her. Usually I can count on her to be fiery and sarcastic, even in situations like this. “Sure. But does it mean I can trust him?”

“I mean, only you can decide that, but it seems pretty genuine.” She hands the phone back to me, and I glance down at the screen again. “What are you really afraid of?”

My eyes flick to meet hers. “I told you, I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“Do youreallythink that will happen?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I know this is hard for you. It’s uncharted territory, and maybe…you even feel a little bit guilty.”

My brows furrow. “Guilty?”

She nods, pursing her lips. “You deserve to be happy, Opal. I think you’ve always doubted yourself, put other people’s happiness above your own. But you don’t have to do that.” She pauses. “The fact that your dad walked out on your mom probably doesn’t help.”

A sick feeling settles in my stomach, and I feel the need to evade Maisie’s intense stare.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’re expecting the worst because you feel like that’s all you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Things can change, evenpeoplecan change. Sometimes you have to go after what makes you happy, even if it scares you a little bit.”

The truth in her words hits me like a tidal wave. Maybe I’m afraid of taking a chance on something that will make me happy because I feel like I don’t deserve it. I’m scared that if I try to reach out and touch happiness for real, it’ll just disappear, so I’m better off not even trying.

I’ve always had trouble letting people get close to me, afraid of the inevitable pain I would feel when they left me behind. Alex is the only person I allowed to break through my walls and see who I really am. Maybe I rebuilt those walls a little too high.

“Maybe you should’ve been a therapist instead of a nurse,” I say, leaning my head on her shoulder.

She chuckles and wraps her arms around me. “Maybe I’ll be a psych nurse, who knows.”

FIFTY-FIVE

Alex

The framed photographs on the wall rattle when I slam the door behind me. I rake a hand through my messy hair and turn my head up towards the ceiling, letting out a deep sigh.

Fuck.

I want to drink. I want to get in my van, drive five hundred miles in any direction and get so black out drunk that I can’t remember my name. That only proves that she’s right. Maybe that is all I’m capable of, running away.

The thing is, I don’t want to be away from her, I just want to escape from myself and the problems I’ve created.

I scrub my hands over my face before looking around at the half-empty apartment. The one I’d planned on bringing her home to after we left the beach, but that never ended up happening, and now it probably never will.

As much as I want to feel sorry for myself, I can’t. After the hell I’ve put her though, I don’t blame her for shutting me out time and time again.

Sighing, I slump into the new couch I just ordered days ago. It’s a large tan sectional, big enough to fill up the living room. I pull my phone out and scroll through the many notifications in my instagram app. Tons of likes and comments about how great of a guy I am.If only they fucking knew.

Locking the screen, I almost toss the useless thing onto the other side of the couch before it buzzes in my hand. Opal’s name flashes on the screen and my heart stutters as I read it. I tap the green button immediately, mainly because I’m terrified of anything else happening to her or the baby.

As much as I wanted to insist that she come home with me, I knew that giving her space was my only real option. But now, I’m going to worry about her health constantly because I’m not there to keep an eye on her.

“Hello?” My heart pounds nervously against my ribcage.

“Hi…” Her voice sounds weak and apprehensive. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Relief floods through my body. As long as she’s safe and healthy I’ll be okay, or close enough to okay, anyway.

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