Page 37 of Dare to Fall

“How did you do it?” I asked.

His brows furrowed. “Do what?”

“You said, ‘Take it from someone who knows.’ I’m assuming that means you’ve been in a similar situation. Living your life for everyone else. So how did you break free from that and start living for yourself?”

It was a personal question, aimed to unveil an intimate decision. I hardly knew the man, but as he wanted to get to know me, I also wanted to know him. It was dangerous territory given everything I still had to sort through with Connor. I was vulnerable, and I knew it. But there was something pulling me toward the edge, taunting me to take a leap.

Garth sat back in his chair, never once taking his eyes off me. A look of anguish flickered across his face, there one moment and gone the next. I waited silently, giving him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

“When I was young, I lost someone very close to me. She was my best friend’s sister. Our families were very close, and when she died…well, it was like losing my own sister. The day she died, I promised myself that I would live my life to the fullest because she wasn’t able to.”

Tears sprung to the backs of my eyes. I couldn’t imagine losing someone I loved, especially at such a young age. A wave of grief washed over Garth’s face, his hazel eyes turning somber, his jaw set to stone. I wanted to take it all away from him, the suffering he felt from the loss. My fingers twitched with the need to reach out to him from across the table. I clutched them at my sides for fear that I might lose control and actually do it.

“I’m so sorry, Garth. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t keeping it a secret,” he interrupted, his eyes softening slightly around the edges.

A comfortable silence fell over us as the waitress returned with our food. We both dug in. The salty sweetness of butter and syrup danced on my tongue as I took a bite of my Belgian waffle.

“Mmm,” I sighed. My stomach grumbled in response as I swallowed down the bite of food.

Garth let out a deep, husky laugh. The sound of it coursed through me, landing deep in my bones. It was one of the best sounds I’d ever heard. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I thought you might like the food here. It’s one of my favorite breakfast places in the city.”

“It’s so good,” I said between mouthfuls. “I didn’t know that waffles could be this fluffy!”

“I’m glad you like it,” he laughed again before taking a bite of his scrambled eggs.

“Why didn’t you become a professor like Dr. Nickolson?” I asked.

Garth finished chewing and took a sip of water. “I just—”

“Well, look at what we have here. Hello, Eva darling.”

My silverware clattered against the ceramic plate as I turned to find Connor’s mother standing right next to our table. Thick blonde hair fell over her shoulders in expertly crafted waves. Her face was done up with just the right amount of makeup that highlighted her features without making it look like she tried too much. The black Celine tote she carried was more expensive than a semester of my tuition, and she had an entire closet filled with designer bags just like it.

Perfection. That was exactly what Mrs. O’Brien was, and it was exactly what she expected from everyone who entered her life.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Brien,” I squeaked. “What are you doing here?” The question fell out of my mouth before I even knew what I was saying.

She narrowed her gaze at me, and I immediately felt small. Mrs. O’Brien always had a way of making me feel lesser than. It didn’t matter how hard I worked or how much I loved her son. In her eyes, I would never be good enough. My father was a commercial fisherman, and my mother chose to forgo her own education so she could be at home and raise my sister and me. Mrs. O’Brien never let me forget that I came from a working-class family. It was one of the reasons I tried so hard to be at the top of my class in college. I wanted to prove her wrong. I was just as capable of doing well in pursuing medicine as her son was, despite the fact that I had a lesser pedigree. Over the past three years, I’d shown her that with my straight As and coveted clinical experiences. But still, she looked at me like I was no more than a bug under her Louboutin heel.

She turned away from me and focused her attention on Garth. I was amazed at how he remained composed under her scrutiny. Fidgeting with the napkin on my lap, I looked between both of them as they stared each other down. The tension was palpable, and I wanted nothing more than to run away.

I’d been caught sitting across from a man who was not my boyfriend and who was not Mrs. O’Brien’s son. If Connor and I did work things out, I was sure that his mother would never miss an opportunity to throw this moment in my face.

I needed to say something and fast. “This is Garth Walker. He’s an artist. He covered for my photography class professor last week.” Sweat dripped down my back, and it wasn’t from the Florida heat.

Mrs. O’Brien pursed her lips. Turning back toward me, I felt the weight of her judgment come down on me like an ax slicing right through dried wood.

“Since when are you taking photography classes?” She raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at me.

“Oh! I…uh…decided to pursue a minor in photography. I’ve always enjoyed it and thought it might help balance out my course load,” I stammered.

She adjusted her pale-gray suit jacket over her shoulders. “Declaring a minor the year you take the MCATs and apply to medical schools…” she tsked. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Eva. I think it might be best if you focus all your energy on yourrealcoursework and the new internship you will be starting with us next semester. Don’t you think?”

I knew it was a rhetorical question, but I answered anyway. “Yes, Mrs. O’Brien.”

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