Page 28 of Fall For You

“I don’t know how what feels?” he asks. His voice is quiet, his eyes are cold, his entire demeanor is…hostile. “What is it you think I don’t know?”

And I should heed that warning. I should read the room. I should know better than to say, “You don’t know what it’s like to be abandoned.”

“Abandoned?” He laughs in response—actually laughs! Although it’s a cold and ugly sound. “Oh, I think I know quite a bit about that actually. Thanks to you.”

Nails, meet coffin.

My heart is beating hard and heavy—like a hammer against the anvil of my chest. Because, holy fucking shit, he’s absolutely right. I’ve become the thing I hate. I’ve become my freaking parents.

But no; it’s even worse than that. I’ve become the fantasy version of my parents. The version in which they woke up one morning and realized what they’d done. The one in which they instantly regretted having lost me. It’s a lie, that version. It’s a fairy tale that exists only in the minds of orphans.

Except, of course, that in my case, it’s real. I do regret my actions. I hate the fact that I abandoned Carter. I hate it so, so much.

But that doesn’t matter, does it? It changes nothing.

And of course he doesn’t believe me when I tell him that I love him. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe me, either.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Carter

Abandoned?Oh, I think I know quite a bit about that…

My words, and the sound of my laughter, hang in the air. And, even if there were a way to take them back…I don’t think I could. I meant what I said. And, much as I hate the idea of causing Jo pain, even unintentionally, it needed to be said.

All the same, it hurts to see the look of devastation on her face, and to know that I’m the one who put it there.

I did this. I hurt her. And I don’t know how to fix it.

“C’mere,” I say, moving towards her, arms held wide. She doesn’t move away, or protest as I pull her into what’s very much a one-sided embrace. She’s like a statue in my arms. A warm, soft, living statue; but a statue all the same. “It’s okay, you know?” I tell her. “It is what it is.”

“You said that already,” she mumbles, words muffled against my chest.

“Did I?” I mean…probably I did. I said a lot of things. And it’s like déjà vu all over again. Right now, I feel like we’ve said and doneallof this before. It needs to stop; we can’t keep doing this to each other. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs after a moment.

I lean back far enough to look at her. “You’re sorry for being right?” I tease. “Wow. That’s a first.”

I was hoping to lighten the mood, but that’s a no go. She shakes her head. “No. For everything. For hurting you. For not… For not doing better, not being a better person.”

“Stop it,” I say. “You’re already the best person I know.”

“I’m not,” she says sternly. “I can’t be. Or if I am then…shit, that’s really pathetic, Carter.”

I shrug. She isn’t wrong. Then I press her head back against my chest. It felt good there and it seems to me that very little about tonight has felt that way. Idon’tsay, ‘it is what it is’ again, but you can be sure I’m thinking it.

“I think I could do better,” Jo says after a minute. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask this but… Maybe, if I had the chance…”

She pulls in a deep breath, and I feel her body tense—like she’s about to shift away from me. And I’m just not ready to let that happen. So, I snuggle her close and stroke her hair and tell her, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Why?” Jo’s tone is wary. “What areyousorry for?”

“Pretty much all the same things you said,” I tell her. “I’m sorry about what I said. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I—” I break off when I realize what I’m about to say—that I hadn’t meant to hurt her. But that’s a lie, and I don’t want to go there. I’m already up to my ears in lies of omission; actively lying, though? That has to be the place where I draw the line. “Actually, I did mean to hurt you; and that is… That is so fucked up. I think that’s what I’m most sorry for.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it? What you said—that’s how you feel?”

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