Page 22 of The One Who Risked it All

“There was this one student last year,” she continued, her voice soft but filled with pride. “He was so shy, could barely look anyone in the eye. But by the end of the year, he was leading class discussions, helping other kids. That kind of transformation... that’s why I do this.”

Her face lit up as she talked about her students. I’d never really seen this side of Carla before, and I was struck with a twinge of regret for all the years we’d spent avoiding each other.

“Sounds like you’re making quite the impact,” I said, meaning every word. “Those kids are lucky to have you.”

She glanced at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Thanks, Eli. That... means a lot.”

For a moment, we were both silent, the only sound the laughter of the boys ahead and the whisper of the wind through the trees. We were so close, it would be easy to reach out and take her hand. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead, I shoved my hands in my pockets and focused on the path ahead, trying to ignore the way my heart raced every time she smiled.

The Carla I knew in high school was vivacious and fun. She cared about school and being popular. She was kind and far too smart to be with me. Nevertheless, my seventeen-year-old self was terribly convinced that she was perfect.

That girl was still there, but she was also someone strong, passionate, with a depth that was undeniably intriguing. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: I’d missed out on watching her become this incredible person.

“You’ve really grown,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “I mean, not like, physically grown. Well, you have, but—“ I stumbled over my words, as if I’d been body snatched by an awkward teenager. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re an impressive woman.”

She raised an eyebrow at me, a mix of amusement and skepticism on her face. “Impressive, huh? High praise from the town hero.”

I winced internally at her words. If she only knew how far from a hero I felt most days. “I’m serious,” I insisted. “The way you talk about your students, your dedication... it’s admirable.”

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. What I wouldn’t give to see it more often. “Well, thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, Eli. When you’re not being a complete pain, that is.”

I chuckled, but there was a heaviness in my chest. How different would things be if I hadn’t pushed her away all those years ago? If I’d been brave enough to stand up to my dad?

A gust of wind whipped through the trees, and Carla shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Without thinking, I shrugged off my jacket and held it out to her. “Here, take this.”

She looked at the jacket, then at me, surprise evident in her eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t—“

“Come on, Putters. I’m not gonna let you freeze out here. What kind of gentleman would that make me?”

She snorted. “Since when are you a gentleman?”

“Ouch.” I placed a hand over my heart in mock hurt. Entirely imaginary. Definitely not offended that she considered me a… What did she consider me?

“What’s the opposite of a gentleman?” I pondered out loud.

Her hand flew to her mouth to cover a sharp laugh. “What?”

“Well, if I’m not a gentleman, what am I? A cad?”

She tapped her chin with a finger, and my eyes caught on the red polished fingernail. “A boor, perhaps?”

“A bore? Surely not. I’m far too interesting to be a bore.”

I held out the jacket again, and this time Carla hesitated only briefly before reaching for it. Our fingers brushed as she took it, and I swore a jolt of electricity shot through me. It was ridiculoushow such a small touch could affect me, but I couldn’t deny the way my heart started racing.

“Aboor,” she corrected, drawing out the word like she was savoring it. The jacket swallowed her petite frame, and I couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked in the oversize garment.

“You know, rude, uncultured, eats with his mouth open. That kind of thing.”

I smirked, slipping my hands into my pockets as the chill nipped at my now jacketless arms. “Well, I do chew with my mouth closed, so maybe we can strike that one off the list.”

She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Fine. Not a boor. But definitely not a gentleman either. What about… a rake?”

My grin faltered for a fraction of a second before I leaned into it, keeping the edges sharp. “A rake, huh? Charming, dangerous, irresistible? I mean, I’ll take it.”

“Rakes aren’t exactly known for their good intentions,” she pointed out, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “It’s more like charming, dangerous,irresponsible.”

“Semantics.” I waved her off like it didn’t sting more than I cared to admit. “Besides, you’re still standing here warm and toasty while I am jacket-free, freezing to death. Dangerous? Sure. But irresponsible? Case closed.”

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