Page 70 of Don't Fall

“I’m not sick, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Her hand flies up to land on my forehead. “Are you sure? You look all pasty and sweaty. You could have a fever.”

I shuffle back a few steps to get out of her reach, ducking my head out of her hand as I move. “I don’t have a fever. I do however seem to have an art gallery. Care to share?!”

She shrugs, turning away in a hurry. “Not really. We already talked about that.”

I speed up to catch up with her. “No, you talked about wanting to use my house as a gallery and I very specifically said I didn’t want to. How did you misunderstand that?”

“I didn’t so much misunderstand as I simply ignored.” She stops with a loud sigh. “Lane, I love you and I think you’re pretty much the most amazing person I know. The only thing I don’t like about you, is how much you refuse to see all of your amazingness yourself. You’re always so busy trying to accommodate everyone else. First, our parents. Then Olivia. So, I was kind of stoked when you blew off that whole life you built for everyone else and went off on your crazy quest to fuck it all and do your own thing, whatever the hell that was going to look like.”

“You were not stoked. You were right there with everyone else telling me how I was being stupid and screwing up my life!” I remind her, my voice getting louder than I intend it to.

“Yeah! Because you weren’t doing shit with your chance.” She shoves me into the nearest room and shuts the door. Then she really lets loose. “I thought you would really go all out, be free, be you! But instead you take some psyche teaching job, you still walk around wearing those boring ass khakis and long sleeve shirts, and worst of all – you completely give up the thing you love most. You went from conforming to going into complete hiding. Not exactly what I had envisioned for you.”

“What do you suggest I do, Alexis? Just pretend the last decade of my life didn’t happen? You’re not asking me to be who I really am. You want me to be who I was. That guy doesn’t exist anymore. He stepped away from a childhood fantasy and pursued a man’s career. I’m sorry if you think that makes me boring or pathetic or whatever.” I lose steam toward the end of my argument. I can’t remember what point I was trying to make anymore.

“I want you to be happy, Lane. That’s all.” She throws her arms in the air, waving them up and down in front of me. “This, you, the man you are now, doesn’t look so happy to me.”

I sigh, dropping back onto the hospital bed closest to me. “You took my greatest humiliation and you put it on display in the house that was previously keeping it caged and out of sight,” I say under my breath.

“No. I exposed her ugliness and your talent, and I used a house that was keeping you trapped to set all those truths free. For you to see. For everyone to fucking see.” If ever there was a person who couldn’t admit they were wrong. She comes to take a seat beside me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What is all of this really about? And don’t make it about the stupid pictures again, because we both know you’ve shown vulnerable shots way beyond those in the past. It’s what made you stand out in the first place.”

Raking my hands through my hair and over my face, I let the last week blur together in my mind. I’ve gone out of my way not to think about them, not to look back and analyze, but then I got the prints in the mail today. The ones I just couldn’t wait to order, so I’d done it the same night I took them. Yet one more stupid move to add to the list.

Rather than answer her, I let the pictures speak for themselves and hand her the envelope. I haven’t looked at them yet, but if history has taught me anything it’s that they’ll show clear as day what I couldn’t see for months.

Alexis doesn’t say a word. Just slips her finger under the flap to rip it open, then slides the prints into her palm and begins to flip through them.

When she gets to the end, she starts over.

“These are beautiful,” she whispers sounding genuinely moved.

“I’m glad you find my talent for exposing people’s hidden agendas so intriguing,” I say snidely.

She sits up straighter, stare boring into the side of my head. “You haven’t looked at these, have you?”

I shake my head. “No need to this time. She came clean all on her own.”

“I don’t know what that means,” she says sounding suddenly agitated. “Came clean about what? Why are you so pissed? You’re crazy about this woman and she’s clearly in love with you. What is your major malfunction, jackass?!”

“What?” I snatch the pictures from her hand like a drowning man gasping for air. “Where did you see that?”

“Oh my God, where did you miss it?! It’s everywhere!”

“Holy shit.” She’s right. It is. It’s everywhere, in every frame, every twinkle of her gorgeous eyes, every quirk of her sexy smile.

It’s real.

Everything between us, it’s as real as it gets.

And that can only mean one thing.

“She lied to me.”

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