Page 57 of How to Walk Away

Chip broke into a smile. “That’s something. I can work with that.”

He did not deserve to be smiling right now. But I couldn’t have said no, and we both knew it. I wasn’t ready to give up on Chip. He’d just failed a test of love, yes. But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—decide it was the only test that would ever matter.

“And will you wear the ring?” Chip pushed.

Did I want to wear that charred, bent ring? Not really. It was a bit too close to forgiveness. But I let him slide it on my finger anyway. I was too tired to be strong about this. And, more than that: Letting go of my past and my future at the same time felt like more than I could bear.

As he nudged the ring into place on my finger, Chip gave a relieved burst of laughing and crying at the same time, and at this range I got a sour whiff of alcohol. “It’s a little bent,” he said.

“It fits better now, though.”

“Can I kiss you?” Chip asked.

I nodded, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. I felt, more than saw, him leanin. I held still and braced for impact. When his lips touched mine, I tried like hell to feel something. And I did, in a way, but it was not something any kiss had ever made me feel before. It felt like a reminder of exactly how life used to be—followed by an ache of sorrow that it might be gone for good.

Thirteen

AT THE KISS,Kitty and my dad took off, assuming, as you might, that Chip and I wanted to be alone.

In truth, what I really wanted was time to talk to Kitty. And to give my dad a little hug for wounds he didn’t even know he had. And to figure out where the heck my mom had disappeared to.

But Chip did not remove his face from mine for a good while.

Something about him kissing me made the burns on my face itch. I tucked my hands under my blankets to remind myself not to scratch.

While I was waiting for him to finish, Ian walked in.

“Smooching hour is over, folks,” Ian said.

Chip pulled away, and we both turned toward Ian.

Ian always looked annoyed, but now he looked extra annoyed. “Time for your therapy, Maggie Jacobsen. Maybe your man can help with your transfer while I grab a coffee.”

I shook my head, like,Definitely not.“He hasn’t had any practice.”

Ian raised his eyebrows. “Well, there’s nothing to it.”

Chip turned to me. “What did he say?”

“He’s Scottish,” I said. “He wants you to help me transfer to my chair. He says there’s nothing to it.”

Chip frowned, like this was another test he was bound to fail. “Maybe you could show me,” he said to Ian.

Ian frowned. “You want me to show you?”

Chip nodded, and, as ever, I read his face so well. He thought getting a lesson would get him out of having to do it himself.

Ian shrugged. “It’s not rocket science, man, but if you want a lesson, let’s go. For Maggie’s sake, if nothing else.”

Chip looked at me. “Did he just call you Maggie?”

I shrugged. “He can’t pronounce Margaret.” I turned back to Ian. “I don’t need help.”

Ian shook his head. “You do.”

“That’s not what you said before.”

“Before, I was teaching you a lesson.”

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