Page 57 of Sometimes You Stay

“Funny how that works.”

He squeezed her shoulders, and she snuggled in deeper against him.

“I guess no one has ever expected that of me,” she whispered. He wanted to know why that was, but before he could ask, she said, “What’s it like?”

“It’s good. Mostly. I’m happy to help. I like knowing that I’ve made someone else’s life easier.”

“But the rest of the time?”

He sat with that for a long time, rolling over the truth in his mind, trying to shape it into something that would make sense. To her and to himself. It was easy to feel things but a lot harder to give them a name.

“I like helping out my friends and neighbors. But sometimes I feel like I can’t ask for help.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy to give you a hand.”

He nodded. “Probably. But I also feel like I have to prove that I’m capable of running this business on my own.”

She shot him a question with her eyes.

“I took over this business a lot younger than my dad did. Everyone loved him. And...” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I guess people didn’t expect me to succeed. They thought I’d fail.” His dad thought so anyway, and had told at least one of his friends as much. The memory still twisted his insides, but he tried to shake off the feeling. “I’ve been trying for a long time to never let anyone down. To do enough that I’ll hear my dad say he’s proud of me.”

Cretia squirmed, her legs shifting before settling against his side again. Their breathing had synched up at some point,and with each of his exhales, she inhaled—give and take. Give and take.

“If I ever do hear those words, I’m terrified I’ll have reached the pinnacle, afraid of falling from the pedestal. I would have taken the business over from my dad no matter what because I love working with the dogs. But when my dad clamped me on the shoulder and told me he needed me to carry on the family legacy ... suddenly it wasn’t enough just to keep it going. Especially when...”

“When what?”

He swallowed the memory that nudged against the back of his mind. The words his dad had spoken. The fear that they might be true.

“I have to make him proud. I have to prove that I can do this on my own. I have to do something more than just keep the shingle out for my son. And what if I can’t do that?”

The rhythm of Cretia’s breathing changed, and the warm air from her nose against his neck stopped.

“I’ve made it awkward, haven’t I? That should have been inside processing.”

She reached for his hand that was draped over her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Of course not. I’m glad you told me.” With her other hand splayed across his stomach, she tapped a quick pulse. “Is that why you applied for a loan from the bank?”

Every muscle in his torso pulled taut. “You saw the letter on my desk?”

“I didn’t mean to read it. I just glanced at it. I know it was private. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”

A slow breath escaped through his teeth on a hiss. “It’s okay. Have you told anyone else?”

“Of course not.”

He closed his eyes as the muscles in his neck began to relax, blood pumping normally again. “If we could keep that between us, I’d appreciate it.”

“Yes. I won’t say anything—but why?”

He looked down to meet her gaze, the sincere question in the depths of her brown eyes. “You saw the letter. You know they turned me down.”

She nodded slowly. “What were you going to do with the money?”

“Expand. Hire some help. Add onto the barn.”

“That’s why you were so upset when Justin dropped off the wood. It was to help you expand, wasn’t it?”

He chuckled against the top of her hair, smoothing the silky strands across her crown and down her neck. “You read me too well, Cretia. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

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