Page 48 of Where Happiness Begins

“Why did you guys break up?” I ask, going from another angle. “Seemed like you were doing well.”

“That’s a long answer.”

“We have time.”

He still doesn’t explain, which probably means the problem isn’t the length of the explanation but his keenness on sharing it with me.

I decide against asking for more, not wanting to make him clam shut, but after a long moment of silence, Carter says, “We were aticking time bomb. It was…unhealthy. For me, at least. I decided to leave, and the band unfolded after that.”

Okay. That’s something, I guess.

Carter’s jaw clenches and unclenches as he continues driving as if fighting himself over what he does and doesn’t want to share. I don’t say anything else. The only way for me to truly know him will be if he wants it so.

I should want to stay away, should stop looking for things he doesn’t want me to have, but I’m hungry for all the scraps he can give me, and I can’t stop, as pitiful as that makes me.

“I can’t believe you’ve lived so much already,” I say, hoping he’ll be thankful for the slight shift in conversation.

“I’m older than you.”

“Okay, grandpa.”

He hooks one brow up.

“You’re what, five years older than me? And it’s as if you’ve lived an entire life already.”

“It’s not all it’s hyped up to be.”

“Still. You did it.” I lean my head against the window while my fingers mindlessly tangle my hair in a braid. “I’ve barely started living mine.”

“What is it you want to do that you haven’t?”

“Everything?” I smile, although there’s nothing funny about this. “I’m grateful for everything I have, but sometimes it feels like I’ve spent my life wishing for the day I could do whatever I wanted with no limits, and now that I’m here, I’ve barely scratched the surface.” Living your dreams when you’re crippled in debt,working two jobs while pushing through endless grief will put a hold on your dreams, that’s for sure. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to catch up on all the things I want to do.”

“Tell me.”

His hazel gaze is warm on my skin, tracing a pattern from my forehead to my neck and back to my eyes.

“I want to travel. I never left the country, do you know that? Never got on a plane.” I look outside the window, at the lilac and fuchsia sunset, soaking the inside of the car in a lavender haze. “I want to see what the world looks like outside of New England. I want to get drunk without fearing it’ll send me to the hospital. I want to find a new hobby. Get a tattoo. I want to figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to fall in love with someone who actually loves me for me.”

I stop myself when I might’ve gotten a little too vulnerable, especially with someone as emotionally stunted as Carter. Still, it was the truth. After the two years I spent with Greg, begging for a minute of his time, pretending to be someone I wasn’t to fit whatever mold he wanted me to, I know I either want the real thing or nothing at all. I realized too late that the way he felt toward me was more pity than love. It’s clear to me now, but at the time, I took every scrap of attention he threw my way, even if it never made me feel loved.

“You’ll do all those things,” Carter says. There’s no trace of doubt in his voice. He says this the same way he talks to the guys in the studio when he gets an idea, like he knows what’s best and nothing could change his mind. “Maybe weavoid the alcohol if it’s bad for you, but there are some pretty good mocktails. Trust me.” He shrugs a careless shoulder. “Otherwise, youwilldo them. We’ll figure out a way to make sure you do.”

We.

Such a simple word. Two letters that could mean nothing.

And yet, in this context, those two letters mean everything.

Chapter 20

When Carter walks up the stairs from the basement, I’m waiting for him.

He wasn’t expecting this—clearly. He’s wearing joggers and a white sleeveless T-shirt showcasing all those beautiful dark lines adorning his arms, his hair is mussed, and a crease from his pillow lines his cheek. For a moment, I’m taken aback at how normal he looks. Every time I see him, it’s as if he’s prepared for whatever could happen, always slightly on edge, and now, I’ve caught him off guard. For the first time, he appears entirely…human. He’s never gotten up after me, which probably explains why he let himself be this casual in the house, but I’m not going to complain. In fact, that little pillow crease makes me grin more than I’d care to admit.

Carter stops in his tracks when he sees me, hand stuck midway through his hair. “Hey.” He sounds confused, maybe even a little shy. I eat it up.

“Hey.”

---