Page 30 of The Fear of Falling
I don’t know how to make it work. I don’t even know if I’m capable of a real relationship. I’m too transient, and my business can’t function standing still. I’ve been doing this work for almost a decade, and I’m good at it. It makes me feel fulfilled and successful and valuable, and that’s a hard thing to give up when I’ve spent my life jumping from one thing to the next, trying to find something that sticks.
But Avery makes me feel…something.
Of course I can’t think of the right word.Important,useful,wanted. Like I matter.
Whole.
She makes me feelcomplete. And I can’t do the same for her, so I need to walk away.
I slide my phone from my pocket and pull up her number in my contacts, gazing at the picture I set for her. It’s from three days ago, and Avery looks absolutely breathtaking. She always does, but that day we found ourselves at the Piazzale Michelangelo right at sunset. The hill overlooks Florence, offering a panoramic view of the city that can’t be beat. But it’s Avery who shines the brightest in the photo, her laughing smile so much more beautiful than the city behind her or the golden sky overhead.
I delete the contact, a pang settling in my chest even if it’s for the best. I delete Dani’s info as well, though I can’t bring myself to block her number in case she texts me again. I don’t want the temptation of trying to find Avery when I can’t have her, but if the universe—or a presumptuous sister—wants us to find each other again…
Sighing, I pocket my phone and slip into the room, closing the door—and Avery—behind me.
Chapter 12
Avery
Jetlagistheliteral worst, which is why I’m rearranging my entire apartment at three in the morning. My lack of sleep definitely has nothing to do with the gold bracelet I found tucked into the side pocket of my purse when I was cleaning my bags out after I got home. It’s the bracelet I stared at so many times but didn’t buy, and somehow Benson snuck it into my purse, likely before we had the conversation about it at the wedding.
Okay, so maybe I burst into tears when I found it and spent an embarrassing amount of time stroking the tiny little stars woven into the chain, but I’m fine now.
Totally fine.
I groan as I heave myself against the massive armchair I keep in my living room, trying to force it down the hall.
I’ve decided to turn my spare bedroom into a book room because it’s not like I ever have guests, and I needed something to keep my mind off perfect men in perfect cities. Now the extra bed frame from the spare room is in pieces in my closet, themattress is tucked undermybed, and my emptied bookshelves are ready to move from my room to the spare. I figured I should get the chair moved first since it takes up the most space, but I didn’t anticipate this thing weighing a million tons.
I should have waited until Dani was back in town so I could use her help. And by Dani I mean the muscly reformed playboy she’s dating. Heck, I would take any of my cousins and their men, even if I’ve barely interacted with the guys they’re dating. Not that they’re close enough to help. Sadie’s new boyfriend lives here in Utah, but Chloe’s in North Carolina now and Lucy fell in love with Prince Edward Island along with her new man. Though, whowouldn’tfall in love with that place? Her boyfriend is cool, if unavailable to help me move furniture.
It’s eerie the way most of my cousins have all found their person recently and dumb that I can’t reap the benefits of their new relationships.
Maybe I’m just feeling lonely.
“It’s the jet lag,” I tell myself and give the chair another massive shove, managing to get the chair to slide a few inches along the carpet. At least it’s moving, but with every push I can’t stop thinking about how this whole endeavor would have been a cinch if Bens…
Nope. I can’t let myself think about him. I said we would have a clean break, and I have to make that real. Changing my phone background to one of the few pictures I have of him—the one of him kissing my cheek at the wedding—might not be a great way to keep him out of my head, but I am a strong, independent woman. I can look at a picture of a handsome man without bursting into tears.
At least, I’ll be able to do that tomorrow. Once I’m back at work and in routine and surrounded by distractions rather than left to my own devices (AKA scrolling through all the pictures Benson took with my phone). The only pictures I took were inrare moments when I was alone, so they’re all lame. If Benson was there, I was too focused on him to care about immortalizing the scenery.
My foot slips on my next push, sending me tumbling to the floor. It’s a good thing I’m on the ground floor of my complex and don’t have downstairs neighbors, or who knows what they might have heard. Thumps and scrapes and the occasional crying probably sound questionable when taken out of context.
It’s time for a break, even if I’m only getting started on the redecorating. I should be in bed, maybe with some sleep meds to get me back on the right schedule, but as soon as I fall asleep, tomorrow will come.
Tomorrow, I have to face Eric again. Despite being on the honeymoon he should have been a part of, I thought very little about my ex last week, and the space was…good. Nice. He’s always going to be my friend and my business partner, but if I learned anything from Benson, it’s that Eric and I lost our passion for each other, and I don’t think either of us really cared.
Basically, Italy brought me some much-needed closure, and I have to hope Eric came to his own conclusions so we can move on with our lives. I think it will be good to have his friend, Sonny, in town for a bit to help us with boosting our marketing strategies. Sonny can keep Eric occupied and help us scale up our business, and I can settle back into my job and find a new normal.
Talk about good timing.
“Okay, Avery,” I say, forcing myself back to my feet and rolling up my sleeves. The star-chain bracelet sparkles in the light, drawing my attention to my wrist and sending a sharp pang of longing through me. I shouldn’t be wearing it while moving furniture, but seeing it next to the one I bought myself, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to take it off. I shake my head and focus on finding the will to move the chair that’s twice my size. “You’regoing to get this chair in the room, and then you’re going to move all your books because you were stupid enough to put them on your bed instead of the floor, and then you’re going to go to sleep because you have to work in the morning.”
Never mind that it’s already technically morning.
I rub my hands together and take a deep breath. I’m strong enough to take care of myself, and I can move a chair. Easy peasy.
It takes me almost an hour with a multitude of breaks, both to give my muscles a rest and to pump myself up again.
