Page 88 of The Fear of Falling
There’s another email from the Australian company, presumably offering me more perks based on the first few lines, but that’s the last thing I want to look at right now. Same with the string of texts from Phillip Rogers with more ideas for R&Q’s marketing plan, as if I’m part of the company instead of a temporary blip in their story. And email after email from potential clients and past clients and upcoming jobs leave me feeling like I have nothing left of myself to give.
I hate how badly I want one of these texts to be from Avery, telling me she’s changed her mind and isn’t ready to give up on me. But she’s not going to do that because she’s grown too much over the last few weeks to set aside self-respect. She made the right choice by cutting me loose, even if her choice leaves me feeling like I’m never going to breathe again.
My hand shifts to my pocket, where the bracelet Poppy gave her seems to burn through the fabric and into my skin like it knows things are over between me and its owner. Whether Avery knows I have it, I can never give it back now. Not when it might be the only thing I have left. I pull it out, slipping it onto my wrist even though it makes my chest ache to see the little pink stone and the love it supposedly represents.
Sitting up with a groan, I run a hand down my face, trying to decide what to do next. I don’t want to abandon Avery to deal with her car on her own, but neither do I want to force my presence on her now that she’s done with me. Now that it’s not the middle of the night, I can find her a tow truck and pay for everything in advance to alleviate some of that stress, but she’s still going to have to get home. Get a rental. Figure out insurance. Things she shouldn’t have to face alone.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and my eyes slide to the text that drops down from the top. I read the short message, then blink, not sure I saw it right. But after three more read-throughs, the words stay the same.
Kimball:
For the record, you’ve always been a pain in the butt, Benson. But never a failure.
I don’t… What does… I stare at the text with my breath held in my lungs and my body tense, like I’m waiting for the knockout punch that’s coming now that he’s caught me off guard. But it doesn’t come.
This isn’t the kind of text someone sends at six in the morning just for fun.
Never a failure.He can’t really mean that. Can he?
I sit frozen, staring at my phone until my dad’s words from last night repeat in my head, echoing Kimball’s text.You’ve always been worth my notice.
Neither of these things make any sense. They don’t fit with the life and family I’ve known, but my dad has never been a liar. Neither has Kimball. If they didn’t want me around, they wouldn’t bother saying things that make me want to stay.
Oh.
I press a hand to my chest, feeling like my heart is going to give out on me as that realization hits me hard.I want to stay. I’m so tired of running. Hiding. Pretending I haven’t been slowly falling to pieces with every year I’ve remained unsettled. All that time I’ve spent staring at the mountains over the last couple of weeks, and I’ve been too stupid to realize that I’ve beenhomesick. Desperate for a safe place to land.
And when I finally found it—foundher—I went and messed everything up.
“Who are you?”
Startled by the sound of a small voice, I look up to find a little girl in the doorway of the den. She must have come up from the basement, the first of the kids to wake up, and she’s staring at me with narrowed eyes as she hugs a stuffed cow.
I swallow. “I’m Benson. Your…your uncle.” I’ve met her before. I know I have, but I struggle to remember who she is. One of McKay’s, I think? “What’s your name?” I hate that I have to ask.
She tilts her head to the side. “Marilee. I have a Uncle Benson?”
Cursing under my breath, I run a hand through my hair and look around the dim room as if I might find someone to save me from this conversation. Of course she doesn’t know me. “Apparently,” I mutter.
“I just know about Uncle Kimball and Uncle Sonny,” she says, a bit of pride in her voice. “I see Uncle Kimball lots, but Dad says Uncle Sonny lives far away and is always helping people. So he’s kinda like a superhero, and that’s why we don’t see him.”
The air slides from my lungs, leaving me dizzy. McKay said that? Aboutme?
“Are you going to live with Grandma and Grandpa?” Marilee asks, inching closer now that I’m no longer a stranger. She’sstudying me with unveiled interest, like discovering another uncle is the best thing to happen to her all week.
“No.” The word tastes bitter, especially when Marilee’s shoulders fall, and I scramble to amend my answer. “But I can come visit.”
She smiles and flops onto the couch next to me, talking to her stuffed cow on her lap. “I like when we visit Grandma. She makes us waffles and lets us put chocolate on them.”
I can’t stop the laugh that eases out of me. “Chocolate, huh?”
“Chocolate’s my favorite. Is it your favorite too?”
My mind drifts to Florence and tiramisu and kisses under the Tuscan moon as my eyes slide to the bracelet I’m wearing. “My most favorite,” I breathe as something settles inside me, simultaneously easing the ache and making it sharper. I think I’ve made the worst mistake of my life.
But it might not be too late to fix it.
“Hey, uh, I need to…” I frown down at my niece, unsure about the proper way to end this conversation. “Do you need any help?”
