Page 69 of Some Kind of Forever
“I…” I’m not even sure I can explain to myself why I reacted the way I did, let alone explain it to someone else. I hide my face behind my hands, feeling the rough, salty trails left by my tears.
“Look, I’m cool if you just want to sit in here for a while before deciding, but I think you should come back with me and talk it out.”
“I have to open the diner tomorrow,” I croak, shaking my head.
“I hear you. But do you really think you’re getting any sleep tonight, like this? I know he’s not…”
I shake my head again, trying to disrupt the negative thought spiral threatening to take over. My finger scrapes away at the cuticle on my thumb. He’s right, of course. I should go back and work this out. Try to make it better. I hang my head, the war between my stubborn independence and a longing to be back in my boyfriend’s arms raging through my mind.
“Go inside and pack a bag. If you two can’t work it out tonight, I’ll drive you to the diner in the morning myself.”
I take a couple of minutes to decide, and Hunter doesn’t rush me. He doesn’t pull out his phone either, which is odd enough that I notice, even through the battle waging between my head and heart. Sitting with me in the silence, he shares his calm while I spiral in the passenger seat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
KAYLA
Slowly, I undo my seatbelt and grab my house keys from my purse, leaving the bag as a signal that I’ll be back. I don’t bother turning the living room light on, preferring to slide my hand down the back of the couch until I reach the hallway. Flipping on the little desk lamp in my room, I grab my backpack from the closet and stuff my Patti’s Place shirt and some black work pants inside, along with undies and my hair scarf.
I get body wash and my toothbrush from the bathroom, and just before I turn off the light, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look…sad? Worried?Tired. Maybe all three, but especially tired, and not in a needs-a-good-sleep way. This is something more complex.Exhaustion of the soul. I’m tired of fleeing from myself and from what I know will ultimately make me happy. I feel like I’m on the precipice of a life-altering decision, where I can slink back into what’s familiar, albeit lonely, or I can try something different. I can hide from the confrontation and tell Hunter to leave, or I could pivot into change, making the choice to move through this conflict without running from it. Avoidance hasn’t helped me at all, I see that now. And I don’t want to shrink back inside myself. Not with Chase. Not after everything he’s seen me through this summer.
Hunter parksin the driveway at The Bluffs and shuts off the car, waiting for me to move first. “Thank you,” I whisper, biting the inside of my lower lip to keep the tears at bay.
“Hey, what are big brothers for?” He nudges me with his elbow before asking, “You ready?”
I nod, and we start a slow trudge to the house.
“Is she okay?” Chase asks as soon as the door opens. His voice sounds tired and muffled.
“Ask her yourself…” Hunter shrugs, moving away from the entryway. He steps past Chase, who’s sitting on the stairs, before jogging up to his room.
Chase’s elbows are propped up on his knees with his fingers covering his mouth. His hair looks like it’s been raked through a thousand times, to the point where it limply falls into his eyes. He watches me for a few seconds before standing and walking over to the wide-open door behind me. I hold my breath as he reaches around me to close and lock it.
His movements are cautious, as if he’s worried I’ll turn tail and run at any sudden move.Slipping his hand around the strap of my backpack, he slides it down my arm and slings it over his shoulder without a word. When he walks toward his bedroom, I follow quietly, not daring to speak first. Dropping my bag on the chair in the corner, he turns around slowly, his eyes trained down at the floor.
He slides his hand through his hair before stuffing them in his pockets. Taking a step toward me, he chances a look into my eyes. “Can I touch you now?” he asks. He doesn’t move until I nod my approval, and even then, his steps remain slow and methodical. Bringing his head down to mine, he gently places his hands at my waist, breathing a sigh as we move closer. “I don’t like fighting with you…”
“Me neither,” I whisper back, tears brimming in my eyes.Chase brushes a finger over my cheek, catching one before it runs. He pecks at my lips softly once, twice, and a longer third time before reaching behind me to close the bedroom door. When he guides me over to the bed, we sit facing each other, knee to knee.
“I’m sorry, Kayla, about everything. You told me more than once that you didn’t want or need my help, and I wouldn’t listen. You were right, about the ego part.”
“I-I’m sorry, too, for pushing you away, and for leaving.” I bite my lip. He was right about what he had said earlier. I run. I followed the formula exactly as he said I would and left.
“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, reaching up to stroke my cheek with his thumb.
“Thank you for letting me.” I cup his face in my hands and lean in to feel his lips on mine. He sighs into me, and I just want to feel close to him again, feel like this thing between us is a little less fragile. He pulls back, looking into my eyes as he nuzzles his cheek into my hand.
“Can we talk about it?” he asks, moving his hands over mine.
I nod, biting my lip, unsure of where to start.
“Baby,” he says. “I didn’t change the tire.” He squints sheepishly, and I cover the unexpected laugh that escapes my mouth from his change of pace. He smiles while brushing a stray loc out of my eyes. “I sat out there for a good twenty minutes staring at it, deciding if I wanted to dig a deeper hole, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. It wasn’t worth it.”
“So you’re saying I have to walk to work tomorrow anyway?” I tease, nudging his knee with mine.
“Too soon…” He grimaces, shaking his head before tugging me to him. I rest my palms on his chest, and the serious look in his eye combined with the pain etched on his face drains all the humor out of me. “Watching you walk away was worse than falling out of that tree.”
“I know it looked like I blew up over a tire, and I’m sorry for leaving. I don’t mean to be hard for you to figure out, but I want to explainsomething.”
