Page 47 of The Promises We Broke
"And maybe that terrifies you because building a life means risking that it might not be the one you want. Or that you might get it and then lose it again."
Reece was watching me with the kind of careful attention that suggested she was seeing more than I was showing. "Or maybe it terrifies you because you know exactly what life you want to build, and it requires trusting that someone else wants to build it with you."
Her words hung in the air between us, loaded with truth I wasn't sure I was ready to acknowledge. Because she was right. I did know exactly what life I wanted to build. I wanted morning coffee with someone who knew how I took it. I wanted wordless communication and shared responsibilities and the kind of partnership I was watching between Booker and Reece. I wanted someone to worry about when they were late coming home, and someone who would worry about me in return.
I wanted all of that with Billie, the way I'd wanted it when we were seventeen and believed in promises that lasted forever.
But wanting it and believing I could have it were two very different things.
"When did you know?" I asked them. "When did you know that what you had was worth fighting for?"
Booker smiled that confident smile of a man in love. It suited him. He was so different from the young man he'd been whenI'd run away from this place, but I could practically see the happiness radiating from him. The quiet contentment of a man who had everything he'd never even known he wanted.
"When I realized that hiding from her wasn't protecting either of us. It was just keeping us both from being happy. When I understood that love isn't about being perfect enough to deserve someone. It's about being brave enough to let them love you anyway. And when Dex had to sit me down and basically give me the sex talk because I was too much of an ass to get out of my own way."
"I'm kind of sad I missed that part," I joked because it was easier than seeing the similarity in our situations.
I stared down at Val, who was still resting her head on my knee, offering the kind of simple, uncomplicated affection that didn't require me to be anything other than present.
"I don't know how to trust that she could want the same things I want," I admitted. "I don't know how to believe that I'm not going to screw this up the way I screwed up everything else. And I feel like a complete broken record because all of these doubts keep going around in my head and I never get anywhere because I'm stuck in them."
"Maybe you start by being honest about what you want instead of deciding for her what she can handle," Reece suggested gently. "Trust that if she's willing to try being friends with you again, she might also be willing to try being more than friends."
"And stop punishing yourself for past mistakes and start focusing on what you want to do differently this time," Booker added. "Because the difference between eighteen and twenty-nine isn't just eleven years. It's everything you've learned about yourself, everything you've survived, everything that's made you who you are now instead of who you were then."
Before I could respond, the sound of a car engine drifted through the open window. My heart did something complicated in my chest as I recognized the sound of Billie's sedan.
"That's her," I said unnecessarily.
"Yeah." Booker stood and took both their mugs to the sink before he and Reece made their way to the door, knowing that whatever was about to go down was something I needed to do alone.
"You want some advice?" Booker asked, pausing at the door.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Be honest with her about the setback. Don't try to hide it or downplay it. She's a professional. She's seen regression before, she's seen people being idiots and people making real progress in other ways. And she knows it's part of the process."
"And if she's disappointed in me?"
Reece answered this time, her voice gentle but certain. "Then she's human. But disappointment isn't the same as giving up on someone. And I don't think that woman has given up on you yet."
"What if she should?"
"What if she shouldn't?" Booker countered. "What if the thing you're most afraid of—that she might actually want to build something real with you—is exactly what you should be hoping for?"
The sound of Billie's car door slamming punctuated his words, and I heard her footsteps on the cottage porch. In a moment, she'd knock on that door, and I'd have to look her in the eye and admit that I'd sabotaged my own progress because I couldn't handle the possibility of hope.
That I'd rather hurt myself than risk discovering whether the friendship she'd offered was all she could give me, or if there might be room for something more.
The knock came, soft but confident, and I closed my eyes for a moment, gathering whatever courage I had left.
"Come in," I called, even though Booker was already opening the door.
Time to face the consequences of letting my heart lead when my head knew better. Time to find out if some setbacks were worth the breakthrough that caused them.
Chapter 16
Billie
