Page 60 of Chasing Stars
“Well, you have a few options,” Miles interjects. “We could just list the house as is. You might get a decent price if we market the land and sell it to flippers or developers. A developer will come in, knock it down, and build two in its place.”
“Knock it down?” I repeat. I am unprepared for the sting of tears at the back of my eyes. I shake my head vigorously. “No. I don’t want that. I don’t want someone to come in here and tear it down.”
Miles groans, rubbing his palm down his face, his jaw ticks in frustration. But then he puts an arm around me, pulling me close and grounding me with the contact—reminding me that we’re in this together. “Okay. What else you got, Danny?”
Danny runs a hand through his hair then hands the notebook to Liam. “The other thing is…and I don’t usually do this, but Miles really cares about you.” He pauses when Miles elbows him and heat floods my cheeks, my eyes brimming with stubborn tears. “You can finance through me. We’ll come up with a payment plan and finance what you can’t cover.”
I take a breath, and then I can’t fight the tears anymore. I angrily bat at the one rolling down my face and sniffle. “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “This isn’t exactly what I signed up for when I came back here.”
“It’s okay,” Danny says soothingly.
Miles says nothing, and panic rises in my chest again. What seemed doable only an hour ago now seems insurmountable. I pass Pete’s leash to Miles. “I need a minute,” I say, rushing past the three dumbfounded men.
I think I hear Liam tell Miles to come after me, but he doesn’t. I retreat upstairs to my room and pace.
What am I going to do? I never planned on staying here. I didn’t ask for this house.I suck in rapid, shallow breaths, panicrising like bile, burning my throat. My chest is constricting, suffocation creeping in. I walk over to the dresser and pick up a photograph in a tarnished gold frame. It’s me with my parents at the Washington Street Mall. We’re all holding swirled ice cream cones, grinning at the camera. We took this photo right after we bought the house. “What do I do, Daddy?” I whisper to the picture. My dad’s memory comes and goes in my mind, after all, I was only nine when I lost him. But what I remember most about him is that he always knew what to do. Much like Miles.
Miles is another problem. I wasn’t planning on staying, but in just a matter of weeks, he feels like my partner. And yet I’m up here, freaking the hell out, and he didn’t come after me. I let out an involuntary wail and crouch down on the floor against the dresser. Burying my face in my arms, I succumb to big, heaving sobs.
A moment later, the construction noise stops, distracting me from my meltdown. I hear a few voices and then footsteps up the wooden staircase. My door creaks, and when I look up, there he is. Leaning in the doorway, Miles meets my gaze and his expression clouds with compassion and concern. He doesn’t wait for me to invite him in. He rushes to me, sits down next to me, and folds me in his arms. He brushes my hair off my damp face and kisses the crown of my head.
“Shh,” he whispers. “I’m right here.”
30
MILES
My heart breaks for Jenna, orphaned at thirty-five. She has no one left that she’s close enough with to guide her. An overwhelming desire to step up grips me. As I sit here, in her childhood room, holding her until her sobs become soft hiccups, my conscience screams at me.Tell her what you know!And yet, I don’t, because I don’t think Jenna can take anything else today. Every time I want to tell her, I am overcome by my own emotions about falling in love with her and knowing she’s choosing to leave. It freaks me out. I don’t want her to stay because she feels like she has to, and knowing her, if she learns of any connection to her dad, she will feel obligated to.
Once she’s calm, we leave Pete at the house and go for lunch, but Jenna is quiet, undoubtedly mulling over her options.
“What should I do?” she asks, pushing her empty plate away and not bothering to hide the melancholy in her voice.
I push my lips together and meet her eyes, willing myself to put my own selfishness aside. “I think…you should do whatever will be easiest for you,” I say as calmly as possible.
“Is that selling it as is, taking what I can get, and running?” Jenna frowns thoughtfully.
“Is that what you want to do?” I ask, my throat tightening. I fight the urge to reach for her hand. It’s like we have some unspoken agreement not to let our personal feelings for each other weigh in on this decision she has to make.
“I don’t want to run away. It’s just, I have never really thought about what I want. I haven’t had the chance the past few years, taking care of my mom,” Jenna admits quietly. “But I really don’t know what I want or where to go. I just feel like I need time to figure it out.” Her eyes glisten with fresh tears. I reach across the table, catching one on my index finger.
“I don’t want you to run either, Jenna,” I murmur. I swallow the urge to confess my suspicions about her father again. “Let’s keep this conversation about the house. No other influences, okay? Before you got this news today…what were you thinking about doing?”
Jenna chews on her lip. “I guess I was thinking, let Danny fix everything, DIY the rest of the cosmetic stuff, and then…” She pauses, studying my face.
I open my palm on the table for her to take. Her hand in mind feels warm and reassuring. “Go on,” I urge with a little squeeze of her hand.
Jenna inhales sharply. “I still want to fix it up. I don’t want to sell it to someone who is going to tear it down,” she says emphatically. Then, quieter, “But I was going to wait and see howweare before deciding to stay. And if I decide to stay, I have to think about my career. I can’t work for Joy forever, as fun as it is.” Her expression is so hopeful, I want to grab her face, kiss it all over, and beg her to stay. The fact that she is even considering it is a comfort to me and my vulnerable heart.
Relief floods my veins and something in my chest expands at her admission, as if I finally have reassurance that Jenna is in it with me. She wants to see where this goes too.Tell her.My brainwon’t shut off. “Okay. How about this? Let’s take both things…the house and us…day by day? Does that sound okay?”
Jenna nods. “I think so.” Then she gives me a wistful smile. “Thank you, Miles.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say, then flag the server for the check, once again swallowing my secret.
I’m notsurprised when my mother calls me shortly after I say goodbye to Jenna. She doesn’t usually call me during the workday, and that can only mean one thing—Nate opened his big mouth.
“Hey, Ma,” I say, tapping the touch screen on my car display.
