Page 17 of Love Takes A Tumble
"Avoiding me?" He kept his tone light, but the question hung between them.
Audrey's shoulders stiffened slightly. "I've been working."
"For days at a time? Even at meals, you've barely looked at me." He leaned against the doorframe, not entering her space but not backing away either. "After the bonfire, I thought... but then you just disappeared."
"I didn't disappear. I've been right here." She gestured to her room, to the laptop open on the desk, pages of notes scattered beside it.
"You know what I mean."
Her gaze dropped, confirmation enough. "I needed some space to think."
"And have you? Thought about it?"
"About what, exactly?" A defensive edge crept into her voice.
Harrison ran a hand through his hair, frustration building. "About us, Audrey. About whatever's happening between us."
"There is no 'us,' Harrison." The words came too quickly, too practiced, as if she'd been rehearsing them. "We met because I fell. You helped because that's what you do. It was a nice connection, but let's not make it more than it was."
The dismissal stung, but something in her expression kept him from simply accepting it. "Is that really what you think? That I only helped you because it's some kind of compulsion?"
"Isn't it?" She crossed her arms, a barrier between them. "You said yourself, it's hard to turn off thirty years of rescuing people."
"That's not fair, and you know it." He took a step closer, his voice lowering. "What happened on the beach that night wasn't about rescuing anyone. Neither was the lighthouse tour. Or have you convinced yourself that was all just research too?"
"Maybe it was," she countered, her chin lifting slightly. "Maybe you needed to feel useful again. To find someone who needed saving."
The accusation hit home with uncomfortable precision. Harrison felt heat rise in his chest. "And maybe you're so afraid of stepping into your new life that you'd rather sabotage anything good before it has a chance to become something you might lose."
The color drained from Audrey's face. For a moment, they stood in taut silence, the truth of his words hanging between them.
"That's not—" she began, then stopped, visibly regrouping. "You don't know me, Harrison. Not really. A few conversations,a boat ride, and suddenly you think you understand everything about me?"
"I understand enough." His voice softened despite his anger. "I understand that you've spent your whole life being what other people needed. That you're terrified of wanting something for yourself. That it's easier to hide behind your novel than to take a risk on something real."
"And what about you?" Her voice rose slightly, edges sharpening. "Running from place to place, never staying long enough to put down roots? At least I'm trying to build something, even if it's just on paper."
"I'm here, aren't I?" He gestured between them. "Standing in front of you, asking you to consider the possibility that maybe, we could be good for each other."
"And then what? You stay on Palmar Island forever, because we shared a few nice moments?" She shook her head. "That's not who you are, Harrison."
The truth of that statement took some of the fire out of him. "I don't have to go."
"But you will." Her voice had lost its edge, resignation replacing anger. "Sooner or later. And I..." She faltered, vulnerability briefly breaking through. "I can't be something else you leave behind."
Harrison felt the ground shifting beneath him, his certainty crumbling. He'd thought they were arguing about her fears, her retreat. But her words exposed his own pattern with uncomfortable clarity.
"So that's it?" he asked quietly. "We don't even try because it might not work out?"
"I think it's better this way." Audrey's voice was steady, but her fingers worried at the sleeve of her cardigan. "Cleaner."
"Safer, you mean." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his tone. “Better than risking getting hurt.”
"Please, just go." She took a step back, physically widening the space between them. "This isn't helping either of us."
Harrison stood for a long moment, searching her face for any sign that she didn't mean it, that this was just fear talking. But all he saw was resolve, the walls firmly back in place.
"Fine," he said finally. "I'll go. But for the record, Audrey? This isn't about me needing to rescue someone. This is about me finding the first person in years who made me want to stay. Who made me feel like maybe I was more than just what I did for a living." He took a step back. "I guess I was wrong."
