Page 105 of Someone to Hold
Luke hugged Barkley the stuffed dog close to his chest. “She’s not the boss of us.” His tone was one-hundred-percent quiet defiance.
“Your Nana doesn’t want us to move to New Mexico to prove she’s the boss,” I assured them, although I’m not certain that’s true.
“We’re going to stay here, right?” I felt the weight of Laurel’sscrutiny as she asked the question, at once amazed and terrified at how insightful my daughter can be.
“Laurel and me can help with weddings and stuff,” Luke offered. “You don’t even need to pay us like that guy did.”
“Such a sweet offer,” I told my son, then tried to sell my kids on how moving to a brand-new city might be fun. Neither of them bought it, just like my friends aren’t now.
I’m sitting in Sloane’s office in the back of the bookstore while the kids are at the library for Taylor’s popular Saturday morning story hour. It’s been five days since my fight with Chase, and my heart hasn’t stopped aching for a moment.
The death of my dream is devastating, but I also can’t deny how much I miss him. How much I miss us.
Avah points her fork at me, then stabs at another bite of the cinnamon roll we’re sharing. “You can’t let this one thing change your course.”
“I’ve heard Albuquerque’s nice.” I smile over the rim of my vanilla latte, but who am I fooling?
“It’s not your home,” Sloane says, like she’s dropping a big fat mic on my head.
The ache inside me intensifies until it’s an excruciating pulse that feels like it could eat me alive. “That’s the thing,” I say quietly. “I don’t have a home.”
Linda texted this morning to let me know she’s selling the farm to Chase. She said we could take all the time we need to move out, but she also wants to pack everything up and leave as soon as the school year ends in a few short weeks. Mixed messages much?
“Molly, come on.” Avah looks at me like I’m missing something obvious. “You have to tell her you aren’t moving.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek as tears threaten to spill over. If I start crying now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. “Why would I stay?”
“Because Chase is willing to subdivide the land. Even with the cost of repairs to the greenhouse, you should be able toafford it given the success of the season so far.” Avah pitches her voice low in the quiet of Sloane’s office. “You know he’ll work with you on terms and a timeline.”
“Which puts me in the same spot as always—relying on somebody else to take care of me. How can I accept that when I’ve fallen in love with him?”
Oh, yeah. I finally admitted to my friends—and myself—that I’m completely, hopelessly, head-over-garden-clogs in love with Chase, making this situation ten times worse. Loving him means I want to stand on my own even more, not be someone he has to rescue.
“I’m no expert,” Sloane says slowly, twisting the thick silver cuff on her wrist, “but isn’t that the point of loving someone? You want to take care of them. Did you ever consider that Chase might have feelings for you? The kind he’s just as scared to say out loud?”
Avah points her fork in my direction. “Exactly. This could be his grand gesture.”
I breathe out a shaky laugh. “I highly doubt that. In my experience, needing someone to take care of you means being a burden. You can’t love someone who’s a burden. Not really.”
Love isn’t supposed to come with strings attached, but my heart always ends up a tangled mess.
My friends stare at me like they suddenly don’t know what to say. Because they understand where my hang-ups about being loved come from, and it’s not an easy fix.
“Then give up the farm but stay anyway,” Avah says, like it’s easy peasy.
I don’t see how that’s possible. Not only because it would break my heart not to be Molly the flower farmer. It would also break my heart to watch Chase go on with his life and not be a part of it.
“Can I be honest with you?” Avah asks as she slugs another gulp of coffee.
“Have youever not been?”
“You’re screwing this up, Mol. I’m not going to judge you for it, because I’ve screwed up plenty of things in my life, but I will say you’re going to regret it.”
“Think about the bucket list,” Sloane adds in a gentler tone.
“Iamthinking about the bucket list,” I insist. “The whole point of the challenge was to make my own way in the world. To take control of my life and my future. I can’t do that if he hands me my dream on a silver platter.”
“The horror.” Avah gives a mock shudder. “I hate it when a man checks all the boxes. He’s hot and kind and good with your kids…” She leans forward. “And even though you haven’t spilled the beans, which I find highly annoying, I know by your ridiculous smile every time you talk about him that he’s good in bed. Heaven forbid he cares about you so much he bends over backwards to make your dreams come true.”
