Page 90 of Broken on the Mountain
Not once since I've been visiting have we ever ventured into talking abouttraffic.
I swallow hard and stab a strawberry. It bleeds juice across my plate, mixing with the syrup until everything looks like a crime scene.
Last night under the stars, I felt infinite. Safe in his arms.Homewith the words he muttered as we had sex beneath the stars.
This morning, I feel like I'm drowning.What's changed?!
"Next Friday," I start, and my voice cracks. "I was thinking maybe we could—"
"Piper." He sets his fork down with a clatter. "Can I ask you something?"
My heart stops. "Of course."
"Are you happy?"
My brow furrows. "What?"
"In Chicago. At your job. In your life." He's not looking at me now, he's just studying his coffee like it holds the answers he suddenly seeks. "Are you happy?"
No.The truth sits on my tongue, desperate to escape.I'm miserable. I hate the apartment I didn't choose, and my job, and my 'perfect' life that isn't mine at all. The only time I feel like I can breathe is here, with you, and I'm terrified that if I admit that out loud, it'll disappear.
"I—" I start, but Betty appears with a coffee refill.
"More cream, honey?"
"No, thank you." I wait until she leaves. "Chase, I—"
"Because you seem happy here." He's still not looking at me.God!What is with him this morning?! "You laugh more. You're... I don't know. Lighter."
"I am happy here," I whisper. "Chase, we've talked about this."
"Happy… but not enough to stay."
"It's not that simple—"
"It actually is."Nowhe looks at me, and the hurt in his eyes makes me want to crawl under the table. "Because the way I see it, you either want to be here, or you don't. You either choose this—" He gestures between us. "—or you choose Chicago."
I stare at him, my throat tight.
"That's not fair." My voice rises, and Etta and Mabel glance over from their corner table. "And you know it."
We sat in this exact spot weeks ago, drawing hearts on a napkin while Betty watched like she's seen this all before.Weekends Only. No Strings. No Feelings.
Chase had signed it with a flourish, adding little hearts like it was all a joke.
Thiswasn't part of the rules, and he knows it.
But then again, last night wasn't either. The fire, the stars, the sex.
None of that was casual. None of that was friends-with-benefits.
The whole arrangement has been a lie from the start. A safety net we pretended would catch us when the fall came. Except we've already fallen, and the net dissolved somewhere between the compass bookmark and one amazing night sleeping in the mountains.
"Chase, please. Don't do this. Not today." My voice comes out small, and I hate how desperate I sound. "Can we just... can we go back to how things were an hour ago? When we were laughing on the way down the mountain? What happened?"
"An hour ago, I was pretending this didn't matter. That you flying back to Chicago every Sunday didn't feel like watching you choose a life that doesn't include me."
"That's not—"
