Page 156 of Chasing Infinity

Addison is silent, waiting for me to say everything coursing through my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I don’t want to keep playing this game. But it’s like I’m stuck playing the same level over and over, but I never win.”

“Noah—” she whispers finally, but I continue.

“I’m running out of lives, Parks. How much longer can I keep doing this? Expecting things to work out and then coming to the harsh conclusion that they can’t? I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Then end it,” she says so bluntly that I have to look up at her.

“What?”

“If you don’t want to keep playing his game, then end it.”

I make a face at her. “I don’t think it’s just that easy, Parks.”

“Why not?” She pushes. “If you know his game and what to expect, why couldn’t you just not participate.”

“Because he has a knack for ensuring that his messages get across. And I’m not willing to risk that.”

“It’s my decision, don’t you think?” I frown, but I don’t answer. She continues, “It should be. If I’m the one being threatened, I should be able to decide what to do about it. And I don’t want you to leave again.”

“I don’t want to leave either,” I tell her. “I’m not even sure if I could. It’s just irritating.”

“What is?” She asks.

I rub my hand over my face again. “I’ve done everything in my power to keep you safe, and even still, it’s not enough. Why am I never enough?”

“Noah—” her voice breaks off. Addison scoots closer to me, pressing the side of her body against mine. Her hand comes up to my chin, and she turns my head until I’m facing her. “You aremorethan enough.”

I pull my head away from her, close my eyes, and breathe deeply. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Another silence falls over us. I can hear her breathing next to me as if she’s taking in measured breaths, trying to come up with the correct thing to say. The clock on the wall in the kitchen ticks ominously in the silence.

“I’m afraid of being forgotten,” she eventually says softly. I turn my head to look at her, waiting for her to continue. She gives me a tight smile. “All I have left are the people here in this town. That’s partly why I put so much energy into my diner and relationships here. If that’s all I have left, I might as well make sure my legacy remains.”

“You think that’s all people will remember you for?” I ask her, unsure if I understand correctly. This woman sitting beside me is incredible in so many ways. I’m not sure how she could think that people wouldn’t remember her for all her other attributes. “Parks, you’re so much more than just that diner.”

Her eyes soften. “And you’re more than your career.”

I shake my head. “It’s not really the same. I’ve spent almost the last decade working toward this, only to fail and have it rubbed in my face.”

“So?” she shoots back. “Maybe you’re just meant to succeed differently.”

“Like what, Parks? I don’t have a secret weapon sitting in my back pocket. I don’t have anything.”

“Great things don’t just happen overnight, you know? Maybe this is just a necessary obstacle you must overcome so the real end point makes itself clear.”

I force a smile at her. “I appreciate your optimism.”

“Well, someone’s got to balance you out when you get all gloomy like this,” she says. There’s a teasing lilt to her voice, but underneath it, I note that she’s halfway serious.

I rub the heel of my hand against my eyebrow, trying to ease the headache that’s starting to bloom behind my eyes. The last few days have been a rollercoaster of emotions. It seems to have been one thing after another, and I haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and work through each of the blows before the next one comes.

The deep-seated feelings of failure and regret are still roiling in my stomach, but having Parks sitting next to me, attempting to shoulder some of the brunt, helps. I turn to her, giving her a grateful look. Her eyes scrutinize my face, and she runs her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes at the feeling of her fingernails against my scalp. Something is soothing about her motions, and I note my heart rate finally settling.

After a few quiet moments, Addison whispers. “I wish you would let me in. It kills me to see you broken like this.”

I slowly open my eyes and take her in. I’m struck with the realization of how lucky I am that she’s here with me. For so long, I wondered if I would ever get to have moments like this again with her. When I would lie down in my bed all alone at night, I’d dream up quiet instances like this one—the good, the bad, and all the in-between.

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