Page 21 of Versions Of Us

“Hey, come sit for a second.” I motion for her to follow me to the park bench up ahead. She follows my lead and collapses down next to me.

“I freaked you out, didn’t I.” It’s a statement not a question. “I didn’t mean anything by…”

“No.” I cut her off, combing a strand of hair behind her ear, my hand lingering on her cheek. “You didn’t.”

“Then, what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? You look so serious.” She pouts playfully as she says the word ‘serious’ which causes a smirk to break out across my face.

“There’s nothing wrong. In fact, everything is the opposite of wrong.”

She squints at me in confusion, so I continue.

“Steve and Maggie are travelling the country in a campervan. Steve wants me to manage the tavern.”

Kristen’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s amazing!”

She stands and then throws herself into my lap, straddling me, her hands firm on my chest.

“Yeah. I’m scared as hell. But it feels like everything is falling into place for us. I mean, you getting the position at the helpline is a huge step for your career and now I’ve been given this awesome opportunity.”

“Yeah. Look at us. Taking on the world and shit,” Kristen says with a grin. I look down at her hands, place my own over them and release a deep breath. She feels the air leave my lungs, senses my apprehension. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“You won’t,” she says as she traces my jawline with her fingertips. “This is a huge break for you. You’re gonna do great.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say.

Although I’m shit scared about running the tavern there’s something that terrifies me even more.

“What do you mean then?” Her eyes search mine for answers she won’t find.

“You.”

My heart hammers so hard in my chest there’s no way she can’t feel it underneath her palms.

“Stop worrying about me. I’m fine,” she says, looking down at her hands.

“I know you say that. But it killed me to see you upset tonight.”

We both know that I’m referring to the reason she had to escape the party earlier. She’s been haunted by her father’s abandonment ever since the day that low life scum walked out on her and her mother all those years ago. I want to be there for her in all the ways he hasn’t been. My biggest fear is that I’m not up to the task.

She sighs, leaning forward until her forehead rests on mine. “I’m okay, Alex.”

“Kristen,” I tuck my finger under her chin and tilt her head until her eyes meet mine. “Enough with the tough girl routine. It’s me.”

“I mean it. I’ve survived the last sixteen years without him in my life. I can survive another sixteen. It doesn’t bother me anymore.” The way she says this is almost convincing.

“Is that why you write to him?”

Defeat fills her expression. “Alex…” she begins.

“I wasn’t snooping,” I say defensively. “I saw an envelope peeking out from under a pile of study notes on your desk. I didn’t read it or anything. I wouldn’t do that.”

I don’t mention that I’ve also seen another stack of letters addressed to her father in the top drawer of her desk.

“I know you wouldn’t.” She brushes a strand of hair from my forehead.

“Are you going to send it?” I ask.

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