Page 55 of Secondhand Secrets

“I always thought things were better for you there.” Her husky whisper had him meeting her gaze, although the softened sympathy in her eyes made him regret sharing so much. “There were stories about your dad’s career taking a sharp upward turn after leaving our dinky nearest hospital. How he’d bought a huge house in a well-to-do area. That he’d finally met his potential. I’m sorry, Chip, I always just believed the rosier version I’d heard.”

“Well, that version isn’t all wrong.” He leaned a hip to the table and stood before her, his fingers hooked around the robust handle of his coffee cup. “I eventually made new friends and did well in school, but that home in Boston was never my home. Dad was too busy social climbing and working. Even when he was around, I got the distinct impression he only cared about my presence so long as I had some story of success to share.”

“I mean, look at you.” She gestured up and down his body, although the gesture seemed to incorporate more than just a reference to his physical appearance. “It’s not like you fall short.”

“For a man hellbent on sticking his fathering skills to Mom, I did. Dad wanted to raise his ideal version of a man, someone who could do and be it all, an intellectual athlete. Someone less inquisitive, more enterprising. Someone engaging, but aloof. You know, someone like him.”

She gave a scoffing sort of laugh over the rim of her cup. “He doesn’t ask for much, does he?”

Chip laughed at her soothing sarcasm. “Right? Most people think ‘heart surgeon’ and assume he’s a saint by default, but even brainy people in care industries can be wannabe corporate highflyers. Heck, he had me enrolled in baseball classes and private golf tutoring within weeks of landing in Boston. You know, all the things that were meant to help my future impression on the world at large.”

She reached out and clasped the hand he pressed to the table close to her, her uncharacteristic silence seeming to make space for him to process his thoughts.

Ally saw him in ways that his own father never could. She accepted and comforted, two qualities missing most around him in all his years away from Harlow, his more selfish side wishing to hold on to her for that reason alone. To have her help him in ways no career or overbearing father could. Even though he had many other reasons to persuade her to come away with him.

“I never quite fit in his world.”

And Ally will fit in even less. She’ll have to run Dad’s gauntlet, all while I pray she likes Boston enough to want to give up Harlow.

What was I thinking, asking her to come?

“I just wanted to stay home and learn everything I could about the topics that interested me.” He lowered his cup to the table and then pressed his palm to the softness of her cheek. “Which is why your crush on Dean kind of threw me. He has the same tough air my dad always wanted for me. That, and you only ever seemed to like athletes and outdoorsy guys.”

She gave a small chuckle, her eyes glinting their brilliant blue. “I can see how you’ve kind of developed a sore spot.”

He laughed. “Well, thanks.”

“But it’s safe to say you don’t need to worry about any jocks, rugged men, or social climbers.” She started off with another wide smile that slowly softened into something else entirely, her voice turning husky in the end. “I like you a lot more than I’ve ever liked any of them.”

For a long while, he grappled for something to say, ultimately settling on turning her earlier question back to her. “What was Harlow like after I left?”

She gave a small scoff and ticked one corner of her lip upward. “Nowhere near as fun, that’s for sure. You and I were always together, and even when I did find a new rhythm without you, I envied you.”

His brow squished together, and a strain gripped his chest. What did Ally Egan have to be envious of?

“Time and time again, I watched our peers pack up and move. As much as I wanted to do the same, I forfeited any idea that I could do the same. Harlow was just too safe, and my dreams of being an artist, way too risky. ” She gave a tight shrug, the hard bob of her throat denoting anything but ease. “I get that your home life was a mess and mine wasn’t. So, I’m sure it sounds like I’m complaining about nothing, that things were just so comfortable and stable. But most days, it feels like I’m still waiting for my life to start.”

He took his hand back and toyed with the white laminate on the table’s edge for a while. Contemplating her concerns. Weighing up the contrast with his own life.

“First of all”—he set his focus back to her wide and expectant stare—“if it means something to you, then you’re not complaining about nothing. Also, Ally, you have done things. You completed an art course. You have a job at Oak Tree, your potential deal with the Argyles, and a full life here in Harlow. All of those things bring value into the world. Even without all that, you still have decades ahead to start anything you want.”

“Except for being an Olympic level gymnast.” She pointed a finger at him and smiled, her expression seeming to say, I got you on that one.

He laughed and gave her a jovial shake of his head. “Yeah, you’ve probably already aged out of that.”

The serious edge returned to her face, and she puffed out a heavy sigh. “I haven’t travelled, Chip. I haven’t taken any real risks. I used to dream of living in a different city, maybe many different cities. I’ve never felt smart or ready enough to try my hand at something big, and even if I did, Mom and Dad have given Laila and me their entire world. So, there’s this background pressure of feeling that, if I did leave, I better do something amazing, otherwise, any empty-handed return home would be soul crushing and pointless for everyone involved.”

“You mean, kinda like when I left Harlow? Or even what I’m trying to achieve with Stonewall?” He paused and clenched his jaw for a beat, his next words something he’d only now come to admit. “Like everyone is looking at you with a sense that whatever risk you took better have been worth it?’

Her gaze held on him a while, her downturned mouth sending forth sympathy. “Exactly like that. And the time you lose playing those chances, you never get back. I don’t know where to start. I don’t even know if I should.”

Those same thoughts had plagued him about her, the rising risk coupled with the fear that he’d be taking her away. But she deserved more credit than he’d given her thus far. She deserved to see what the world had to offer. To make the choice of where her life would go.

“Let me help you.” Once again, his words surprised him, but if he’d learned anything from this woman, it was that sometimes impulsive moves turned out for the best.

“How are you gonna do that?” She raised a brow and held a mischievous grin.

“I’ll make you a promise. If you ever do get around to busting out of Harlow, no matter what happens between us—if you’re ever lost, scared, or confused—this experienced city slicker will always be just a phone call away.” He pulled her hand from around her coffee cup and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm.

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