Page 71 of We Can Forever

“Thank you for coming to check on me.” She wraps her arms around herself. “The best thing you can do, though, is give me space.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. “Space? Why?”

She licks her lips, avoiding my eyes. “I need time to think. What happened yesterday…it made me realize that maybe we’re going too fast. You know, jumping into a relationship before either one of us is ready.”

“I’m ready.” My chest swells, full of desire and frustration that need to be released. “Hannah, I want to be with you. Every day. Always. I know last night was scary. That was your first time seeing me on a call like that, and it makes sense that you were spooked. What we need right now, though, is more time together. To work through our feelings around last night and talk about next steps. Hannah, I…I want you to move in with us.”

Her gaze flicks to mine, and I see something bright there—excitement?—before the wall comes back up. “I need time to think, Michael. A…few days.”

It’s like I’ve swallowed a whole pile of rocks, and they line my stomach and throat. “Is this about your flare? Are you worried that I’ll trigger more of them?”

She sighs. “That’s not the issue. Of course I hate having flares, but they don’t shorten my life or anything. It’s about…” Her voice cracks. “Losing you. If you died in one of these fires, it would break my heart, and it— I can’t take any more heartbreak. I don’t think I can go through losing someone I love again.” She presses her sweater sleeve to her wet eyes. “So, I need some time to decide whether I can…cope with that risk.”

Her gaze holds mine for a moment before breaking away. I reach for her, but she steps back, and all the hope and excitement I built up for us crumbles to the ground. I’m a husk of the man I was driving over here, no more than one of the scarecrows set out for Halloween.

“Hannah,” I rasp, but what can I say to that? She has the right to make her own choices, just like everyone else. “Okay,” I finish, lamely, stupidly, disappointed in myself for not correcting this course we were on before it was too late.

“See you later,” she whispers.

She shuts the door, and I stand on her porch like the sorry son of a bitch I am. A reject. Someone who has tried his hardest but still isn’t good enough. I could put out every fire on the East Coast, dazzle and astonish Hannah in every way, give her anything and everything a man could ever provide a woman—a beautiful home, children, affection—but I can’t take away the uncertainty that comes with life.

And so I trudge back to my truck without a clue where to go from here.

Chapter Twenty-Six

HANNAH

“How many students are there again?” I ask, embarrassed to have forgotten.

But Maya isn’t fazed at all. “Fourteen.”

“Right.” I nod and finish arranging the chairs in her classroom. It’s the first crafting class at the elementary school since I turned Michael away from my door, and to say I’m nervous is an understatement.

Does Katie know about what happened between her dad and me? Even if he didn’t tell her anything, she’s such a perceptive kid that she probably knew something was off the moment he walked through the door. Plus, I’ve been over my flare for a few days, and I haven’t been around. That alone speaks volumes.

My stomach in knots, I pull out the kids’ projects, which Maya keeps in baskets on the shelves. Even though my energy is back, I feel worse than I have in years. All I can think about is Michael’s crushed face when I told him I needed space.

And right after he said he wanted to move in together, which is the real kicker.

I could have told him that I want the same thing, that waking up next to him every morning and driving Katie to school would be a dream come true. But that would be salt in both our wounds.

It was such a huge step for him to even mention moving in together, and I’m afraid that I ruined things between us by asking for space. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and been more optimistic.

But I know I couldn’t have done that. The fear wouldn’t dissipate; it would just be stuffed down to come up another day. I know my limits, and it’s only smart to question whether I can handle another serious relationship. Especially one with a person whose job carries so much risk.

And yet, I’m aching to talk to him. It feels like a chemical withdrawal, like one little text from him could bring me back from the edge.

The universe must hear my prayers, because my phone beeps. Desperate to see if it’s Michael, I claw at my jeans pocket.

It’s an email, though—which makes my heart sink. Except… Wait…

I click on the notification, my pulse picking up. Could this be…?

I quickly scan the email.

“What?” Maya asks.

“My grant application was accepted.” I look up from the screen. “I’m getting the funding for the store. I can hire another employee now.”

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