Page 118 of Dear Mr. Brody

“I’d sacrifice more… for you.”

“I could look at other schools.”

“What if you can’t find another permanent position? You’ll resent me.”

“I won’t,” he said and reached out, grazing my wrist with his fingertips.

“You will. Take the job, Van.” My legs like lead, I struggled to do what I had to. I backed away from him and stepped off the porch. “We’ve only been together since September, what is a few months compared to a lifelong ambition? I’m not worth that.”

“That’s not—”

“This,” I interrupted and motioned between us, loading the lie to the tip of my tongue. “Is not worth all of that.”

“Parker…”

“You don’t want me to sacrifice two years, and I don’t want you to throw away an opportunity you might not get again. You know how I feel. You know what I want. When you figure out whatyouwant, let me know.”

I turned to leave, hoping like hell he’d stop me, like I had the night we first met. I wanted him to say, you’re right, I’ll take the job, I want this, I want you. But when I got to my car and looked back at the porch, he was gone.

Donovan

Three days.

Seventy-two hours.

Four-thousand-three-hundred-and-twenty minutes.

And I was miserable.

“Dad.” Anne stared at me from across the breakfast bar. “You’re sad.”

I shook my head trying to remember what I’d been doing. “I’m okay…” Anne’s math homework was spread out in front her, and I exhaled. “What problem were we working on?”

“You’re sad,” she said again, and this time I noticed the quiet strain in her voice. “Is it because you and Parker had a fight? Mom had a fight with Matt a few weeks ago and he bought her flowers. Maybe Parker likes flowers.”

I forced a tired smile. I hadn’t slept well since Saturday. I’d argued with myself so many times. Call him. Don’t call him. Text him. Give him space. I’ll talk to him in class.

He hadn’t shown up.

He wasn’t there.

Fuck, my chest hurt.

“I don’t think flowers are Park’s thing, little monster.”

“You could invite him over. Tell him you’re sorry for yelling.”

“Sometimes saying I’m sorry isn’t enough.”

“Why?”

“Anne… you shouldn’t be worrying about this. It’s adult stuff, okay?”

Her brows knitted together as she set her pencil down harder than I thought was necessary. “I’m worried. You were happy and now you’re sad. And I really like Parker.” Her voice cracked and my eyes started to burn. “Is this like what happened with Mom? Did you guys break up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you fix it?”

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