Page 104 of Body Shot

Her smile is soft. “I know you love your work and I know you want to accomplish big, important things. I admire that. You are going to make a difference in the world.”

“That’s what I want,” I choke out.

She nods. “But you deserve to be happy doing it. Sometimes I wonder if you don’t want to let yourself be happy. Or let yourself have fun. I wonder if you slow down, you’ll think about what you lost and . . . I don’t know if you’ve ever really dealt with the grief of losing your parents at such a young age.”

My heart clenches. My nose stings. “Of course I have.”

She regards me with a gentle expression. “I wonder if you slow down if you’d regret the things you’ve sacrificed, like a normal college experience, like parties and dates and boyfriends. And . . . maybe . . . love.”

Beck.

My throat tightens at the back and my eyes burn. Crap. I’m going to cry. I can’t cry in front of Aunt Gina. I can’t talk, so I say nothing and will the emotion to subside.

“It’s okay to cry,” she says, as if she knows my struggle. “It’s okay to care.”

My gaze goes blurry and my lips quiver. I’ve tried so hard not to care.

“I know we’ve been a burden on you, too,” Aunt Gina continues. “And we appreciate everything you’ve done, so much. But I’m getting better and . . . well, we want to talk to you about something.”

I nod mutely.

“Oh, hi, Hayden.” Uncle Colin strolls out onto the patio. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

I stand and move to hug my uncle. “I snuck in,” I manage to say.

He laughs and hugs me back.

“I hear you were doing laundry.”

“I was. I’m learning. It’s not that hard, actually.”

I smile and sit again.

“Would you girls like some iced tea?” Uncle Colin asks.

“Sure. Want me to get it?”

“No, no. You sit. I’ll get it. Then we can talk.”

Huh. What’s going on? I swipe at an escaped tear on my cheek.

“How is work going?” Aunt Gina asks, mercifully changing the subject.

I relate the news about losing out on the funding. Rubbing the back of my neck, which has developed rocklike knots, I finish, “So that’s why I had to end things with Beck.”

“What?” Uncle Colin returns with three glasses of tea. “End things with Beck? Why?”

Here we go again. “It was distracting me from work. So what did you want to talk about?”

Uncle Colin sits, too, and he and Aunt Gina exchange glances. “We’ve been talking a lot this week and we’ve decided we’re going to sell the house.”

My jaw falls. “What? Really?”

“Yes.”

“But your yard . . .”

“I know.” Uncle Colin rubs his forehead. “It pains me to have to leave it. But this week . . . well, after talking to your young man last week, I did some hard thinking.”

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