Page 147 of Built to Fall
“Have you thought about becoming a therapist?” I ask her, and she immediately shakes her head.
“Absolutely not. I love psychology, but could you imagine me trying to deal with emotionally distressed people who I’mnotfriendswith? I’d probably get sued.”
“You weren’t friends with me when you stormed in that stadium bathroom,” I point out.
“We had at least met before!” she argues. “And you were different because I went into that knowing you had a good heart, just by the way Grant acted toward you.”
“That’s sweet.” I can’t help but smile.
“Contrary to popular belief, it is a skill I am capable of.”
Her slightly self-deprecating nature reminds me a lot of Meredith in a way, and while I don’t quite know why either of them do it—or whether it’s intentional—it still makes my chest ache.
“So,” she continues with a raised, perfectly shaped brow, “does that mean you’re going to go to his apartment after this, or what?”
I make the decision faster than it takes for my brain to tell me not to. “Yes. It does.”
Savannah’s mouth opens wide, her hands coming to cover her mouth before she smiles excitedly at me. “I’m so happy for you!” She grabs my hand from across the table.
“Thank you for convincing me.”
“Twice,” she adds. “I’ve now convinced youtwice.”
“Okay, okay. So I lost a bit of courage, but this gave me all the confirmation I needed.”
I’ve been so wrapped up in Grant’s vendetta against commitment that I haven’t given myself a moment to think about whatIactually want.
Because at the end of the day, I know I trust Grant. He’s shown me that his intentions have been gentle and sincere. He’s proven that he’s a better man than Gage had ever been.
Whether he tells me that he doesn’t want anything more isn’t for me to worry about now.
Grant deserves a chance to figure out his fears, and I’m going to give that to him in the same way he gave me the opportunity to get over my sleeping apprehensions.
“Good. That’s what I was aiming to do. Especially after I grilled Grant and he saidnothingabout how he rocked your world.”
I shoot her a pointed stare, well aware that her mouth is a loaded cannon equivalent. “We’ll see what happens tonight.”
“I think you should go,” Savannah says, standing up, coffee in one hand while she slings her purse over her shoulder with the other. “You should gonow.”
The period of time when I became an overthinker was short-lived. It’s over now.
In fact, I don’t thinkat allabout her suggestion. I just do it.
We rush out of August and Ivy Cafe and toward my apartment building like our lives depend on it. And I know in my heart of hearts, it’s the right decision.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
GRANT
Iknew I fucked up the second Lina started crying in my arms last night.
None of this has been fair to her. Not me bringing her to my bed time and time again. Not me kissing her in Martha’s Vineyard and hooking up with her when we got home.
When she started crying, I knew this wasn’t what she really wanted. She was attempting to conform to me, and I can’t let her do that.
I’ve spent so long trying to build a version of my life that’s safe.
Not happy, not whole—just safe.
