Page 66 of One Room Vacancy
I shake my head, though I’m not disagreeing—I’m just trying to keep from crying. Again.
“She’d want you to try,” Wes finishes gently. “And honestly? So do I.”
I press the heel of my palm to my eye and nod, once, sharply. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
“No,” I admit with a wobbly breath. “But I think I want to be.”
He gives a small smile. “Good enough for me.” Wes leans back again, quieter now. “You know you don’t have to figure it out alone, right? You could talk to Jamie.”
I blink. “Jamie?”
“Our advisor,” he says, like it’s obvious. “We’ve both had the same one since the trusts were set up. You don’t have to commit to anything. Just…see what your options are.”
I shift uncomfortably. “I don’t even know if the trust is meant for something like this.”
“It’s meant for your future,” he says, firm but not harsh. “And if this is what you want, really want, then that’s exactly what it’s for.”
I pick at a loose thread on the hem of my sweatshirt. “I always thought using it meant wasting it.”
“It put me through med school,” he reminds me. “Nearly debt-free. Do you know how rare that is?” He shakes his head a little. “Mom didn’t leave that money for us to hoard it out of fear. She left it so we could build something real with it.”
The words hit me somewhere deep. It’s something I didn’t even know I needed to hear.
“She believed in us, Sage. You don’t have to be her to prove you’re worthy of it.”
I nod, but it catches in my throat. “I don’t even remember her,” I admit, my voice coming out smaller than I mean for it to.“Not really. Just flashes, her perfume. The sound of her heels on the tile, the way she used to hum while she braided my hair.”
Wes’s expression softens, grief flickering behind his eyes in a way I don’t often see from him.
“I was so young,” I continue, voice wobbling. “And then she was just…gone. Everyone always talks about how smart she was. How successful, how fearless, but to me, she’s more of a myth than a person. I don’t remember what it felt like to be loved by her. Not really.”
Wes exhales slowly. “You were loved, Sage. I promise you that.”
I nod again, biting the inside of my cheek. “I just don’t want to screw this up and feel like I wasted what little I have left of her.”
“You wouldn’t be wasting it,” he says gently. “You’d be honoring it. You’d be doing what she always did—taking a risk, betting on yourself. You might not remember her clearly, but you’ve got more of her in you than you think.”
I blink hard, fighting the sting behind my eyes.
“Call Jamie,” he says again, voice softer now. “See what’s possible. You don’t have to decide anything today.”
I nod one last time, this time steady. “Okay. I will.”
Wes watches me for a second longer, then adds quietly, “And call Gabe.”
I look up at him, startled.
He shrugs, like it’s obvious. “You don’t have to fix everything today, but that doesn’t mean you should let it stay broken.”
My throat tightens again. “What if he doesn’t pick up?”
“Then try again tomorrow,” he says. “And the next day. Until he knows you mean it.”
I stare at him, unsure of what to say.
Wes rises from his chair with a soft groan and mutters, “Fine. If you won’t call him, I’ll call him myself. Be the overprotective big brother I probably should’ve been years ago.”
