Page 90 of Always Meant for You
I’m tough. I’m resilient. I’ll start over.
I step inside my old room and head to the corkboard. I touch the corner of a photo of the Eiffel Tower.
I’ll get there.
I close my eyes. “Shower. Get dressed. Then figure out how to help this town.”
I glance toward Jamie’s door again. “I’ll do it for you, big brother.”
But deep down, something twists in my gut.
Is that the truth?
Or is it about the ten thousand dollars?
What have you sacrificed?
Cal’s words echo through my head.
I take off his T-shirt and set it on the bed.
I pull my robe from behind the door, put it on, and wrap it tight.
Fake it till you make it.
That’s been my motto. Pretend. Embellish. Enhance.
I ease across the hall, listening for the creak of a floorboard, but the house stays quiet. A small mercy I don’t take for granted.
In the bathroom, I close the door behind me and step up to the mirror.
What stares back isn’t someone who simply stretched the truth.
I didn’t only blur the lines or mislead with Bella Mae.
I lied.
Flat-out. On purpose.
I’m a fraud, and people are counting on me.
Cal is counting on me.
I talked the talk last night, sure. But walking the walk is something else entirely.
Pressure builds behind my ribs, stealing my breath. The uncertainty sharpens around the edges.
I know vintage French couture inside and out, and look what happened.
What do I know about organic farming?
Can I put this town on the digital map?
With my thoughts churning, I twist the knob, and the shower hisses to life. Steam climbs the glass, softening the edges of my reflection until I can’t see myself anymore.
I hold the M charm and breathe deep.
“Jamie,” I whisper. “I don’t know what you’re doing up there, but I need your help.”
