Page 32 of Fern's Date with Destiny
When Rose dragged Chance toward the kitchen, Fern stepped in so close her shampoo, that faint honey-vanilla warmth that had haunted him clear across the Atlantic, hooked him in the nose and held him fast.
Fern grabbed his collar, not gently.“Upstairs.Now.”
He could’ve joked.Could’ve bolted.
He didn’t.
He let her steer him like a horse on a lead rope past the photo wall where little Fern grinned toothily at the camera, past the half-open doors full of family noise and safe chaos.
Up to her bedroom, tidy and bright and so very her.
When she shut the door behind them, the quiet hit him like a slap.
He braced his back against her dresser, every muscle tight.He’d faced charging cattle, ice storms, Chance’s right hook when he deserved it, but none of it terrified him half as much as Fern Fields glaring at him as if she might burn him alive if he disappointed her again.
Silence fell heavy enough to bend his knees.
“You don’t get to do this,” Fern said.Her voice wasn’t loud.Didn’t need to be.
He braced a hand on the dresser, the edge digging into his back.“Fern?—”
“Don’t.”She jabbed a finger into his chest.It landed right over his heart, and he swore the traitorous thing stumbled under her touch.“Youleft.You didn’t text.You didn’t call.You let me sit here in confusion, wondering what I did wrong.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Iam notyour sweetheart when you treat me like an inconvenience you can put away when you feel like it.”Her voice cracked.She sucked in a breath, steadying herself.“But that’s not what the real problem is.Yes, I want to be your sweetheart, but you’re first and foremost supposed to be myfriend.”
His chest tightened.Oh, for fuck’s sake.
He looked away at the posters above her desk.Dream Big.Yes You Can.She’d scribbled a crooked heart in the corner of one of them.
We Are The Ones Who Make Our Possibilities Into Realities.
“Cody.”
“You’re right.”The words came out astonishingly solid considering how hard he was shaking inside.Damn, he’d been so stupid.He lifted his gaze to hers.“You are my friend.Hell, you’re mybestfriend, and it was shitty of me to run away like that.”
“Really shitty,” she agreed.The heat pouring off her faded a little.
“I’m sorry.”He paused.Considered.“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I know I did.So, I’m sorry for that.For not just going back to what I know is true.”
“That I’m a great listener?”Fern suggested, the hint of pitchforks and torches completely gone from her tone.“Iama good listener, Cody.If you need to spill whatever’s got you tangled in knots, I’m here.”
“Yeah.”He forced the word through clenched teeth.“It’s…”
For the past four weeks, he’d longed to share his worries.Yet even in Ireland with his parents, who, he knew, loved him to the core, he’d been evasive.
Now, bolstered by Fern’s strength, the truth poured out of him.
“Something is physically wrong with me.I don’t know yet what it is, but just the thought of not being able to do everything I want scared the hell out of me.Could be nothing.Could be…” His throat locked up.“It’s stupid to drag you into that uncertainty.”
Her laugh came out half sob, half wicked cackle.She stepped so close the tips of her toes bumped his.“I’m already in it, you ass.Did you think you could run off across an ocean and I’d just— What?Forget you?Stop being your friend?”
“I thought…” He shook his head, jaw tight.His hand twitched where it gripped the dresser.“I thought if it’s bad you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”
“Stop.”She cupped his face with her good hand and her short arm, both pinning him to the spot as if she would hold him up with sheer willpower.“You don’t get to decide what I can handle.You don’t get to protect me by ghosting me.I wantyou.As a friend.Asmorethan a friend, but shove that first part into your brain hard.Friendsstick.Even if you’re scared.Especiallythen.”
He wanted to promise her something easy.It’ll be fine, I’m fine.But he couldn’t lie to her.Not anymore.
