Page 94 of The Weight Of Falling
“I think so too,” Dad says with satisfaction.
Mom puts the plates on the counter. “Let’s eat before you start reinforcing the roof.”
We eat around my small table. Watching Joel with my family unfurls something warm in my chest. He listens attentively to both of them, fielding my father’s questions with patience and dry humor. He passes the bread to my mom before taking any for himself and tops up water glasses without being asked.
My parents are easy company, and I’m grateful they keep the conversation centered around work, the neighborhood, and their travels. Laughter floats around the table and the time passes quickly.
After they leave, I close the front door and lean against it with a sigh.
Joel stands there, facing me, and we just stare at each other.
“Thank you,” I say softly, meaning the new locks, but also his kindness to my parents, for making space for them in his life, even briefly.
“They really love you,” he says.
For some reason, his words make my eyes sting. “They do.”
In this moment, I have to do the unthinkable and put myself out there. Let my heart act before my head can argue. Maybe it will change everything for the better. Maybe it will make it worse. But I know I have to try.
“Joel, I’m really falling for you,” I confess, my heart hammering.
“Kenzie, don’t.”
“Don’t want?” I press. “Tell you how I really feel? It’s too late.”
“What do you want from me?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper.
“I want to be the one person you don’t hide the truth from.”
He stiffens, and those dark brows pull together. “You’re asking too much.”
“I don’t think I am.”
His hands tremble slightly at his sides. “You don’t want the truth.”
“I wouldn’t have asked for it if I didn’t want it.”
“Even if it’s ugly and horrible.”
“Even then.”
His lips twist. “You have no idea what you’re asking,” he says harshly. “You’re ignorant and naive. What are you imagining? A stable future with children and Little League games. You can’t have that with me.”
“I know what you’re doing,” I say softly. “You think if you’re distant and rude enough to me, I’ll give up and stay away from you.” I shake my head. “You don’t know me very well. I don’t give up on people easily. Especially those who mean a lot to me.”
He groans, dropping the facade and looking tormented instead. “Kenzie, don’t do this to me. There’s so much about me that I’m afraid for you to know. You need to stay away.”
“I think that’s the last thing either you or I need.”
“There are a hundred reasons to walk away from you,” he whispers, “but every time I’m in the same room with you, every time you look at me with those blue eyes I can drown in, I forget every single one of them.”
His words make my heart soar. But the lost look on his face makes it ache in equal measure.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I step forward and wrap my arms around him, holding on tight.
His body goes taut beneath my touch, as though he doesn’t know what to do with my affection. For the briefest moment, I think he might push me away.
And then, slowly, something shifts. His big, strong arms come around me, and he pulls me in. And it’s something in the way he exhales, in the way his body relaxes, that tells me just how badly he needs to be held, as though no one’s done it in a very, very long time.
