Page 77 of Quietly Falling
“I do but I can’t.” His expression is apologetic.
“What about Mason?”
“She said she doesn’t remember a lot about the other kids in the house but she asked for me by name. It has to be me.” Shaking his head, he adds, “Wild to think after all these years we ended up in damn near the same place.”
The admission sets off a flutter in my stomach as I intertwine our fingers together. “Then I’m just a phone call away. You can do this. And I don’t know if this means anything but I’m so proud of you. Her wanting to talk toyouis a hell of a compliment. She trusts you. So yes, this is not what you wanted, but I believe in you and you’re going to find the good in this.”
“I’m… Thank you. And your words mean something—they mean everything to me.”
“It’s almost unbelievable. A couple of weeks ago we were practically strangers and now…” I brush the backs of my fingertips over his cheek. “I never want to go back to the way things were.”
Turning his head, he presses a kiss to my palm. “Me either.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“She lives two hours from here but I don’t anticipate it being quick. If she’s waited this long, she’ll have years of unloading to do.”
“And you’ll be all right?” I ask, moving my hand down to rest against his heart, trying desperately to relay how all-encompassing my question is.
“It’s gonna hurt—whatever she has to say—and it’ll take time for me to process it.”
“You don’t have to do that part alone.”
Please let me help.
“Just,” he sighs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine, “be patient.”
“I can do that.”
He chuckles. “You sure? I mean I know we’re past throwing pillows but...”
“I was makin’ a point; that’s different.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that.”
“I need you to do something else for me.”
“Name it.”
“Be here when I get back. I don’t want to come home to an empty house.”
Heart swelling in my chest, I cup his face in my hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be here. I promise.”
* * *
BODHI
My heart beatsa little faster thinking about the odds that two kids placed in foster care in New Hampshire would meet up at a coffee shop in Tennessee. It takes me every minute of the two-hour drive to calm my nerves, a torrent of emotions churning up the closer I get to the coffee shop where Lauren Mack and her husband agreed to meet me.
It’s a town I’ve never heard of and probably won’t ever visit again, but hopefully after today, I won’t need to.
Hopefully, this will be the end.
I’d slipped Audrey’s bracelet into my pocket before I left, needing her strength to help me through this. Because I wasn’t lying when I told Ella I thought I’d get a pass this time around —desperate for my biggest worry now to be wondering if I picked the right place to take her to dinner.
I hadn’t voiced that last part, the thought feeling childish.
