Page 21 of Falling Into Forever
When she finally looks at me, she’s wearing a mask I hate. That’s not my girl. All-consuming regret gnaws at my chest. Now, knowing her side of the story, I’m even angrier that I didn’t fight harder for us. But there’s still something inside this woman that my heart recognizes. It’s there in every scowl, every touch, every word.
If there’s a way back to us, I will find it.
“I know the interview was a shit show,” she says, staring down at her clenched fist. “I’m an easy target because I speak without thinking. I’m not a bitch, but people accuse me of it based on my reactions. Honestly, I’m still trying to survive in a world where I don’t fit. And I’m tired, Dante. So very tired.”
My stomach hollows painfully with her words. But I don’t move. I barely breathe. And when she lifts her haunted gaze to mine, it’s all I can do not to gasp for air. I’m choking on the pain she wears like a duty, and my eyes burn as I watch her.
How can she possibly still feel like a voyeur in her own life?
“I’m trying to write something,” she says, dropping her gaze to her toes that wiggle against the wood planks of the dock. “I need to write anything at this point to give to Kate before she starts selling my teeth to make ends meet, and my mind is blank. I don’t think I have any stories left to tell. So, excuse me if having you back in my life sends me into a further tailspin. I’m not the same girl you knew back then, and I promise you, it’s best if I remain a memory.”
She turns away from me, and my fear burns in my lungs. She’s too close to the water.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispers. “I don’t have time to play games. Stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine. When this is over, I promise you won’t hear a word from me again. And…”
She slides into the small Adirondack chair sitting at the end of the dock and opens her laptop. “Thank you for saving me,” she says over her shoulder without making eye contact. Her voice cracks. It seeps into my chest and squeezes my heart with each passing syllable. “I don’t know why you came running when Kate called, but I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you can get out of here as soon as possible. Sometimes the past needs to stay in the past.”
“He came because he didn’t have a choice,” Kate drawls as she sashays down the dock. “He needs you as much as you need him.”
“Kate,” I say in warning. It’s not her place to tell my story. “And, Saylor, so you’re aware, I’m not searching for a quick getaway. Not this time.”
Kate taps her chin, but Saylor stares straight ahead, even when Kate speaks. “Fine. We’ll meet tomorrow over Zoom. I’m heading back to the city, but Sassy?”
Saylor’s head falls back against the weathered wooden chair. “Yes, master?”
I suppress a chuckle because neither woman would appreciate it, but my heart warms knowing she hasn’t lost all the spark that made her someone I desperately wanted to love, even as a teenager.
“Congratulations,” Kate says, patting my shoulder. “You make a very handsome couple.”
I frown, and Saylor mutters. Even her grumbled words wrap around my heart and ease the uncomfortable agitation taking over my mind.
“Figure it out. Have fun, kids. Dante, a word?” Kate says while walking away.
“Kate! There’s no way people will buy that he’s—he’s with me.” Saylor’s hand gestures wildly in the air. I’m curious if it’s because of me, but her words are my first priority.
Kate turns back with a grin I don’t like. “I’m sure you two will figure it out.”
Grinding my teeth, I hold up a finger to tell Kate I’ll be there in a minute, then wait until she reaches the end of the dock and is out of earshot. When I’m sure we have a moment of privacy, I slide into the chair next to my childhood best friend, my only love, the missing piece of me. My stomach leaps into my chest because I was not expecting it to be such a long drop down. Why the hell are her chairs child-sized?
“I always did like your sassy mouth, Saylor, but having me as a boyfriend won’t be all that bad. I was pretty good at it once upon a time.”
She’s so little, but her presence at my side is enough to calm a giant. The fear she thinks she’s hiding shows in the wild way her gaze jumps from one object to another. And sadness washes over me because her words and actions make it obvious that she’s still trying to fight whatever demons hold her mind hostage.
I stare out over the water rippling with the breeze and take comfort in her arm pressed against mine. Maybe kid-sized chairs aren’t so bad after all. “Why did you say that?”
She turns to her computer with a shrug that warms my entire arm. Where’s the spitfire who was ready to torch me not two minutes ago?
“Why, Saylor? Why can you tell me to piss off and put yourself down in the same breath?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbles.
But it does.
I turn my full attention to her now. The sun is going down on the other side of the lake, and it casts her face in an orange glow that softens her and somehow shows her strength. She’s grown into a goddess, and it hits me with a violent force how much I’ve missed her.
“Why?” I demand. When she doesn’t answer, I lean over so my face is mere inches from hers. “Why, Sayl?”
She flops back in her chair to give herself some space. “I don’t know, Dante.” She hisses, but I love my name on her lips. I always have. “Maybe because I’ve seen you with your gaggle of girls.”
