Page 203 of Things We Hide from the Light
“This sounds serious.”
“It could be. But I don’t know if I can do serious. What if he gets to know all of me and then he decides I’m too much or not enough? What if I don’t trust him enough and he gets tired of that? What would I do for a living if I quit my job and moved here for him? He doesn’t have nearly enough closet space.”
“Take the risk.”
“What?” I blinked, certain I’d misheard my mother.
“Lina, the only way you’re going to know if he’s the one is if you treat him like he’s the one. He can either earn the title or lose it. That’s up to him, but you’re the one who has to give him the chance to earnyou.”
“I’m confused. You’ve always seemed so…risk averse.”
“Honey, I was a hot mess for years over what happened to you.”
“Uh, no shit, Mom.”
“I blamed myself. I blamed your father. The pediatrician. Soccer. The stress of high school. So I dedicated myself to trying to protect you from everything. And I think putting you in that bubble did worse long-term damage than your heart condition.”
“You didn’t damage me.” I hadn’t grown up a risk-averse little chicken. My job involved actual danger.
“You’ve viewed every relationship since as a potential prison.”
Okay, that rang a little true.
“If you really like this guy, then you need to give him a real chance. And if that means moving to Knockemunder—”
“Knockemout,” I corrected.
“What’s going on? Are we pausing this game or what?” My dad bellowed in the background.
“Lina has a boyfriend, Hector.”
“Oh great. Let’s tell everyone,” I said dryly.
My father squished into the frame. “Hi, kiddo. What’s this about a boyfriend?”
“Hey, Dad,” I said lamely.
“Where are you? That’s not your kitchen,” Dad said, leaning in to look at the screen, essentially blocking everyone else from the camera.
“Oh, I’m…uh…”
I heard the key in the lock.
“You know what, I should go,” I said quickly.
But it was too late. The front door swung open behind me and Nash, looking all kinds of fine in his uniform, and Piper in a new orange sweater walked in.
I spun around to look at him.
“Hey, Angel,” he said warmly. “Holy shit. Did you cook?”
“Uh.” I spun back around and stared at the two slack-jawed adults on my screen. “Oh boy.”
“I think that went well,”Nash said through a mouthful of turkey club.
I put my head down on the counter and groaned. “Did you have to be so charming?”
“Angel, it’s in my DNA. It’s like asking Oprah to stop loving books.”
