Page 107 of A False Start
Sitting here, holding this note from one of the most profoundly thoughtful men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, I feel distinctlynotsmart. Smart girls wouldn’t leave someone like this behind.
What if I made the wrong choice?The question has crossed my mind more than once.
I tuck the envelope into my purse beneath the desk, and then I lock myself in the bathroom and let myself shed tears for one minute. I actually set a timer. And then I take a deep, deep breath and walk back out to the front desk and prepare myself to save some lives.
Because I am smart. Smart enough to know I’m here to work hard and prove to myself that I can do this life on my own if I need to. That I don’t toss away every hope and dream for a man. I’ll always wonder if I’m capable of it if I don’t do this. He knows it, and I know it, too.
Still, with every note he sends, I fall more deeply in love with him. The distance. The space. The unwavering understanding. It just makes me love him harder.
I miss him.
* * *
It’s spring break,and a good chunk of my classmates are heading south for a vacation. But partying at a resort isn’t my scene. One of the things I’ve learned living away is that certain settings work for me and my past trauma, while others do not. Big loud parties with heavy drinking will never be my happy place. People inevitably try to push alcohol on me and having to turn them down over and over inevitably gets awkward.
And annoying.
Every party I’ve been to in the past few months has just proved that there is a limit to what I have in common with people my age. It’s why I’ve joined a study group of “mature students.” Or that’s the running joke.
Marni is a mom of three who has stayed home for the past several years. Jin is already a medical doctor but has found his bedside manner may be more well-suited to animals. His intensely literal persona cracks me up. And Erin has been a vet tech for over a decade. She’s spent years thinking she’d like to be the doctor in the room but was constantly told by her shitty husband she couldn’t. That it was too expensive. That she was too old.
She ditched him and went back to school. I admire her fiercely. Needless to say, all the people who have become my real friends at school went back to their families for spring break. So here I am, doing the same. Hefting a suitcase out of my car and dragging it up the front steps of my brother’s house at Cascade Acres.
Stefan throws the front door open and rushes out to take my bag. Ever the gentleman. “Little sister.” He slings an arm over my shoulder. “Nice to have you home.”
Home.I love this place. But it doesn’t feel like home. A cozy little house in the mountains, overlooking a rocky cliff and surrounded by wildflowers is what my mind conjures up when I hear the word. But the only reason that place feels like home is because of the man who lives there.
The one who lives rent-free in my head and heart. The one who makes me smile and cry all at once. Anywhere with him would feel like home.
“Nice to be here.” I drop my head on his shoulder and smile. “I’ve missed you, Stef.”
“Ah, you’re just saying that. We both know I annoy you a little bit. It’s almost like you’ve been avoiding me these days.”
Not you, your best friend.
I chuckle. “A little bit. It’s part of your charm.”
He gives me a gentle shove just before we hit the stairs. “You love me.”
“You know it,” I reply, meaning it.
When we get to the top of the stairs, just in front of my bedroom, he stops behind me and I turn to face him, wondering why he isn’t keeping up.
“I love you, too. You know that?” He swallows, looking a little nervous.
“I know.” I smile and nod, eyes searching his face for some clue where this sudden seriousness is coming from.
“I feel like I owe you an apology. I feel like I overstepped.” My heart thuds heavily against my ribs, and the color drains from my face. “I feel like I forced you and Griffin apart without really understanding.”
My mouth is dry as I suck in a deep breath. “Understand what?”
He nods his head toward my bedroom, his expression almost stricken. “You’ve got mail.”
I turn, peering into the room. The bed is made perfectly. And on one pillow lays a pale pink envelope.
One hand falls across my chest, and when I look back at my brother, he winks before heading back down the stairs.
Suitcase forgotten in the hallway, I walk into the room and sit gingerly on the edge of the bed before picking up the envelope.
