He blinks at me, once, twice, and then the words come rushing out. “My sisters hate me. They need me, and I’m here, and I’m failing them, just like my dad failed me. And I can’t…I can’t get a hold of him. And no one is answering their phone, and you…” His beautiful eyes swim with pain as he looks at me. “I called you because I-I…I needed you. And you weren’t there.” The words are jagged, broken fractures that let me peek into this man’s big heart.
I take his face in my hands. “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I’m here now. Your sisters love you, Garrett. I promise.” I push his hair off his forehead. “It must be hard when you’re so far apart. You’ll fix it.”
His eyes bore into mine. “What if it can’t be fixed?”
“Everything can be fixed.”
He hangs his head. “I’m not so sure about that.” His voice drops, so low I barely hear his next words. “Especially when you’re not on the same page.” He blows out a defeated breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Or even reading the same damn book.”
Why do I get the distinct feeling this is about more than his sisters?
Before I can ask, he shifts out of my grasp and steps out of the car. Without a word, he takes my hand, swallowing it in his big one as he pulls me from my seat and leads me to the elevator. Everything feels hazy and big, confusing and overwhelming. He’s too quiet, and I don’t know the right words to fill the space, to take away his pain and make everything better and safe.
But I’ll figure it out, and I’ll start by making him a big mug of hot chocolate, like he always does for me.
Except when I prop my door open with my hip and kick my shoes off, Garrett doesn’t follow. He stands in the hallway, hands tucked in his pockets, looking at the floor.
“I’m not going to come in, Jennie.”
“What? Why? I’ll make hot chocolate. We can order in. Or I can…I think I have the stuff to make spaghetti. I can make spaghetti for dinner. Just tell me what you want.” I hate everything about the desperation dripping from my tone, the way it tastes, the way it hurts, makes me feel weak, like I need him.
But I think I do, because I didn’t really find myself until I found him.
His eyes lift to mine, exhaustion stealing their sparkle. “I think…I think I want space.” The soft way he speaks the words, laced with guilt and regret, has my heart hammering against my chest, looking for a way out.
“Space?” My shoulders hunch as I curl into myself. “From me?”
“From this. It’s…I’m…” He rubs his neck, searching for his words. “I can’t think straight right now. I’m overwhelmed, I’m confused, and I’m tired. Fuck, I’m so fucking tired.”
“We can just relax.” I take his hand, tugging him forward. “We can curl up on the couch and—”
“Jennie, no.” Garrett shakes his hand free. His eyes are bloodshot, defeated, and mine begin to sting. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Things are…they’re different. I need some time to think, that’s all.”
A burning sensation crawls up my throat, one I can’t swallow down. “That’s what people always say when it’s easier than good-bye.”
The uncertain way he licks his lips contradicts his shaking head. “I’m not saying that word.”
“I don’t understand.” My chest rises sharply, eyes prickling. “You’re my best friend.”
His gaze holds mine, like he’s searching for any hint of duplicity. There is none. In a couple of short months, this man has become my best friend, my cheerleader, my rock. I don’t know how to handle losing him.
But I can see it, the anguish he wears, the heartache etched in his eyes, making it waver. Only I’m not sure why it’s there.
Until he swallows, thick and slow, and finally speaks his next words.
“It’s not enough for me anymore.”
I stagger backward as the words sink in.
Not enough? But…I’ve always been enough for him.
Tears well in my eyes, ready to spill. My fingers close around my tightening throat, trying to claw away the anxious thoughts, the fear that he’ll leave and take all of me with him even though I’ll be left standing right here, all alone, like I’ve been all my life.
I’ve shown him all of me, and he doesn’t want me.
Garrett’s hands close around my wrists, bringing me into his chest. He dips his face, his chest heaving in time with mine. “You are nothing short of perfect, Jennie.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be leaving.”
His lips part, eyes running over me, even as the elevator dings and springs open. Emily steps off, smiling brightly at us.
“Hey, lovebirds.”
Garrett’s mouth opens, but before he can say anything, his phone rings. He digs it out of his pocket, and his sister’s name, Alexa, shines on the screen. He curses under his breath, and when he looks back at me, his eyes swim with so much pain, confusion, heartache, I can’t separate it all. I don’t want to be the cause of any of it. I want to help him through this.
“Garrett, I—”
His phone rings again, and he swallows. “I have to go. I’m sorry, Jennie.”
I don’t want him to apologize. I want him to stay.
He hesitates before cupping my jaw, thumb sweeping over my lower lip. He brings his mouth to mine in a kiss that feels so much like good-bye, one I’m not ready for, one I don’t want.
His warm hands fall away, leaving me feeling cold and exposed, his stare flooded with regret as it touches my face, like he’s memorizing the way I look. Garrett brushes a fallen wave off my neck, kisses the tip of my nose, and with one last look, leaves me standing there as he brings his phone to his ear.
When the elevator door closes behind him, I meet Emily’s gaze.
“Hey,” she whispers. “You okay?”
My throat burns and I lick my lips, staring up at the ceiling.
And then it happens. My vision clouds. My nose tingles. No amount of blinking helps. My mouth opens to answer, chin trembling, but instead that first tear falls, followed by the second, and the third, all of them cascading down my cheeks, and Emily soars across the hallway.
She holds my quivering body tight to hers, and my words finally come, broken and shattered, just like me.
“You said he wanted me too.”
CHAPTER 32
SECOND CHANCES
GARRETT
I’ve spent twelve hours on an airplane today.
Twelve fucking hours, Denver to Vancouver, Vancouver to Halifax.
Nova Scotia isn’t at all where I expected to find myself this morning when I woke up, but here I am. It’s just after eleven p.m., my time, when I touchdown in Halifax, but here on the east coast, it’s three in the morning.
Three in the fucking morning, and instead of home, where it should be, I find my dad’s car exactly where I knew it would be: the only twenty-four-hour diner around. He’s the only customer here, aside from the same old man who’s been sitting at the counter every morning at the ass crack of dawn for the last twenty years.
“Alycia,” I greet the woman behind the counter, the one who smiles brightly when I walk in, despite the hint of remorse. She’s been working here since we were sixteen. I used to drop her off for her shift, then drive back an hour before it ended, sit at the counter and dip my free French fries in my free shake while I waited for my girlfriend to get off work so we could make out in the backseat of my car. “What are you doing still working here? You said you were going to quit.”
“Garrett.” She pushes through the swinging door and engulfs me in a hug, familiar and warm. “Just a couple extra shifts here and there. Kids are so damn expensive.” She pulls back, her eyes soft and kind like they always were. Once upon a time we said we were going to get married. But she wanted me to stay here, and I wanted to leave. Things weren’t meant to be, and that’s okay. “I tried calling you, but your number’s different now. I was going to stop by your place on the way home this morning, let your mom know he was here.”
“How long’s he been here?”
“Two hours, give or take. Figure he came by when the bar closed.” Her gaze lands on my dad, slumped over in a booth. “Hasn’t had a thing to eat or drink since he’s been here.”
“What about before?”
She shrugs. “Not sure. He doesn’t want to talk, so I’ve let him be.”
“Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”