“I don’t either, but I think you and me, us together, I think it could be special. There’s a chance for it to be as real and true and as beautiful as it felt, but if you can’t trust me, we’ll never get there. The only way I can think to do this is to show you I can stand on my own two feet. To be strong separately so we can be even stronger together.”
“I don’t want to take a break.” I cross my arms and shake my head, frustrated enough to repeat myself.
“Then tell me how to fix this!” Mina cries. “Because going a whole weekend without talking is a lot. Yes, I messed up, but if I can’t even have a conversation with you to apologize, what does that mean? I’ve been going crazy, beating myself up, wondering what you’re thinking, missing you like…like I don’t know how to breathe when you’re not around, but it’s just been silence on your end. How long am I supposed to be okay with that before you’re just as much the asshole as I am? What do you need, Nathan? Just tell me what you need!”
“If I knew what I needed I would have done it!” I bark, then consciously lower my voice. “I’m juggling a lot. Nick. You. Fallon fucking Mae in your bedroom.” I close my eyes against that particular image. “My family is furious with me. Angela won’t talk to me. Micah basically told me to fuck off. My parents are more disappointed than ever. The whole crew loves you as much as I do and then some stranger on the internet says it’s fake…” I close my eyes and grit my teeth and clench my fists because everything I feel for Mina is real. How dare Fallon Mae say otherwise? “Or it started out fake and then it wasn’t,” I say, opening my eyes with a sigh. “I don’t know, Mina. I just don’t know.”
Mina’s shoulders slump and she releases a long, slow breath. “Which is why I think it’s best if I remove myself from the equation for a bit. Just until we do know.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I’m sorry I’m human and imperfect and I don’t always know what to do or say.” I throw up my hands then let them drop to my lap. “A week ago, I was so happy…”
Mina stands, fighting tears. “I was too. And this isn’t goodbye forever. Just…for now. Until we know.”
Until we know.
Whatever the fuck that means.
Part of me dies at the thought of goodbye, but if this is what she thinks is best…
“A little distance might be a good thing.”
Mina nods. Frowns. Blows a short puff of breath past her lips. “Okay, then. I guess that’s it, then. Goodbye, Sweet Prince,” she whispers, one hand on the doorframe.
The nickname is a blast of regret, nostalgia, fondness, all tangled in an impenetrable knot in my stomach.
I sit back in my chair and scrub my hand over my mouth as she turns and walks away. “Goodbye, Mina,” I mumble, then slam my laptop shut with a growl.
FORTY-FOUR
Mina
I hold it together long enough to navigate the halls of the Reversal of Fortune Foundation, but as the front doors whoosh shut behind me, tears roll down my face. By the time I’m safely seated in my Honda, I’m hiccupping back sobs, my forehead leaning on the steering wheel as the Florida heat swelters out the open door. Walking out of Nathan’s office, unsure as to whether I’ll see him again, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
But it was the right choice.
If he can’t trust me, our relationship has no foundation and I’m not in the market for what Mom had with Dad. A lack of trust leads to bitterness, resentment, and decay.
I don’t want to live like that.
I’m worth the real deal and so is Nathan.
If I have to walk away now so we can be better later, so be it.
I slam my hand against the steering wheel and silently scream until white-hot rage gives way to icy sorrow. I breathe through it, giving myself space to feel whatever comes up. When the tears stop, I take a few deep breaths, then angle the rearview to wipe my red-rimmed eyes.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I say to the woman in the mirror. “You’re no stranger to hard work. You’ll keep the job at The Depot until Bancroft and Blake starts earning money. It’ll be tight and your days will be long, but you know how to do that. You’ve done it before. You’re strong. You’re capable. It’s just one foot in front of the other for a little longer.”
But what if Nathan never comes back? she asks, not at all concerned about money or long hours.
“You’ll pick yourself up and dust yourself off. You’re not really built for relationships anyway.”
The woman in the mirror doesn’t look convinced.
FORTY-FIVE
Nathan
When Dom sent me Fallon’s address, I didn’t think I’d do anything with it. I’m not the guy that shows up at a stranger’s house to…what? Tell her off? Make sure she knows how much I hate her? Who does that? I’m so not that guy, I can’t even come up with an action plan.
But the more I think about what Mina said, the more I want to believe she wasn’t conspiring with Fallon to bring me down. Sharing secrets with a woman who so clearly has it out for me was a bad call on Mina’s part, but it’s easy to give a friend more credit than they’re due. I did it with Blossom, then again with Dom. Mina could have fallen into the same trap, which means there’s a chance everything she did was totally innocent.
It’s that chance that has me standing on Fallon Mae’s front porch. The house is small, tucked into a quaint neighborhood with kids rolling down the sidewalks on bikes and neighbors strolling by, waving as they pass. Despite all that, Fallon’s home still manages to appear grandiose. Luxurious planters line the steps with tropical plants waving in the breeze. The landscaping is meticulous and expensive, every tree, bush, shrub, and flower trimmed into submission. It's bigger, bolder, brighter than every other house on the block, like it’s screaming for attention. It doesn’t help my opinion of the woman.
I knock.
Fallon answers.
We stare in mutual loathing, her brow slowly arching in disbelief, my jaw setting tighter and tighter.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, in a voice that would make polar bears shiver.
“I need to talk to you,” I reply, with enough heat to melt the ice caps.
“I’m not inviting you in.” Fallon steps outside and pulls the door closed to make her point, then glances over my shoulder. Her face transforms into the friendliest of smiles as she waves at a woman walking her dog, only for her features to harden again when she refocuses on me.
“I’m happy to have this conversation out here.” I retreat a few steps to lean against the porch rail and Fallon lifts her chin.
“Just so we’re clear, I have my phone and won’t hesitate to call for emergency services.” She waves the device in question. She doesn’t look at all concerned that I might have something nefarious in mind, but seems like she’s dying to make that call anyway.
