I shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, haven’t we all at some point? Losing Alice was really hard on him, and alcohol has always been his coping mechanism.” I shrug. “Doesn’t make it right, but with a little help, he’ll get back on track.”
I’m not sure I believe what I’m saying, but Wyatt is all I have left in the world, and I don’t know what I’d do without him. Plus, when I finished graphic design school, I thought I’d have a load of debt, but he paid off my tuition in full randomly, as a huge surprise. The worst part… my degree didn’t get me anything. I still went to work as a secretary, and I’m still trying to figure out how to make the whole graphic design career work in a small town. The point is, my brother had faith in me, and I owe him the same.
I lean against Holden’s chest, breathing in the scent of cedar and pine. “I’m sorry this whole thing happened the way it did. I… I’ll smooth things over with my brother.”
Holden nods slowly, his gaze fixated on something behind me. I turn to see what’s so exciting on the back wall that’s gotten his attention, but there’s nothing there.
“Umm… you alright?”
I chew the inside of my cheek as I stare up at him, a heavy weight now centered on my chest as I realize the fantasy world we’ve been living in is a lot further away than I thought. Heck, it might not be coming back.
For a second, I let my mind wander to the darkest corners.What if Holden and I don’t make it in the real world? What if we were only ever made for secret rendezvouses? What if this is the end?
I don’t want to be alone again. I’ve gotten used to the weight of his arms on my shoulders, the sound of his deep voice in my ear, the way he redirects my craziness when I start to think wild thoughts.
“This isn’t for you to worry about.” He leans in and kisses my forehead gently. “I’ll take care of it after work. Be good today.” We usually linger in a goodbye for at least thirty minutes. Today, he’s all business and out the door before I even come to terms with what’s happening.
Come to terms. I need tocome to termswith the fact that he’s leaving my space. It’s a thing. An every time we see each other thing. I pout about how much I’m going to miss him, and he kisses my face a thousand times, then tells me how special I am, how I can’t be replaced, and how he can’t wait to see me again. He squeezes my ass, kisses his favorite freckle on my shoulder, and finally we pretend we’re being torn apart by an invisible force that doesn’t understand our love.
It’s cute, and turns out, I require that performance or the crazy train starts to leave the station.Yes, I realize this makes me mentally unstable. We all are to some extent, right?
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly, attempting to gather my thoughts to a more reasonable place. I’m sure he’s rattled by everything that happened today. I’m sure he’s frustrated he got punched. I’m sure he’s irritated he didn’t punch back.
I plop back down in my office chair.
It’s fine. He’s not changing his mind. He wouldn’t.
Everything is totally fine.
I wheel up toward the computer screen, resisting the urge to type the entire situation into Google for advice. Truth be told, there’s too much nuance for Google. I’d have to ask one of those stranger help forums, and something tells me the nuance would be lost there too.
What I need is a distraction. Loud music. A swear word coloring book. A 3D puzzle of the Eiffel Tower. Pull apart string cheese with a juice box.
Okay, I’m not making sense.But seriously, why is the office so quiet today?
Well, I know why it’s so quiet. My office bestie is off on a cute little staycation with her hot new man, and the guys are putting the finishing touches on the brewery for the Wilder Brothers.
I guess I could go through the files and organize the supply lists for the next job like I’m supposed to, but none of that sounds as productive as calling Alice.
She picks up on the second ring, her voice high and happy, like she’s glad to hear from me. “Oh my Lord, if it isn’t little Maya Ann Davis. How are you, sweetie?” Alice was born and raised in Rugged Mountain, and she’s my age, but for some reason she’s adopted the accent of a sweet older woman from Mississippi. Last time we spoke, she was trying out a British florist whose business was going under. I enjoy this about her. Most people do. She’s fun, quirky, and, truth be told, way too good for my brother.
“Hey, Alice!” I smile as I tap my pen against the edge of the desk. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Same here, honey! It’s been forever! How ya keepin’ on?”
“Not bad.” I grin wide at how good her accent is getting. “Just… working today. Well, notreallyworking, but I’matwork.” I laugh. “You?”
“Also at work.” She laughs under her breath. “Also notactuallydoing work.”
“Well, see… we’ve both got life figured out then, don’t we? Working without working. I’m pretty sure that’s the dream. You still love the newspaper?”
There’s a half-second pause before she sighs dramatically, accent losing steam as she says, “You want the honest to God truth or the sugary, sweet tea version?”
Oh no. It’s never good when someone offers you two versions of a story. “The honest to God one. What’s wrong?”
“Welp.” A door closes in the background, and for a second I imagine what her office in San Francisco must look like. I’m picturing big windows, a fancy desk with one of those bookshelves behind it, and a big plush executive chair that air squeaks out of when you sit. “You gotta promise me you won’t say nothin’ to Holden. I don’t want him worryin’ about me. He’s got his own life to think about.”
Alice doesn’t know Holden and I are dating, but she knows we talk. That said, girl code supersedes all. It’s in the handbook.
