We head out to the truck.
“He’s really going to turn it down,” I say.
“Unless Rachel agrees to something else.” Cole starts the engine. “But right now? Yeah. He’s turning it down.”
“She’s going to hate that.”
“She already does.”
Chapter twenty-three
Chapter 23
Rachel
Imake it to my room before the tears start.
Face-down on my bed, pillow pressed over my face so that Tommy won’t hear me through the wall. Crying until my throat hurts and my chest aches and I can’t breathe properly.
Jake’s giving up Alaska because of me.
Six years of waiting for this opportunity. And he’s throwing it away because I keep being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I didn’t ask for this. Didn’t ask to be at three fires.
But here we are.
And my brother’s sacrificing his dream because I’m a walking disaster.
I cry until I’m empty. Until there’s nothing left except exhaustion and the dull ache of knowing I’ve ruined everything.
Eventually, I fall asleep fully clothed, face still wet, pillow soaked through.
When I wake up, it’s dark outside and my phone says it’s past midnight.
I should get up. Should change into actual pajamas. Should check on Tommy.
Instead, I roll over and stare at the ceiling, wondering how many more things I can destroy before there’s nothing left.
**
Morning light filters through my curtains, but I don’t want to face it.
I stayed in bed until I heard Jake leave for work. Heard Tommy get up and turn on cartoons downstairs. Listened to the house settle into its normal morning rhythm without me.
Only when I’m sure the coast is clear do I drag myself out of bed.
My face is puffy from crying. Eyes red. Hair a disaster. I look exactly like someone who spent half the night sobbing into her pillow.
Downstairs, Tommy’s eating cereal at the kitchen table.
“Morning, Mama.”
“Morning, baby.” My voice sounds rough. “You get yourself breakfast?”
“Uncle Jake made it before he left.”
Of course he did.
