“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He takes my face in both hands. “What she said… I need you to hear me on this.”
I look at him.
“What you just watched wasn't real. It sure as hell wasn't concern for Jonah. It was a performance, start to finish, designed to get people talking about her. She’s a master manipulator. One of the best I’ve ever encountered, and trust me, in show business, I’ve met the cream of the crop.”
“For a performance, it was a convincing one.”
“No, it wasn’t. You're the furthest thing from what she described. Anyone who knows you sees that. And anyone who doesn't know you doesn't fucking matter.”
“I don’t care about that, Walker. She can imply I’m a slut and gold-digger and whatever else until the cows come home. I know it’s not the truth. But she’s right about one thing.”
His eyes search mine, truly at a loss. “What?”
“There is a child caught up in the middle of this. One who I’m going to hurt by leaving.”
The wave of guilt I feel then is almost crushing.
“Baby,” he breathes. He pulls me back against his chest, his arms coming all the way around me.
There’s a long silence where he seems to be gathering his thoughts.
And then he says, “Jonah is going to be okay. You know why?”
I shake my head.
“Because of everything you've given him this summer. That doesn't disappear when you get on a plane.” His chin presses to my hair. “He's a different kid than he was in June. More open. More confident. He reads now, Sadie. Actually reads, sits down and does it on his own because you made him believe he could.He knows he can put his mind to something and make it happen. You gave him that gift.”
I press my face into his chest and say nothing because if I say anything I'm going to cry and I fear I won’t be able to stop.
“He knows his mom left,” Walker continues, “and that hurt him and it still hurts him. But it also means he knows people can leave and life keeps going. He knows how to love someone who isn't there every day.” His hand stills on my back. “And he's gonna have you. Not in the house, not at breakfast every morning. But you're not disappearing. You're a phone call away. You're coming back for holidays if I have anything to say about it.” A pause. “Do I have anything to say about it?”
Blinking back the tears pressing hot behind my eyes, I smile. “Yeah,” I say into his chest. “You have something to say about it.”
“Good.” His arms tighten again. “Then Jonah gets to keep you. Different than this summer, but he keeps you. And Jonah knowing you, loving you, being loved by you… he’s lucky he got to have someone like you in his life.”
At his words, the joy and the guilt and the love flow through me, all mixed hopelessly together.
I admit, “I don't want him to blame himself for anything. The way kids do. The way I did, when my dad left.”
Walker's hand stills on my jaw.
“He won't,” he says. “Because tomorrow morning before you go, we're going to tell him together, that you love him and you're coming back.” His eyes hold mine. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
In the morning I start packing.
I get up carefully, so I don't wake Walker, and I go to myroom. My old room, the nanny's room, the room I haven't actually slept in for months. I pull my suitcase out from under the bed.
I'm folding a dress when my phone buzzes with a call.
Dr. Patricia Hale. Director of the Whitmore School. My new boss.
Heart pounding, I answer immediately.
“Sadie.” Warm and professional in equal measure. “I hope I'm not calling too early. I know the time difference between Montana and the East Coast.”
