“Oh, yeah, she’s kind of got loose lips…” I shrugged. “Told me how you two were working together for matchmaking but then she changed her mind when she saw how much I was…”
She stared wide-eyed at me before she pursed her lips, wavering on the edge of tears, and crumpled into herself. “Maybe you should stay,” she whispered. “You talked about it before and I freaked out because I didn’t know how to handle it while I was being stupid and keeping us a secret. But you and Cat and Daniela and everyone are all just sogoodand… I know this place is complicated, but I know you love it, too.”
“Alyssa—”
“I know I screwed everything up, but I just want things to be okay for you. For all of you.”
I swallowed hard. I’d known this whole time this would end, and that it would hurt, but… god, I thought I’d have more warning. I never even finished the right candle for her. Thought I had more time. Didn’t we all? “It’s not your fault, Alyssa,” I said, and she shook her head, pinching her eyes shut as the tears won.
“Please don’t say that,” she whispered. “I’m ready to accept I made a mistake. Or a lot of them. I can’t be… halfway between accepting it and not.”
“You shouldn’t have to go. You had a fight with Daniela, and she’s upset right now, but she’ll come around—”
“Jade, please—” She signed my name too, her voice breaking, but I couldn’t stop—found the words tumbling out of me against my better judgment.
“You could stay here if you need to—”
“And ruin your friendship with Daniela?”
“If being with you is able to ruin my friendship with her, then I don’t want a friendship with her.”
“Jesus, don’t say that,” she said. “You have a friendship that goes back so far and means so much. I don’t want anyone to throw anything away for me when I’ve already caused enough trouble.” She shook her head. “Even if Daniela came around, how’s it going to be with everyone else? With finding and keeping a job here? I didn’t realize people were holding grudges against me, and it’s like… why on earth wouldn’t they? I don’t know how to mind my own business.” She wiped her eyes, giving me the most heartbreakingly sad little smile. “But I’m really stupid and selfish, because I’m still glad I didn’t mind my own business when it came to you. You’re amazing… and I’ve loved getting to be with you. Thank you.”
“Alyssa—”
“Please just promise me you won’t keep diminishing yourself, okay?” She spoke through shaky breaths, wiping her eyes. “It would make me really happy to know I could at least… leave your life… better than I found it.”
I choked. Dammit, I was trying really fucking hard not to cry, but hearing Alyssa say something like that with tears on her cheeks was more than I could handle. I wiped my eyes, and when the tears were still there, I wiped them again more frustratedly this time. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I said. “You’re not going to end up going back to Sawyer, right?”
“Of course.” She hugged herself tightly. “It would be a disservice to everything everyone did for me if I just…”
“Even if going back to Sawyer were the only option that you thought wouldn’t inconvenience people?”
She wavered. “Of course,” she said again, but God knows nobody would believe it like that. I wanted to scream—hold her close and never let her leave this room if it was the only way to keep her safe.
“Alyssa—”
“I promise. Please don’t worry about me.”
What could I even say to make her listen? I felt like I was boiling over as I shifted over to sit on the couch with her, and I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her tightly into me. “Dammit, Alyssa,” I choked, my voice thick and broken on tears. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I know.”
“Doyou? Or do you think everyone’s trying to get rid of you?”
“I…” She buried her face against my shoulder, and I held her while her small frame shook with barely concealed tears against me. “I don’t want to leave either,” she said softly. I gripped her by the back of the head, holding her like I could keep her from drifting out of reach if I did.
“So help me god, if I end up getting a job in a place as boring and miserable as rural Indiana just to be close to you…”
She laughed thickly. “Don’t do that to yourself. You love… things. All kinds of things that aren’t cornfields.”
“We don’t know that. I might have a secret undiscovered love for cornfields.”
She laughed again, burying herself deeper into me. “Jesus, you cannot do that for me. But if you did…” She shook her head. “I can’t even say that. Don’t do that for me.”
And if I wanted to do it for myself? What then?
Wouldn’t even matter if I could say that. Not a thing in the world that would convince this woman. She’d always been so headstrong, so… determined to do what was right, no matter what. Or what she thought was right.
