“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he says. “If it wasn’t the call, what is it?”
“Nothing, really.”
“North.”
With a groan, I shuffle down into the cushions a bit, taking him with me. He slings an arm around my waist, and I don’t have to look down to know his eyes are mostly shut. I’m not sure I want to answer him, but if I feel safe with anyone, it’s with Easton.
He knows all my secrets, and the weight of my life has started to feel a little too heavy for me lately. Maybe sharing the burden will help.
“I’m just starting to wonder if this is really what I want,” I finally say.
He shifts, and I look down just as he looks up. I can almost see my reflection in his eyes. “What do you mean, this?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know. I used to feel like I could do this. Now, being here feels like I’m suffocating.”
“Like,herehere? Like in town, or?—”
“I mean, I don’t really know if this is the life I want. Becoming a firefighter was an easy decision when I was helping my mom get back on her feet. It was quick program and goodmoney right away. It felt like sacrificing my career as a chef was worth something. Now, my mom’s got her apartment. Starr and Westin are probably going to get the hell out of town the moment they graduate. Meadow is going to do who the fuck knows what, but she’s got a job and helps out at home. I feel like…”
He stays silent, but I can tell he wants to finish my sentence for me, so I nudge him just a bit because I’m not sure I want to say the words myself. He takes a breath, then offers, “They don’t need you?”
I shrug, but the truth is, it’s exactly that. “If they don’t need me, maybe I don’t need to do all of this anymore. But I also wonder if I’m too fucking old to start over.”
“Babe, you’re not even thirty yet. There are people who become doctors in their fifties. If you want to start over now, you know you can.”
He says that, but I don’t think he realizes what it takes. I couldn’t just pick up where I left off. I’d have to start at the bottom all over again, and I wouldn’t be able to afford my mortgage and take care of my mom’s bills that she can’t cover on a line cook salary.
If I’d been able to stay in the field and do what I wanted, things might be different. I might have my own kitchen now. Hell, my own restaurant. But I don’t, and that dream seems like it’s turned into pure fantasy. It’s not something I can chase anymore.
I might not be thirty yet, but I don’t have the same luxury other people do who want to start something new at my age. That takes money I don’t have, and time I can’t afford to give up, and a support system that doesn’t exist for me.
I don’t have a partner I can rely on, and I’d rather die than ask Easton to pony up any dough to keep me afloat while I trysomething that statistically won’t leave me better off than I’m doing now.
At least here, I have job security and benefits. I have a 401(k), for fuck’s sake. It’s ridiculous that I’d consider letting all of that go just because it’s not my passion.
“I think what I really need is to accept that not everyone gets to follow their dreams. I can learn to be content with this life. I don’t care that I’m alone”—a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that—“or that I’ll probably spend all of my life as a bachelor. I think I just needed to vent that out loud.”
He sighs quietly. “You know, I keep having a conversation just like this with my brother. Leo thinks that everyone gets one shot at building the life you want. If you lose it, that’s it. You get to just exist until it’s over, and he’s ready to accept that he’s going to spend the rest of his life by himself.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say without really thinking. “He’s not even thirty yet!”
Easton laughs. “I know, but I can’t talk to him about it. He and Liam were on the fucking rocks when the accident happened. They went on that trip as a way to try and fix a failing marriage. And now he won’t admit that things were bad. I walked into his house one night, and he was fucking wasted and crying and saying he thinks the universe punished him for not loving Liam enough.”
I stiffen. I’ve known Easton for a long while now, and by proxy, I’ve known Leo. He doesn’t talk to me, of course. I always seem to fuck up the moment whenever we’re around each other, but Easton has vented more than once about his brother and his former brother-in-law.
He’s never told me this though.
“I tried to remind him that Liam wasn’t a saint in their marriage, and he got angry and threw a punch at me.”
“Jesus.” It’s hard to imagine Leo ever throwing a punch.
Easton closes his eyes. “I think he was angrier at himself right then. When I talked to him the next day, he didn’t remember any of it.”
“Or he was pretending because he felt like shit about taking a swing at the only person around here who puts up with his bullshit,” I say, then once again want to shove my entire foot in my mouth.
Easton doesn’t get mad this time. He just hunkers down and holds me a little tighter. I know that need for comfort, and it’s not hard to squeeze him back. “He didn’t used to be like this. Well, okay, that’s a lie. He was always kind of a rain cloud, but he wasn’t so fucking defeatist. It makes me wonder if he wouldn’t be thinking like this if he hadn’t had such a bad TBI. And then I feel like an asshole for thinking that. But the injury did change him.”
So did losing his husband, probably. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to be on the edge of trying to heal with someone and then losing them for good.
