Page 140 of When the Smoke Clears

“I need space,” she says.

I take a step back, standing outside the kitchen.

“Stop.” She fights to keep a straight face.

“More space?” I take another step backward. “This is as far as I can go. I gave you space for eleven years. I don’t think you need space. I think you need the one thing you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember.”

She parks a hand on her hip. “What’s that?”

“Me.”

When she doesn’t give me a response, not even a blink, I shrug. “Don’t pass this up. I’m like Halley’s Comet: If you miss me this time around, I might not show up for another seventy-five years.”

“When you’re a hundred and fifteen?”

“A silver fox,” I say, pulling my shoulders back.

“A fossil.”

I narrow my eyes.

“Will.” She sighs, lifting her gaze to the ceiling for a breath before closing her eyes. “Go home.” Her voice breaks, and all the lighthearted joking disappears. “I’m a mess.” She opens her eyes and quickly swipes at her tears. “And you can’t change it or fix it.”

This is it? I came here for her, but I’m leaving alone? What can I say to change her mind when I’ve said it all?

“I love you,” I say in another last-ditch effort. Isn’t that what she’s wanted to hear? I’m saying it. I’m here. I’m all in. My jaw clenches as I swallow my own emotions.

“Go home, Will.” She brushes past me.

As I reach for her hand, she pulls it away.

Chapter Forty-Six

Everleigh

After a long shower and a productive cry, I wrap a towel around my head and one around my body. When I open the door, I half expect to see Will, but after poking my head into every room, I discover he’s gone for real this time. What did I expect? I told him to leave, and that was the right choice. He’d impede my recovery.

A distraction.

My weakness.

Still, the young girl who will forever be trapped in my body wanted him to . . . I don’t know. Not give up so easily.

My father gave up. He didn’t stick around to see me. Maybe that’s my fate. A life where men continually disappoint me.

“One day I’ll find my prince,” I say, retrieving a bra and underwear from the dresser. After I put them on, I stand in front of the full-length mirror and comb my hair. “I’ll find a man who’s not afraid of my intelligence. A confident man who knows what I need more than I do. A caveman who solves all of our problems with a kiss that knocks me off my feet. And I won’t care that I grew up without a father, because he’ll be the only man I’ll ever need.” I dab my swollen eyelids and frown at my reflection.

I’m a mess.

I toss the comb onto my bed and glance at my phone on the nightstand. No messages from Will. Did I mess up? Is space not what I need? What if he is my Halley’s Comet? Maybe I should chase him.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m done chasing men. Done making up pathetic stories. Done begging for someone to love me.” I grab the pillow he slept on and bring it to my nose. “I hate you, William Landry,” I say.

“I hate you,” I say a little louder.

“I Hate You!” I scream into the pillow. Then I swing it, hitting it on the metal headboard. I whack it repeatedly. “You’re such a coward!”

Whack!