Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
AVERY
“That’s awesome,” Ty says. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans, and I try to decide if he means it. He’s always been a little hard to read, but I’ve gotten better at it. The way his mouth twitches after is a tell. He doesn’t want me to go.
It has to be, right? This time it’s not simply my wishful thinking, my subconscious clinging to something that isn’t real. Deep down, as much as I hope that he cares about me, there’s only one way to know for certain. I need to hear him say it. I need him to ask me to stay.
I stare up at him hopefully.
“Just let me know the date, and I’ll help you move your stuff,” he adds.
My stomach sinks.
“Do you need me to pay for a moving truck?” he asks.
Does he want me gone that badly?
I shake my head. “Ol’ Harriet brought me here, and she’ll take me away too.”
He lifts his chin my way. “Right. Okay. Well, just let me know what you need.”
I need you to tell me not to go.
But saying that out loud would be crazy. I’m some pity case he took in. We’re not even dating. This was always temporary. He said it himself; he doesn’t do long-term. This is it. This is goodbye.
“The good thing is you seem to really be catching on to your dancing.” I try to smile. “Looks like it’s the end of the road for us all around.”
“I guess,” he says, eyes still locked on me.
“Guess so.”
“Well then…”
“Well,” I answer, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. I back away. “I’ll send you a save the date. For the move, I mean.”
“Right. Yes. Please do.”
My eyes drop to his pinched lips before meeting his piercing gaze again.
A jittery sensation arises in my chest, like palpitations, but there’s no way I’m about to have a panic—or heart—attack.
Right? Squeezing my eyes shut, I bury the sudden urge to Google my symptoms. Because would Google be able to determine that it’s a guy making me feel this way?
I’m lovesick. I’m not dying, though it kind of feels that way.
As I stare up at Ty, his face smooths, his brow creasing in that typical pensive way it does.
He can’t even tell that I’m inflicted. He’s staring right into me.
My heart wilts. Through me might be more accurate.
For once in my life, I don’t have anything to say.
Despite the awkwardness, I’m not sure how to choke the silence because every single word would only make this worse.
He’d feel uncomfortable, I’d feel uncomfortable.
And then something inside rears its plucky little head.
Because does any of this actually matter?
What’s the point in keeping things comfortable between us if I’m probably never going to see him again?
“Is this what you want?” My voice quivers as I ask the question, but I’m too anxious for his answer to be embarrassed by it.
“Avery, I…” He sighs.
“What?”
“I just…”
“Can you say what’s on your mind for once?” My words come out too harshly.
His eyes soften as he runs a hand down the back of his neck. “I thought we both agreed this was a temporary thing. I thought you wanted your own place. Some independence.”
My heart sinks. “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t know why I even asked. I’m excited to finally stop squatting here.”
My mouth wobbles into a smile, and when I round the wrought iron staircase to escape to my bedroom, it disappears altogether.
Because I don’t want to leave. I want to be with Ty.
As I perch on the end of my bed, staring into the vast, opulent room, the worst part is that he seemed indifferent.
He didn’t ask me to stick around. Facing rejection at a million auditions pales in comparison to this moment.
Ty doesn’t care enough to ask you to stay, to ask you to be in a legitimate relationship.
I could be anywhere—even in my car—and that’s not the worst part.
This is. My heart aches in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Being with Ty makes me feel an ease I’ve never had with another person. Not with an ex. Or a friend. Not even with my family. As I fall back into my comforter, pulling one of those dumb beaded throw pillows over my face, I attempt to deny what I know has become the truth.
This place—Ty—has become a haven. A home.
A haze consumes me as I stare at the crystal light fixture overhead. Dolly curls into my side, and I prop up onto my elbows, mentally sorting through my new to-do list.
Repack my things. Bundle them up. Maybe keep the hangers if Ty will let me.
A muffled buzz emits from beneath Dolly, and I dig my phone out from under him. The text is from an unknown number—one that identifies itself as Mary’s son. My heart sinks as I begin to read.
Unknown Number
Hi Avery this is Scott McMurphy. Wanted to let you know that my mom—Mary—is in the hospital. She fell today at work and broke her hip. Wanted to let you know the shop will be closed for the coming week at least.
Me
Oh no… Is she okay?
Unknown Number
After surgery, she should be
My heart sinks. She should be? This is not the news I would wish upon anyone, regardless of how crotchety they are.
I try to steady my breathing and form a text.
But my mind can’t help but surge back to this afternoon.
If I’d been there, could I have changed the outcome?
If I hadn’t been so irresponsible, if I’d kept up with my emails…
Would Mary be okay right now? Maybe she’d be knitting at home with her cat, not lying in some stiff hospital bed somewhere in debilitating pain.
My heart aches for her. I know I’m only one person, but I was supposed to be there. I should have been there.
Hot tears form, and I toss my phone aside, pressing the heels of my hands into my eye sockets.
If I just did what I said I was going to do, none of this would have happened.
I know exactly what she did. She overexerted herself because I wasn’t there to hold up my end of the bargain.
I was off doing my little cheerleader-dancer-bullcrap thing that I don’t even like anymore.
My chest squeezes as I admit it to myself and let the truth sink in.
I don’t like it anymore.
There’s a knock on my door, and I welcome Ty in. His beautiful lips part but before I can say anything else, I’m blabbering.
“I screwed up, Ty. Again. I wasn’t there.
And because I wasn’t, Mary got hurt. She’s in the hospital and it’s all my fault.
I had to go do the stupid dance stuff, and now here I am…
” I sit up briefly, but when he comes closer, a confused expression contorting his face, I fall back onto the comforter. “Picking up trash wasn’t worth this.”
There’s a long pause, and if my eyes weren’t squeezed shut, I’m sure I’d see a very confused—very overwhelmed—Ty.
“I—” he begins but then pauses again. “I’m sorry, I just— Are you…”
Something buzzes, and then I hear my door crack open again. When I sit up and look toward my doorway, he’s fidgeting with his phone. My body tenses.
Is Ty really about to leave me?
My nose stings as the tears continue to come. Another second passes before he shoves his phone back into his pocket and takes an unsure step forward. I try to smile up at him, but my lips wobble.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m a mess. No surprise there, I guess.
” I force a laugh as I swipe my shaking hands beneath my eyes and attempt another smile.
This time I try to show some teeth, but it’s only another lie.
Another mask. Mary’s words resurface: A smile isn’t a solution, Avery.
The weight of the sentiment presses in, nearly suffocating me.
Why do I do this? I’m so tired of plastering on a happy face when my life more often than not is filled with disappointment and confusion.
“Don’t do that.” The bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside me, a hesitant arm easing around me and cradling me into his side.
I give in, burying my face in his collarbone as he twists to face me. His breath catches in his throat as I cling to him like he’s the only thing that’s keeping me from drowning in my own tears. And maybe he is.
“Do what?” I mumble into the cotton of his shirt.
“Don’t blame yourself for an accident that was completely out of your control, for starters.” His arms tighten around me, his warmth a soothing antidote, slowing my tears. “It’s okay to have a frowny moment. Isn’t that what you said?”
I shrug, my shoulders sliding against his chest with the motion.
“Avery, look at me.” Ty’s big hands cup my cheeks as he tilts my face toward his. “It’s okay to be sad sometimes. It’s okay to feel guilty sometimes. It’s okay if you aren’t smiling like a maniac 24/7.”
“A maniac?”
He nods, his blue eyes softening as he gazes down at me. “It’s okay to not be happy all of the time. If you need to cry, cry. I won’t judge you for it.”
“Sometimes I smile to keep myself from crying. Or screaming. Or burning a place to the ground.”
He presses his forehead to mine, his voice lowering as he whispers, “As long as you’re here, you’re safe to do any of that. Except for the fire thing. One close call is enough.”
I freeze, registering how close we are. How easy it would be to feel his lips one more time. One last time.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
And then there’s that familiar buzz again. His phone vibrates, shimmying in his pocket against my leg.
His thick arms engulf me as he squeezes me to his chest. I stay tucked there until the vibrating in his pocket stops, until our breathing nearly matches up. Until my cheeks are almost dry.
And then his phone does it again. With a long sigh, he leans back. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”
A sad, small smile finds his lips as I wave him off.
“Yes. Go. Of course.” I dab at the few remaining tears sullying my cheeks. “Thank you for… for all that by the way.”
He nods, raising his phone to his ear as he sneaks out the door.
I’m really going to miss him when I move out.