Page 109 of Falling for Him

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We packed in silence, rolling up the sleeping bags, zipping up backpacks. Her hands moved fast, methodical. She was doing that thing people do when they don’t want to talk about something, when they’re trying too hard to look like they’refine.

I recognized it because Ilivedit.

The walk back up the trail started quiet.

Too quiet.

The birds chirped. The wind rustled through the trees. Gravel crunched under our boots. But no jokes. No sideways glances. No Fifi narrating the inner lives of chipmunks or making up trail trivia just to make me laugh.

And it gutted me.

Because I missed her already, and she was still right here.

About halfway up, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I suck at this,” I said suddenly.

She looked over at me, confused. “At hiking?”

“At being... open. Normal. Anything that involves being vulnerable without bolting in the opposite direction.”

She walked another few paces before answering. “I know.”

That stopped me cold. “You do?”

She turned to face me. “Ben. I might flirt like it’s a sport, but I’m not stupid. I canfeelwhen someone disappears on me, even if they’re still standing three feet away.”

The words hit like a blow and a balm.

Because she wasn’t accusing, she was just telling the truth.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“I didn’t mean to,” I said.

“I know that, too.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s not you.”

She smiled gently. “It’s never me. That’s what everyone says. But it still feels like it is.”

That hurt.

More than I expected.

“Back there,” I said, voice rough, “when you asked about my family…”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“No,” I said, meeting her gaze. “I do. They’re not... around. Haven’t been for a while. And it’s not exactly a highlight reel. I spent a long time putting my life on hold in an attempt to fix things that couldn’t be changed. So now? I don’t talk about it. Because talking means remembering, and remembering just hurts.”

She didn’t say anything at first. But then she reached out and took my hand, just for a second.

A squeeze. A pause.

Then she let go.

“We all have something,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to carry it alone.”