Jace shakes his head. "Just seems like this goes a little beyond making sure I don't ruin what you've built."
"Yeah, well…" I shake my head too. "Savor it because I promise there's no one there to ease you out the same way they're there to ease you in."
He nods quietly to himself, taking in my words, and I do the same. It's true. If someone were there to guide me out the same way I'm trying to guide Jace in, maybe I'd have some clue of what I'm supposed to do next.
The thought triggers something in me.Holy shit, that's it.Ideas immediately flood my head, and just when my instinct to tell someone—to tellher—comes to mind, my phone buzzes inmy pocket.
I rush for it, and when I see Tessa's name flashing across the screen, everything else fades away.
"Hey," I say, answering eagerly, my heart pounding inside my chest. "I was just thinking about you."
There's a pause on the other end of the line.
"Liam?"
I hesitate. "Tessa?"
41
Tessa
Ifound Jo—or rather,she found me. Or rather… the concierge at the hotel found her passed the fuck out in front of the free-breakfast waffle maker.
I'd just gotten into my car to head to her house. I thought fixing that—or at least finding her—would make me feel differently than I did last night. But then the hospital called, and I only felt worse.
I didn't know I was her emergency contact, though that didn't surprise me. A nurse with a calm, friendly voice told me that my sister was fine, but that she'd need to stay for monitoring, and hospital protocol meant she couldn't go home alone. I almost asked her to screamI told you soto Jo before I showed up, just to save me the trouble.
But I didn't.
Instead, I said I was on my way and asked her to let my little sister know I'd be there as fast as I could.
Luckily, the convention was just under an hour and a half from Liam's house—about an hour from the little town Ruthie and I visited for her social studies project. And because of the time, and it being the weekend, I didn't hit much traffic.
Admittedly, I left the house before Liam woke up on purpose. I needed to find Jo before I could give him my full attention—before he asked where I was going. He didn’t need the added stress, and I didn’t need the reminder that I’d so easily skipped over it last night.
Ineeded to at least fix this part first.
I think this decision goes deeper than I want to admit. I’ve been so focused on how Ruthie might react to me stepping into her life in that capacity, that I never stopped to ask whether I was worthy of it. Of any of it.
I don’t know what a real romantic relationship looks like—one where both people are fully invested. I know Liam is more than I ever thought to ask for, but am I enough for him? For both of them?
I know he’s stressed about his future. And raising a preteen can’t be easy—I know how hard it is to stay on top of my siblings, and they’re all adults. He hired me to make his life easier, not to add more strain. I can do that as the nanny—take care of Ruthie, tidy up the house, bake banana bread until my fingers go numb. But last night, curled around him and talking about this next chapter, it hit me that I don’t know if I know how to be more than that.
So now, I'm walking toward the room number the lady at the front desk gave me, fighting an internal battle between yelling at Jo and hugging her close, all while feeling guilty for leaving Liam and Ruthie, today of all days.
Peeking into the room, with sterile white walls and that hospital scent that's like latex and bleach had a baby, I find Jo. She's sipping apple juice from a straw jammed into a plastic carton, her eyes pinned to a rerun on MTV.
"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" I say, stepping inside.
Jo's eyes flick to me, a grin flashing across her face before reality settles in.
"Juice and The Hills? You know that was scripted, right?"
She scoffs, forcing her usual attitude. "Spoilers." She slurps up the last of her drink and sets it on the rolling table beside her bed. "I never watched it when it was popular… obviously. One man's rerun is another man's first time."
"Always too cool," I say, walking over to the empty chair beside her.
"Duh." She winks, but the way she fiddles with the corner of her blanket tells me she knows this banter's fleeting.
