Page 87 of Chasing the Other Woman

I forget what I’m holding. Coffee, maybe. It tilts until hot liquid burns my thumb. I hiss under my breath. Sam’s mouth tightens slightly, holding back a reaction. Then Hershel says something, and she looks away.

This happens four more times across the parking lot, between people, over the roof of Unit Two, through the steam rising from wet asphalt as the night cools around us. Every time she looks at me, my chest goes tight. Every time she looks away, I let her.

Then she hands her plate to Hershel and walks toward me.

The space around us seems to drop away. She stops a few feet away, close enough that I can see the small tremble in her fingers before she tucks them into the sleeves of the oversized jacket someone gave her.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.” My voice comes out too stiff, but it’s the best I have.

Sam looks toward the line of damaged trucks. “You avoiding me?”

“No.” I pause. “Trying not to crowd you.”

“That’s new.”

“I’m learning.”

Her eyes come back to mine. There’s enough softness there to give me hope and enough hurt to keep me careful.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me,” I say.

Her face stills.

“What happens next time.” My fingers tighten around the paper cup. “What happens the next time I get scared and decide I know what’s best for you.”

She swallows.

“I have an answer.”

Someone laughs near the supply table. A motel door opens and shuts along the second floor. I keep my eyes on Sam.

“I don’t want to put you back on the team.”

Her expression shutters before I can get the next words out.

“Because that still makes it mine to give,” I say quickly. “It still leaves me standing there with the authority to decide whether you belong in the life you helped build.”

Her lips part.

“I talked to Hershel. Nothing’s done. Nothing’s signed. I didn’t make a decision and come tell you after.” I make myself hold still. “I want to hand control of the operation to you.”

Sam stares at me.

“You make the field calls. You decide the team structure. You decide where everyone belongs. Including me.”

“Brooks.”

“If you want me in the lead truck, I’m there. If you want me running base, I’ll stay behind the screens and do the work. If you want me consulting from three counties over, I’ll do that too.”

Her eyes shine in the motel light.

“And if the first thing you do is fire me,” I say, my voice going rough, “then I’ll hate every second of it. But I’ll accept it.”

She doesn’t move.

“That’s the only answer I’ve got,” I say. “There can’t be another time where I get afraid and take your choices away. So I’m stepping down from the position that let me do it.”