Page 27 of Fall Love

I just wanted a few minutes alone with the place. A heart-to-heart with Dad.

What should I do? Where did I go wrong? I’m sorry, Dad.

“I still don’t want to sell,” I whisper to the windows, reflecting the light of a new day. Early September promises to be frustrating where the weather is concerned. Warm during the days, cool at night. I already feel the heat climbing against my back.

“A sale is inevitable.” Tate isn’t speaking unkindly. In fact, he might even sound compassionate, understanding, but the second he speaks, my temperature skyrockets.

Forget our intimate moment the other night.

Forget his promises about the birth, or even that he’s the father of my child.

“Why?” I snap. “Because you said so?” I huff in his direction before glancing back at the building, my eyes clouding like the layer of sea salt on the windows.

“Because the bank says so,” Tate counters quietly.

My breath hitches, and I glance at Lumi.

“You know Dad took out the reverse mortgage.” A means to collect money from the value of the property. “And you know it’s all used up.”

We’ve been scraping by month to month, just barely making enough to keep the lights on and basic supplies in stock. Every month we balance out, and every month I heave a sigh of relief. But living like this also means there’s no space to breathe. My paycheck is small, because my sisters deserve their cut, as Dad wanted it split four ways. Even that is a pittance, and more than once, Lumi has tried to give me her slice of the pie.

“Ask Saint for the money,” I state, because my mouth works faster than my brain sometimes. Her boyfriend is a chazillionaire or something and has pennies to spare.

I already know she’ll say no.

I already know I don’t mean it.

Saint isn’t in her life to be our personal bank.

“Who’s Saint?” Tate asks.

Lumi gives me a sympathetic look. “You know I’d never do that.” Her voice softens, almost as if she understands my desperation, but still needs to explain her feelings. “It’s not about that between us.”

Not about the money.

I know. I know. Still, I blink hard, then close my eyes to hold back the tears.

“I’m sorry. I know,” I whisper. “I love Saint, too, and I’d never allow you to ask him anyway.”

Lumi quietly chuckles. “Well, thank you for restricting permission.”

I sigh. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Lumi says. “I know,” she repeats, because this place is special to me.

Not necessarily less special to her or my sisters because of Dad, it’s just different for me.

“But it’s time,” Lumi says.

The doctor has already told me no more hours in the garage. I’m being cut off before I was ready. Kind of like Dad’s passing. Here one day and then gone too soon.

“I don’t like goodbyes,” I whisper, still staring at the faded brick. Never have, which might explain my lack of interest in anything long-term. “They hurt too much,” I admit. Then I sob and cover my face, the emotions like a car crash. A rush of adrenaline and a lack of brakes.

I don’t like to cry, but I’ve been so emotional with the pregnancy.

Hormones, Lumi had explained.

As I stand there and cry, my chest aching, Lumi runs her hand up my back, bringing me to her, but suddenly, I’m tugged against something hard and firm. Something solid but malleable as arms wrap around me, a hand covers the back of my head, and I’m pinned to a chest.