Page 83 of More Than My Hometown

The important part is that she’s in pain and I can’t fix it. Because there isn’t a good answer here. No matter which option she chooses, it’s going to hurt. One a lot more than the other—at least for me. I can’t stand in her way though. I won’t.

“What did you tell them?” I ask, looking down at the food sitting on the table. For a moment, I think about trying to take a bite, but my appetite seems to have vanished.

“That I needed time to think. That this isn’t just my decision anymore.”

What?!

“Sure it is.”

“Nooo…” She draws out her answer, sitting back in her seat. Her face morphs into confusion, halting her tears for a moment. “It’s not. It’s an us decision.”

“Maisey, I can’t make this choice for you,” I bark. It’s harsher than I intend, my emotions coming harder and faster than expected. “Like you said, my life is here. Complete with my own big dream come true. Even ignoring that, I am the sole person behind The Booby Trap right now, remember? It’s not⁠—”

“Part of Hayes,” she finishes for me. “Right…”

She sighs, letting her head fall back. The war inside me continues to rage, the mix of emotions from sadness to anger battling each other for top billing as I watch her, waiting for her to move. To say something. Do something.

Even if it’s telling me she’s leaving.

I want to leap over this table and shake her. To scream “Pick me!” and “Choose us!” But I know that’s useless. She knows how I feel. And if she’s not going to pick our future on her own, then I’m not going to beg.

If she doesn’t choose us though, I’m also not sure I can live through losing her a second time.

“Ewan…I want our future…” she repeats. Although this time I don’t know who she’s trying to convince, me or her.

The walls start to close in on me, the realization that losing her a second time is suddenly a very real possibility. My lungs tense up, making it harder to breathe, and the temperature rises. With each new labored breath, I feel more and more like a giant in a strange land, rather than a man at his own kitchen table.

I need to get out of here. Need to find space to breathe.

“Thank you for dinner,” I mutter, pushing back from the table.

“Where are you going?”

Maisey pops to her feet, her gaze following me as I head for the door. I can feel her eyes burning a hole in my back, but I don’t dare turn around.

“Ewan, don’t,” she pleads. “Talk to me. We promised.”

I stop, turning back on my heel. I look at her, hair still piled on top of her head, the smudge still on her cheek, all of her still so kissable it hurts. My perfect, wild, free-spirited girl.

Walking back over to her, I press a quick kiss to her forehead.

“You need to think. So do I. I’ll be back.”

I kiss her again, then turn to go, letting the door slam behind me. I’m down the stairs in no time, once again ignoring the pain in my foot, making my way to the back alley where I park behind the building. The fresh spring air hits me hard, giving me a moment to catch my breath as I climb into my truck. It’s still not enough to solve all the questions in my head though. I don’t know what will be.

Because sitting here, one thing is becoming abundantly clear. My life isn’t in this town if Maisey isn’t.