Page 108 of Forbidden to Fall

Everything seemed to have worked out for him. Would it for me?

I pushed aside the thoughts and walked up to them.

“Can I sit with you guys?” I asked, my stomach tight with nerves.

All three turned to look at me, and two of them broke into smiles.

Mia jumped off her dad’s lap and ran into my legs. “You can have Daddy’s chair, and I’ll sit on your lap.”

“I’m fine on the curb,” I said.

“It’s okay.” Ryan got up. “I’m going to go find some coffee.”

“You already had coffee, Daddy. See?” She indicated an empty cup in the camp chair holder.

Ryan picked it up. “Daddy needs another one. You want anything, babe?”

“I’m good, but thanks.” Lily gave him a look that lasted half a second too long. Like the one they’d shared after Mia’s powdered donut, this one was full of some sort of shared understanding—or, in this case, a silent communication only they could fully understand.

But I was pretty sure it had to do with me.

Why did things have to be so complicated?

Mia set aside her mostly eaten donut, choosing the curb as its final resting spot, and expressed a desire for another one.

Lily gave her some magnetic tiles instead, then with a smile at me, she patted the seat Ryan had given up.

I took it with a suppressed sigh and asked how she was doing.

“My blood pressure was a little higher than my OB liked at my last appointment,” she said, “but she gave me some tips for that, and baby looks healthy.” She ran a hand along the curve of her belly. “What about you?”

“I’m…busy.” That was the best I could do. Lily wasn’t exactly the right person to talk to about what was going on.

“How are things with the maple farm?” The way she looked at me made it obvious she was asking about something more specific.

“It’s been good,” I said, my voice a bit higher than usual. “It’s been a nice challenge for me to come up with the product ideas.”

“We still need to try them.”

“Oh, I can just bring you some.” That felt less dangerous than having them stop by the farm booth.

I hated that. Hated that I was having to navigate this impossible maze of emotions—mine, James’s, Ryan’s, Lily’s, Mia’s.

There was a short silence as I picked up one of the tiles that had collapsed from Mia’s princess castle.

“How is James?” Lily asked, her voice sounding almost too casual.

“He’s good,” I said. “Also busy.”

“I bet. You see a lot of him, I imagine.”

See, feel, taste. “Yeah, I guess.”

If Lily had failed at sounding offhand with her question, I’d crashed and burned sounding offhand with my response.

Lily’s watchful expression made that clear.

“Look!” Mia pointed. “It’s him! It’s Mr. James!”