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As she trotted off, starting up the stairs, I gazed after her, feeling frozen and forlorn. This was it. She was leaving. I wanted to rebel, and yet I knew that was ridiculous. She had to return to school. But it felt all wrong for her to leave like this. Things might be fine for her—she certainly hadn’t acted as if anything were wrong between us—but they damn sure weren’t fine for me.
“Huh,” Ben spoke up thoughtfully from his chair. “Bailey’s never kissed me goodbye before. Strange.”
I glanced his way to find him tenderly prodding his forehead as if the impression of her lips there had left a tangible mark on his skin. I have no idea why that spurred me into action, but I sprang from the couch where I’d been forcing myself to stay put, and I hurried up the stairs after her.
She’d already retrieved her overnight bag and had the strap hooked over her shoulder. Now she was standing silently with her back to the door as she faced her room as if trying to remember something she was sure she was forgetting to take with her.
I wanted to say, me, you’re forgetting me. I wanted to go back with her more than anything. But I knew that was selfish, and it’d be best for both of us if I stayed.
Hearing me, she turned, and her chest expanded as she drew in a deep breath. Finally, she appeared regretful about leaving me behind. It was like a balm to my heart. No idea why. I just felt better knowing this was as hard of a moment for her as it was for me.
Suddenly, I knew I could handle this, because I knew we were in it together.
I stepped forward. “Here.” Reaching out, I took her bag before she could protest. “I’m carrying this down for you.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t.” She reached after me as I turned away. “Your ribs.”
“I’m carrying it down for you,” I said with more force.
When she spoke again, saying my name, “Beck…” it was soft and uncertain, and it stopped me in my tracks.
I paused in the doorway and looked back at her. Indecision crossed her face. She wanted to say something. When her mouth opened, my pulse stalled, waiting anxiously for her words, hoping she’d say something about the kiss. About…any of it. About us.
But then her shoulders fell, like maybe she’d chickened out, and she ended up asking, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? You staying here while I…?” She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to.
I shook my head, ignoring the disappointment in me. “There’s not really any other option, is there?”
“No, but I…I didn’t really give you an opportunity to say yes or no. I just kind of made the decision for you.”
“Because it was the right decision.” I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice. “In a perfect world, yes, being separated from you is the last choice I’d make.” My admission made her lips part with a silent gasp, so I kept talking before she could respond. “But our world is fucked up, and this is what’s best for you. You’d be crucified if everyone found out you’d been harboring me. And besides, I need to learn how to be independent again.” I had to stop relying on her. “This is what we both need.”
Except I needed her more, I think.
I was just too afraid to admit it. It was easier to let her go than admit anything.
“So, let’s get you on the road before it turns dark,” I added, tipping my head toward the hallway as I stepped out of the room, encouraging her to follow me and pretty much forcing the conversation to end there, because I was also too afraid to hear what she might say in return.
I heard her sigh after me before her footsteps entered the hall and began to follow me.
Her dad met us at the front door and walked us out to her car, where I realized the rest of our farewell wouldn’t be private. I had wasted the last moment I’d had with her alone, avoiding what I really wanted to say because I’d been too afraid to speak up.
And now…now her dad was asking her if she needed any money for gas or food as I opened her back door and set the single bag into her back seat.
“I’m good,” Bailey answered, glancing at me as I rejoined them. But as soon as we made eye contact, she whirled back to her dad.
“Don’t work him too hard until he’s completely healed, okay? He won’t admit it, but I’m fairly certain he has some cracked ribs.” She glanced worriedly at me as if she might be reconsidering leaving me. But then she whirled back to her dad. “Sometimes he gets these mini panic attacks. They’re not bad; someone just needs to remind him to breathe and coach him through them—”
“Don’t worry, Bailey,” Ben said, holding up a hand to stop her from worrying further. “I’ll take good care of the kid and remember to feed and water him every day.” With an indignant sniff, he muttered, “I raised you and four boys on my own, now didn’t I? I got this.”
Bailey began to nod, her shoulder relaxing. “I know. You’re right, but…” Her gaze returned to me. “Oh! His truck. It’s still sitting outside my apartment. And all his things…”
But her father was already nodding as if he’d thought of that. “Booth can drive him up sometime to fetch his belongings. Now, seriously, stop.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, comfortingly. “I promise, we’ll take care of your boy.”
I don’t know why it encouraged me that she didn’t argue that I wasn’t hers, but it did. Happy she was at least worried about me and even amused by how cute her concern was, I teased, “I’m standing right here, you know. You can talk to me about all this.”
So she turned to me as if she might do just that, but instead of rolling her eyes at my joke or punching my arm, she gulped uneasily. This was the dreaded moment, the final goodbye. Pain pierced her gaze. “Promise me you’ll get better. And I’m not just talking about the bruises and ribs. I want you better, Beck.”
Her gray gaze bore into me, her hope and worry striking me straight in the heart.
