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No. I was who I was, and I was stronger now for having stood up to my dad. The worst had happened, and I hadn’t crumpled. If anything, my shoulders lifted higher, footsteps echoing louder on the porch. No let. Let was barely better than giving up entirely. No, I was going to fight. Demand. Me. Not Monroe. No waiting around.
He liked when I took charge, so take charge I would.
And his car was in the driveway, so there was no time like the present.
“Monroe?” I called out as I entered the house. Silence. “Monroe?”
But no Monroe downstairs at all, only a pissed-off Wallace who wanted to express his extreme displeasure with the world in a series of loud yowls and meows. Letting Wallace lead the way, I checked the second floor, finding only a perfectly made bed in the primary bedroom.
The third floor, though, yielded an alarming assortment of tools, most of them mine, and a cracked window with Monroe out on the balcony. The last of the summer sun glazed the house and yard in warm tones while Monroe had strung little fairy lights all along the railings. The lights welcomed the coming darkness with an aggressive optimism that seemed at odds with the gulf between us. The whimsy was also most unlike Monroe.
“What’s this?” I asked, careful to pitch my voice low so I didn’t startle him as I opened the window wider. Turning, he straightened with a boyish grin, innocent but vulnerable in a way that made my heart twist.
“I decided to shore up the old balcony.” He held up an electric screwdriver. “Tightened all the screws, checked for any additional wood damage, replaced a few of the worst planks.”
“Good work.” I hefted myself out the window, sitting down next to where he stood. “And the lights?”
“I wanted to give you the stars. But it’s supposed to be overcast and hazy tonight. These will have to do.” He slumped to the narrow deck floor, wrapping his arms around his legs and hugging them close.
“They’ll do. They’re pretty.” I ran a finger down the nearest strand. And there we sat in silence, breathing in, breathing out, thighs brushing, fingers resting millimeters apart, night falling, daytime sounds like lawnmowers and sprinklers giving way to distant music and the soft rustling of foliage. The lights were totally out of character for Monroe, but this gift of space was all him, the part of him I loved the most, how he never forced things.
I’d come into the house with a full head of steam, but this gesture had disarmed me. I’d needed the time to collect my thoughts, and he’d offered me exactly that, sitting patiently.
“You want to give me stars?” I asked at last.
“I want to give you everything.” His voice came out a whisper, quietly certain and more forceful than any yell.
“Oh.” My fight, along with the anger and confusion and hurt I’d carried for days, gave way like an old brittle board. Maybe I wasn’t going to have to battle him after all. Perhaps we could build.
Chapter Thirty
Monroe
“I want to stay.” I kept my voice firm and clear. Despite my sure tone, Knox’s eyes narrowed like he was ready to pounce on the slightest hint of doubt.
“You can’t say that.”
“Of course I can.” I’d expected skepticism, but not this irritation. I risked reaching for his hand, grateful when he allowed me to take it. “And it won’t be easy. But I want to stay. I want to try, Knox.”
“No, I mean, you can’t say that yet.” He groaned like I was supposed to follow his convoluted logic. “I had this whole speech planned about how you need to give us a real shot, not just wait for us to fail in some all-white condo in the Bay because you’re scared to commit to a place. To me.”
“You’re right. Part of what was holding me back from staying was the fear of succeeding. You’re everything I ever wanted, the dream I buried deeply, and I was afraid to unearth anything else. Letting myself love the town and want the whole happily-ever-after package with you felt like a step too close to the sun. So yeah, I was terrified of going all in.”
I briefly closed my eyes, heart hammering from the effort each honest word took, heavy swings of a sledgehammer to open that box of dreams I’d hidden so well. Under my thumb, the pulse in Knox’s wrist fluttered. I wasn’t the only one with buried wants. “But you’ve also been running scared.”
“Yep. I haven’t made it easy on you.” He agreed far faster than I’d anticipated. “But I’m done sprinting away from the things I really want, done holding back from getting everything I want, and I’m ready to take responsibility for my future. All of that. I started by telling my dad I’m taking Frank and Leon’s offer.”
