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She purses her lips, shaking her head as the hint of a smile curls on her red-painted lips.
Then it hits me.
The only other person to know both me and Nora well enough. I’d kill him if I wasn’t so grateful.
“Alex,” I say, already knowing I’m right.
“He might have mentioned it.”
Taking a deep breath, I grasp at confidence, pulling it from thin air. “I know I turned down the job. I don’t have any right to ask for a second chance, but I’m asking. You were right. I can do it. I can do it well.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. It’s yours. But you should know, it’s not what you’re used to.”
Good.
I need to leap out of my comfort zone. I need to get my blood pumping again.
Sitting straight, I nervously run my fingers through my hair, sweeping it over my shoulder.
“I think it’s perfect for you, Claire. It’s a big undertaking, but I have full faith you can do it. You know I’d never offer unless I did. You’ll be amazing for these families.”
My heart is pounding, my mouth is dry, and my breathing is non-existent. “I hope so.”
I know it’s a big deal because Alex showed me photos during construction. It’s not like the simple house I’m currently sitting in. It’s a sprawling complex with twenty private apartments built inside. There are common areas, offices, playrooms, and everything any of those women and children could need. It’s all there until they feel ready to enter the world again. The support continues when they leave to live independently. The foundation helps them to find housing, already having a head start on their education, should they choose to enter the education program.
This is a huge step in my career, and my fear is taking over.
“Claire,” she says softly, “You were made for this. You don’t just have the qualifications; you have real-life experiences. You know these women. You know these children.
“I know it’s a big move. Take a month or two to get organized and make sure Damien is prepared here. If it works out—amazing. If it doesn’t—you can come home. Don’t spend your life wondering,what if?” She takes my hand, squeezing it firmly as she places it on her lap. “Do it for the young girl that wanted to make a difference. Do it for her.”
I don’t know why a single tear leaks from the corner of my eye.
Probably because I’m scared half to death.
Don’t see the ugly.
I smile and ignore everything screaming at me on the inside. My fear is so loud I can’t hear the chaos of children running riot.
But something else is trying to break through.
Excitement.
Hope.
A good nervous and a flame burning bigger than it has in a long time. It courses through my blood and makes my heart hammer in my chest.
To hell with fear.
I’m taking the leap and growing my own damn wings.
Chapter Five
When I was a teenager, I stopped crying for five years.
I can pinpoint when I stopped, and the second it started again.
I know many people live their lives not crying, but mine was a conscious choice.
