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“It’s not a bother.” I reach for her arm, a thousand belated words on the tip of my tongue, but she moves too quickly and she’s out of reach.
Faith stomps up the steps to their front door. She bumps it open with her hip, and I’m on my feet, dizzy with panic.
There was a moment back there—an opening. I should have said something. Anything. Now she thinks I don’t care, and that’s worse than pressuring her. Fuck.
“Wait, Faith—”
The door closes with a thud, hard enough to rattle the knocker. I lunge up and try the handle, but it’s locked.
“Faith!” I thump on the wood, the door trembling in its frame, but she doesn’t come back. Each unanswered knock leaves me more hollow, jarring my bones.
After a minute, I give up and retreat down the steps, my face numb. The waves sigh against the beach behind me.
* * *
“You’ll look out for her, right?”
We’re on the sidewalk at dawn as Stephen slings his bags into the backseat of his car. He’s driven the same rusty red beater for the whole time I’ve known him. He’s in dark jeans, battered sneakers, a gray t-shirt and a utility jacket. It’s too hot for all those layers, but what he can’t carry, he wears.
Faith’s brother still looks sick with guilt, and he keeps stealing glances up at her bedroom window. The curtains are closed.
“If she’ll let me,” I say.
Stephen sighs and nods, clapping our hands together in a brief handshake before rounding his car.
Normally Faith sees her brother off too. She likes to fuss over him, making him coffee and forcing toast into his hands, gnawing on her lip with worry the whole time. So damn cute.
It must be hard for her. Stephen is her only family, and his job is dangerous. They can go for weeks, sometimes months, out of contact, but her brother has the distraction of his work. All Faith has to make her feel better is…
Well. Me.
“I knew she…” Stephen trails off and waves at me, mouth twisted in distaste.
“Thanks for that.”
“No, sorry, I just mean…” He searches for the words. Meanwhile I’m still in the same clothes from last night, without a wink of sleep to my name. It’s too early for this. “I didn’t realize how bad she had it, that’s all. That letter—”
“Forget the letter.” It comes out harsher than I intended, and Stephen jolts back in surprise, but I don’t take it back. The last thing Faith needs is the rest of us lingering on the subject. “She didn’t write it for us. Forget you ever read it.”
Stephen raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re gonna do?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t believe me, I can tell. The knowing look Stephen gives me as he slides into the driver’s seat makes me want to tear his wing mirror off and fling it at the beach.
I don’t, obviously. It’s not really him that I’m mad at, and besides—if I didn’t have rock solid impulse control, Faith and I would have sorted things between us long ago.
That’s supposed to be a reassuring thought. So why does it make me want to crash to my knees?
“She’s got this 10k coming up.” Stephen leans out of the window, sunglasses perched on his nose, watching me steadily above the frames. “She was going to ask you to train with her, but she won’t bring it up now.”
I nod, rubbing at the ache in my chest. “I’ll offer.”
If she lets me. If I can even get close.
“And she took on a bunch of extra commissions last week, so if she seems tired or forgets to eat—”
“I’ve got it,” I interrupt, because this is Faith 101. “I’ll take care of her, man. You can always trust that.”
