Page 94 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“Still haven’t had any epiphanies about what you want to do for work, huh?”
“No. Well, I have lots of ideas. Unfortunately, they’re all for Rory and Willow Tree Elopements, which doesn’t do me much good.”
He perks up at this. “Ideas for Rory, huh? Have you shared them with her?”
“Not yet.” I let my head tip back now, closing my eyes. “We haven’t been talking much. I know she’s busy, and I don’t want to bug her.”
“I know she wouldn’t mind.”
I nod and sip my beer. “I know but… I… We…” I’m stuttering, rambling.
“You… what?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Are trying to figure out how to be apart after you let your lives intertwine more than you intended while you were in Tahoe?” he says, answering his own question.
“What?” I splutter.
“Breck. I know you. I know my sister. There was something there from the beginning. We could all see it, even at the wedding.”
I swallow thickly, prepared for him to get mad or yell. He doesn’t do either.
Instead, his face softens. “What do you want, Breck?Reallywant? Not what you think you should do, but what do youwant?”
The question stuns me, but my answer comes easily. “I want what’s best for Willow. She’s my priority.”
“Okay, of course, and what does that look like? What do you think is best for Willow right now?”
“I don’t know anymore. When Talia left, I felt like it was best for us both to take time away. To get some space, find ourselves together—just the two of us. Then we’d come back and rebuild the life we had here. I never planned to uproot her for so long. She’s struggling now, and that feels like it’s my fault.”
“What if the reason she’s struggling is because being here isn’t what’s best for her anymore?” His voice is a little sad, but there are other emotions laced under it that I can’t place. When he glances at his phone, a small smile tugs his lips up.
“I guess I’d need to figure out where would be best for her.”
“Yeah, and what about you? Where would be best foryou? Is it here?” He swipes a hand out, indicating the sprawling city around us. “You know I want you here. Always. I love you, man, but does Sydney feel like where youwantto be, or are you just here because it’s where you think youshouldbe?”
I shake my head. “Other than you and Joss, nothing about Sydney has felt like home since we’ve been back.”
“That’s what I thought. I’ve never seen you struggle to find your place. You fit in everywhere. You find a home with everyone. You can come up with some harebrained scheme at the drop of a hat. But you’re stuck.” He puts his beer down and stands up, moving to lean against the railing to face me.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and blow out a breath. Then I tell him the truth. “I miss Tahoe. I miss Rory. I want to talk to her all the time. When I wake up in the morning, when I go to bed at night, when Willow says something silly or cute or irritating. I want to talk to herall the time, and that scares the shit out of me.”
“That’s good.”
I chuckle darkly. “Really? That’s good? It’s good that I can’t stop thinking about your sister, the one who lives half a worldaway? The one who didn’t even text me back this morning when I finally broke down and told her I miss her?”
“You did?”
I push out of my seat and pace into the living room. “Yeah, I did, and she didn’t respond. So what does that tell you?”
“It tells me this is about to be a really good day,” Wes says, following me in.
“What?” My brows draw down, more than a little confused.
He doesn’t get a chance to respond before the apartment door opens and Joss walks in. She’s laughing, the sound mingling with Willow’s giggle, but it’s the third laugh that stops my heart in my chest.
Time freezes as Willow and Joss part and I see her. A mess of strawberry-blonde waves in a bun on top of her head. The freckles I was imagining just this morning spread across her nose and on her cheeks under turquoise eyes. Eyes that find mine and it’s like a defibrillator to my heart, bringing me back to life. Her smile starts small but grows until it overtakes her whole face.
“Daddy! Look who’s here!” Willow shouts and bounds toward me. “It’s Rory!”
“I see that, baby girl,” I say, still unable to pull my eyes away from the vision in front of me.
