Page 165 of What We Break
"Four months, and you're ready to send her to Honduras for three years?"
When he puts it like that, it sounds insane. But it's not about the timeline. It's about... fuck, I don't know what it's about.
"I don't want to be the reason she doesn't follow her dreams."
"What if you're her dream?"
The question hits me harder than it should. What if I am? What if what we have is worth more to her than any job, no matter how perfect?
But that's the problem, isn't it? I can't know. And if I convince her to stay and she regrets it, that'll poison everything between us.
"I don't know," I admit.
"Well, you better figure it out. Because if she's half as smart as you say she is, she's probably sitting at home right now thinking you just told her to leave."
Christ. Is that what I did? Did I basically break up with her while trying to be supportive?
We pull into the station and start unloading our gear. I'm going through the motions—checking equipment, restocking supplies—but my mind's still on Laine. On the way she looked when I walked out of her apartment. Confused and hurt and alone.
Maybe I should call her. Or text. Just to make sure she knows...
Knows what? That I love her but think she should leave? That I want her to stay but think she should go?
I don't even know what I think anymore.
"Reid?" Walsh appears in the bay doorway. "Your girlfriend's here to see you."
The words take a second to compute, then my heart starts beating faster. Laine's here. She came to find me.
"She's in the break room," Walsh adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He figures this is a regular visit. He has no idea my entire future is riding on what happens next.
"Thanks," I manage.
Tony grins and claps me on the shoulder. "Good luck, man."
I walk toward the break room on unsteady legs. She's here. But what does that mean? Is she here to tell me she's taking the job? To say goodbye? To tell me what an asshole I am for basically pushing her away?
Or is she here to tell me something else entirely? Fuck. Please don't let it be that. Don't let her break up with me, but also stay in town. I think I'd lose my fucking mind if she was here, but no longer mine. She is not the kind of woman you move on from.
I push open the break room door and there she is, sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. Her hair's pulled back in a ponytail, but pieces have escaped and she keeps tucking them behind her ear.
She looks up when I enter, and her eyes are a little red-rimmed like maybe she's been crying. But she's here.
"Hey," I say, suddenly unsure of myself.
"Hey." She stands up, and for a second we just look at each other. "I hope it's okay that I came here. I asked Joyce where your station was."
"Of course it's okay." I step into the room, but I can hear voices in the hallway. The guys trying to be subtle about hanging around. Nosy bastards.
"I've been thinking about what you said," she starts, then stops. Looks toward the door where Brennan just walked past for the second time in thirty seconds. "Is there somewhere we could talk? Privately?"
"Yeah. Let's go outside."
I lead her through the station, very aware of Tony giving me a thumbs up and Walsh trying to look busy while obviously watching us. We walk out to the parking lot, and the late afternoon sun shines on her hair, giving her a golden halo.
Jared. God. Mom. Whoever is up there, please don't let me fuck this up.
Laine leans against my truck, then pushes off and crosses her arms, then uncrosses them and tucks that piece of hair behind her ear again.
