Page 85 of Make It Last

“Oh, Chris.” I pressed a palm to my chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “It hurt. But that’s actually what got me into physical therapy. I had to rehab my shoulder from the fall because I twisted it when I fell. I enjoyed it, so I became a physical therapist. After that, I went on to nursing school, and here I am.”

“I’m so glad you’re doing well now,” I said softly.

“My point is that we all screw up. In our cases, we were not the bad guys in the equation. But sometimes people make really dumb decisions.” He gave me a wry smile. “I had a friend in college. Before pot was legal, he needed money. Seemed like a good idea at the time to make some quick money by selling it. He got in trouble and learned his lesson. He’s still a good guy. He just made a not-so-smart choice at the time. We all get to learn.”

I took a deep breath. “I hope this is a good move for me.” I wished I could be one of those bold people who charged into change, but I was wound up with anxiety over it all.

“You’re moving forward. Literally.” He gestured toward my ankle.

I’d healed that and was moving forward in more ways than one.

He gave me a small nod. “You’re doing better than okay, and this is all for the best.” He tilted his head to the side, a sly smile curling his lips. “So… you and Tanner?”

“Well, uh, he’s out at a fire,” I said carefully. “I’m not moving here for him.” I wondered whether saying that aloud might convince me.

“Oh, of course not, but you like him. A lot.” Chris’s gaze was warm and teasing.

I snorted. “I like him.”

“I can tell.”

“I do,” I admitted. “But I don’t know what’s going to happen. If I move here for him, that’s a messy choice if it doesn’t go well.”

“True.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get going for my next appointment. No driving for another week, though.”

“I know. You already told me that.”

He grinned and pulled me into a quick hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”

After he left, I lifted my foot in the air and examined it. I still had a lighter brace on my ankle. Not the bulky boot anymore, just something supportive. I wiggled my toes.

“Growly,” I announced proudly, “I can put weight on my foot.”

He blinked at me, sleepily unimpressed. That night, I was meeting my friends at Fireweed Winery to celebrate my new job and my terrifying, exhilarating, not-totally-mapped-out future.

As the day rolled on, I busied myself organizing things. I had not heard a word from my boss after giving notice, which was unsettling. I booked my flight, called my parents, and so on.

“You can’t be serious,” my mom said.

Even though we’d had more than one conversation about this, I knew she’d been clinging to the hope I’d change my mind. “I’m serious, Mom. No matter what, you’ll be fine financially. My new job pays better.”

“But we’re going to miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you,” I said, steeling myself emotionally. “But I need this. I need a fresh start. I never really gave myself the chance to think about other options before. Now I have that chance. You and Dad can fly up to see me. I’ll use my credit card points and get your tickets.”

She was quiet for a moment that stretched. “Okay,” she said finally.

“I love you, Mom.”

This was my life, and for once, I was choosing myself.

“Look at you!” Holly exclaimed, clapping her hands lightly as I stepped down the last step.

“You don’t have to cheer. I’m just walking.”

“I know. But you made it through the worst of this, so now you just have to not screw it up.”