Page 82 of Falling

“Sounds like everything you were looking for,” I said, stomach tightening.

Miles nodded slowly, then shrugged. “It is. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Your dream job,” I said. He’d called it that. Most of the time, repeating back exactly what someone had said about the decision they were trying to make was the best possible advice. People knew what they wanted.

Miles knew what he wanted.

The last thing I wanted was for him to miss a dream opportunity and regret it later. If he stayed because I told him to and then realized that he’d given up a golden opportunity on my say-so, he’d—rightly—blame me for it.

I’d rather part as friends than keep him knowing there was a ticking disappointment time bomb between us.

“Right,” he agreed, letting out a breath. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Of course I was. I was just telling him exactly what he’d already told me he thought.

It did sound like a good job. One that played to his strengths and experiences. An environment where he’d get to explore what he’d learned about himself here. A chance to spread his wings and fly.

How could I tell him not to take that? For me?

What did I have to offer that could possibly compete?

“But would you want me to take it?” Miles asked, looking up to meet my eyes.

He didn’t mean to ask impossible questions of me. It was just that he trusted me.

I wasn’t about to break that trust. Not even if it cost breaking my heart.

“What I want,” I said softly. “Is for you to be happy. Whatever that looks like.” I swallowed. “I⁠—”

Love you.

It was the truth, but now wasn’t the time. Even if it had been, I couldn’t trust myself to get the words out while there were hairline cracks opening up all over my heart.

I’d been an idiot to think about... the future, and the possibility of Miles being in mine. A greedy idiot. I had so much. The bar, the community, the family, being surrounded by people who loved me as their Uncle Book. How could I possibly ask for more? For this?

“I want whatever you want,” I said. Offers to support him, to help him move when the time came, all the things I’d do for anyone else stuck in the back of my throat.

I would help him, when the time came. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurry him along.

Miles nodded. There was something cautious in the way he was looking at me now—more so than even when I’d been a stranger approaching on the road.

Clearly, I wasn’t doing as good a job of hiding my feelings as I’d hoped.

I hated that. All I wanted was to be safe for him.

He turned, twisting the doorknob. As soon as his eyes were off me, mine started stinging.

I could not cry in front of him. I couldn’t make my feelings his problem. They weren’t. They were mine.

“I, uh,” I spoke up, clearing my throat when I heard the roughness in my own voice. “I think I’m still exhausted from yesterday.”

The wry smile I managed as Miles turned to look at me again wasn’t impossible to maintain. Not yet.

“Old, y’know?” I said. “I think I’ll head home. Can’t leave Andre and Dante alone to run the bar without me two days running.”

The look on Miles’s face changed, but not in a way that improved things. His eyebrows dropped to a disappointed angle, shoulders going with them.

“Of course,” he said, chipperness obviously forced. I wondered if the things I was hiding were as obvious to him.