Page 150 of You Fall First

“And you were struggling.”

“Life’s a struggle.”

“I wanted to help.”

“I know.” She lifts her gaze again. “And I love you for it. I love you so, so much. But I had doubts about this move from the beginning,” she admits. “That can’t be a total surprise, Noah.”

My torso might as well be a trash compactor. “We both agreed there’d be an adjustment period. This kind of feels like you’re giving up too soon.”

“I’m not, though.” She gulps, visibly. “I’m just finally being fully honest with you.”

Whoa. Okay.

This shuts me up. Fast. If I haven’t been open to her telling the whole truth, I need to change that up immediately.

“All right.” I bob my head, an invitation for her to share what she’s truly been thinking. “I’m listening.”

“You offered us a place to live. You got me a job. Dutton absolutely adores you. We both do. And I could tell this was supposed to be a gift. To us.” She looks at her lap again. “So not agreeing felt … ungrateful.”

“You aren’t ungrateful, Paige.”

“I wanted so badly to want this,” she squeaks. She raises her chin again, eyes wide and pleading.

“But?”

“When I left Dutton with you to go home and pack up, I totally intended to push through all my reservations. The minute I got back, though, I had second thoughts.” She pauses to swipe at her nose. “Then I had third thoughts. And fourth. When the whole appendix thing happened, and I literally couldn’t leave, a part of me thought that was a sign. And the longer I was stuck there, the more my heart kept telling me Mayville is where we belong. Dutton and I.”

My stomach churns, thinking about how many tears the poor kid shed, begging to go home. He’s been saying it from the beginning, but I stuffed that under the belief that his being here would be better in the long run. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Her lip quivers. “Because I knew how much us moving closer meant.”

“To me.”

“To us, too,” she says. “Dutton and I miss you. Don’t get that twisted. It’s just that Mayville is the only home we’ve ever known. Our friends are there. My friends and Dutton’s friends. Mom and Dad are buried there.”

We both lock eyes, and silence stretches between us.

“I abandoned you,” I say, the confession full of sorrow.

“Don’t ever say that.” Her eyes flash. “Your moving here wasn’t wrong, Noah. You always put others first. Always think about everybody else. But you should be able to make choices for yourself too, sometimes. That’s all you were doing when you came here.”

“I was doing this for you and Dutton,” I say, my words rough as sandpaper. “To make a bigger, better life for you. For all of us.”

“I understand.” She straightens. “But bigger and better mean different things to different people.”

I sit back, dragging both hands through my hair, tempted to pull every strand out. My body’s a tumult of emotions—guilt, grief, helplessness—all fighting over which one will win. Mostly, I feel like crap that this is all news to me.

I must’ve been so caught up in my own agenda, I missed all the signs.

“I pushed too hard,” I say.

“Or I didn’t push back hard enough,” she counters, sounding more like the old Paige already. “That has to end now, though. And the longer I keep pretending things are okay, the more painful things will get.” She swipes at her wet eyes. “So I’m going to call Havenwood on Monday and talk to HR. This boomerang is on me, and I’ll make sure they know you had no idea.”

Work. Right.

Paige was barely keeping her head above water, and now she’s quit her job and left her apartment to move here for me. In no way do I want to minimize everything she’s done to provide for her and Dutton. She’s amazing. But what’s she going to do now?

My jaw ticks.