Page 78 of From Square One

It’s my turn to smile. I draw his wrists away from his face, because if I can’t hide from him, he shouldn’t be able to hide from me. His eyes are rimmed red and his pale face is smeared in tear streaks.

“Ever since the accident, I’ve been so terrified of losing you,” he breathes. “I feel like I’ve been drowning. I was worried that someone like you falling for someone like me was a fluke—it couldn’t possibly happen twice. I said I’d start from square one if I had to, but having to go back to the beginning right after you finally got comfortable saying you loved me…it was so hard. I’ve been bottling it up because I didn’t want to burden you…”

Aaron chokes on a cry and buries his face in his upper arm. I’ve never seen him like this—not even in the memories that have returned. “Of course I’d fall for you twice,” I say softly. “Look at me. An hour ago I wasn’t even functional. I could barely move. You give me the energy to exist.”

I massage away his tear streaks with my thumb.

“Liking you was an accident,” I whisper. “Falling in love with you wasn’t.”

Aaron’s inhale is broken and scratchy. He throws his face into my shirt and bursts into sobs, his arms sliding around my back and clutching me like I’m a lifeline. I hug his head to my chest, letting his tears soak into the fabric, my fingers working through his dark hair. His voice is garbled, but I can faintly hear the words he’s choking out. Thank you. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry. Thank you.

His speech was nice. Genuine. This is even more so.

“I forgive you, so stop apologizing, okay?” I say. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

I hear raspy laughter that falls away into crying again. I’m not sure which of us falls asleep first.

But we do, curled around each other, arms and legs tangled beneath the comforter.

26

“I moved in with Aaron because I didn’t have the courage to talk to you.”

My parents stare at me in bewilderment across the dinner table. I twirl my gluten-free spaghetti, hoping it’ll keep them from noticing how much my fingers are shaking. Logan’s head remains bowed, his expression neutral. He hasn’t tried talking to me in two weeks, since the day I made up with Aaron.

“I wanted to see what it was like, living my life without worrying about anyone else’s,” I say, steadying my voice. My eyes wander to the golden chandelier shedding a calming radiance over the kitchen. “I know it was a shock. I remember your faces the day I packed and moved.”

Mom chirps with laughter, poking at her own pasta. I can tell she’s nervous. “We weren’t expecting it,” she admits.

“I know. So I’m talking to you first this time.”

Dad’s salt-and-pepper brows knit. Logan continues watching the tablecloth, like the pattern is mesmerizing.

“I don’t have plans to move out,” I say sternly. “But that could change. I…I’ve never been good at setting boundaries. I’ve always done as I was told because I felt I owed a debt, thanks to the medical complications. There should be a change, though. Especially once college starts.”

“You’ve never owed us for your medical issues, Riley,” Dad says carefully.

“But you’ve been letting me pay it off anyway,” I respond.

His eyes widen with surprise, like my words are resonating with him for the first time.

“What boundaries would you like to set, honey?” Mom asks. She’s blinking fiercely now, as if combating tears. I guess I’ve never spoken my thoughts so bluntly before—maybe she’s coming to the same realization my dad is.

“Workload.” I swallow with difficulty. “I’m happy to help out in the summer when I don’t have a job or classes, but I shouldn’t be shouldering every errand or cleaning duty. Also, I won’t be making two meals every night anymore.”

My parents exchange bemused glances. They don’t look upset—just startled. I’ve never confronted them before, so they’re probably not sure how to take it. “We’re sorry if we made you feel like you needed to carry all the work around here,” Mom says softly. “We appreciate everything you’ve done to keep things running, Riley. But you’re right. There needs to be a change.”

“We don’t mind gluten-free food,” Dad tacks on. “Whatever makes things easy for you. And only if you’re feeling up to it.”

My eyes flit to Logan. I’m not sure he’s paying attention, but I don’t care.

“When I start college, there should be an even divide in work,” I say. “Let’s come up with a schedule to make sure everyone has a hand in things. The last-minute requests have to stop, too. Even if it’s urgent, don’t expect me to drop what I’m doing to get something done. Got it?”

My parents nod vigorously in agreement. Logan plucks at a loose strand in the tablecloth.

“Lastly, Aaron is my boyfriend, whether you like it or not,” I say sharply. “He’s there for me and makes me happy, so please deal with it.”

I rise to my feet, knees trembling as my kitchen chair scratches against the floor.