Page 112 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
“I’d heard that,” I said quietly.
“After losing Steph, Jack was miserable and determined to stay miserable. When I came along three years later, he was flat-out rude to me. I mean Grade A dickhead. Category five asshole. But he felt like he had to be. It was his defense mechanism. Underneath all that broody bluster, he was scared to let me in.” She leaned forward. “I think your giant signposts are exactly that—a defense mechanism. Jack wasn’t really an asshole, and you’re not really doomed to heartbreak. But you tell yourself that you are to lessen the chances of life pulling the rug out from under you again. You stay off the rug altogether.”
I frowned. It felt like Margot was saying the same thing Wes had—I was imagining things. “But I feel it in my gut,” I insisted. “Wes and I will never be happy.”
“Your gut is telling you that?” Georgia asked. “I don’t think it’s your gut.”
“I don’t either.” Margot shook her head. “I think it’s your head.
I thought about it and agreed my head was definitely a problem. “You could be right. There is a lot of doubt swimming around in there.”
“When you look at Wes, or think of him, is your first reaction love or fear?” Margot asked.
I pictured him. “Love.”
Georgia pointed at me. “There’s your gut.”
“And your heart,” Margot added. “You just have to figure out a way to overrule your head. Stop looking at everything as a sign of doom.”
“But I could get hurt.” My chest grew tight at the thought of it.
“Yes, you could. And you might.” Margot grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Love is a risk, Hannah. But it’s always a risk worth taking.”
Deep down, I wanted to believe her. Because I ached for Wes. He had my heart and I wanted his. And I wanted to be the kind of person who lived life fully and didn’t let fear hold her back. But could I be that brave? “I just don’t know if I have it in me.”
“You do,” they said together, then laughed.
I smiled too, despite the tears, and made my decision. “Thanks, you guys. I’m going to call him when I get home.”
“Good girl,” said Margot.
“Cheers,” said Georgia, holding up her glass. “To love.”
“To love,” echoed Margot and I as we clinked glasses.
One more chance, I told myself. I’d give love one more chance to prove it could overcome all the odds stacked against us.
Ten minutes later, that chance went up in smoke.
Twenty-One
WES
That week, I’d looked at my phone more than any human being should look at an electronic device. I willed it to ring. I begged it to buzz with a text. I checked it obsessively, to the point where I was starting to go nuts.
But I didn’t call her. I didn’t want to be the guy who smothered the woman he loved. I didn’t want her to think I couldn’t give her space when she needed it or make her feel like what she’d asked for was wrong. Only the biggest asshole in the world would be like you don’t need space, babe, you need my big hard dick, although deep down I felt like going caveman on her. Driving to her house, carrying her up the stairs, throwing her down on the bed and worshipping her body until she was convinced that I loved her enough that I’d never let anything keep us apart. But I didn’t do that, either.
Although I thought about it a lot.
My mother was in a particularly good mood all week, which shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. I couldn’t help thinking how miserable Hannah and I were in comparison. Maybe because I was home for dinner every night. Maybe she was truly that excited about my birthday dinner. Maybe she was secretly glad Hannah and I weren’t spending any time together this week. I wasn’t sure what it was, but by Thursday morning, her cheerfulness was borderline grating.
Don’t be an asshole. She’s your mother, and she’s happy you’re home.
That afternoon, she called me as I was leaving work. “Hello, darling,” she trilled. “How was your day?”
“Fine. Yours?” I unlocked my car and got in.
“Oh, fine. Listen, I’m downtown at that cute little martini place, the new one, and I wondered if you wanted to meet me for a drink.”
