Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(97)

She missed the last three steps, flying through the air and landing at the foot of the stairs in a heap. Though Laire cringed at the sound of it, there was a certain relief in the ungodly shriek that followed. As every mother in the world eventually learns, silence is worse.

Rushing down the rest of the stairs, she was no match for Erik, who was already sitting on the floor, gathering Ava Grace into his arms.

Wailing pitifully, she buried her face against his chest, hiccuping and crying all over his pressed, light blue, button-down shirt, the marks of her tears bleeding into wide circles. Erik looked up at Laire, his eyes wide and worried as Laire squatted down beside them.

“Ava Grace, tell Mama what hurts.”

“My kn-kn-kneeeee. And m-my elb-b-b-oooooow!”

Erik’s face was fraught as he held on to Ava Grace, looking up at Laire for some kind of reassurance.

“You’re okay, angel,” she said, nodding at Erik, who exhaled a relieved breath and nodded back.

“I’m . . . n-n-nooooot!” she protested, tears still falling.

Laire looked at Ava Grace’s elbow, which was red and scratched but not bleeding. And her jeans over her knee weren’t ripped, which meant she’d just burned the skin on the denim when she fell.

“You got a few scratches, and I think you got the wind knocked out of you.” And wounded your pride in front of “Oscar.”

“I’m huuuuurt!” she insisted in a howl.

“Come to Mama, baby,” said Laire, putting her hands under Ava Grace’s shoulders to lift her off Erik’s lap, but Ava Grace resisted her, pulling away from her mother to nestle closer to him.

“Hey, little darlin’,” said Erik gently, finally finding his voice, “you sure know how to make an entrance.”

“What d-does that m-mean?” she asked between sniffles.

“Means that the next time you walk into a room, I’m goin’ to be standin’ nearby and ready to catch you.”

Ava Grace leaned away from his chest, looking up into his eyes. “You w-w-will?”

“Heck, yes,” said Erik, grinning at her. “Can’t let you take a trip like that again.”

“A t-trip?” she asked, sniffling loudly as her tears stopped falling.

“It’s a play on words. You tripped . . . so, you ‘took a trip,’ see?”

A tiny smile tilted up the corners of Ava Grace’s mouth as she nodded at him. “I took a trip . . . but not a good one.”

“True enough.” Erik chuckled softly, reaching up to push a lock of hair from her forehead. “You okay now? Can you stand up?”

“I’m hungry,” she said, frowning at him.

“I told Kelsey to save you some pancakes,” said Erik, sliding his eyes to Laire. “Just in case you showed.”

Ava Grace wriggled off his lap in a flash and stood up. “Thanks, Oscar!”

Laire watched her run to the dining room before returning her glance to Erik. She gulped softly, the word she needed to say sticking in her throat.

“Thanks,” she managed softly.

He nodded at her from the floor, then stood up. “Were you avoidin’ me?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, though she could feel her goddamn cheeks getting hot because she knew exactly what he meant.

“Comin’ down to breakfast late so you wouldn’t have to see me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, his lips on the brink of an old, familiar smile.

Laire took a deep breath, staring down at her boots for a moment before looking up at him. “Yes.”

He nodded in understanding, that smile still fighting for life. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” she squeaked.

He shrugged. “You’re stayin’ here. I’m stayin’ here. I know where to find you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means . . .” He stared at her, his eyes soft and tender, and so familiar, her breath caught with yearning. “I want to talk to you.”

“I have n-nothing to say,” she answered, hating the waver in her voice.

His eyes, so deep and tender, held hers without flinching, ignoring her words. “Will you meet me later?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I will not meet you, Erik. Absolutely not.”

“Why? What are you so scared of, Freckles?”

Freckles. Oh, my heart.

“Nothing.” Everything. “Why do you want to meet?”

He sighed, and she could see several emotions pass over his face before resignation won. Leaning closer to her ear, there was an urgency to his voice that compelled her to listen.

“I don’t understand why you broke up with me that day in the hospital. I’ve wondered about it every day for six and a half years. And now here you are, and here I am, and it’s . . . I feel like it’s the only chance I’m ever goin’ to get to find out what happened.”

She clenched her jaw, remembering that terrible day, a deluge of awful emotions returning in an instant—her desperate fear for her father’s life, her tremendous guilt, how she blamed Erik as much as she blamed herself and wanted to hurt him, how she’d bargained with God to save her father in exchange for her happiness with Erik. There were so many reasons she’d pushed him away—fear, spite, immaturity, desperation—and all of them were still painful. What good would it do to rehash it now? Besides, he’d been cheating on her that summer, even though she hadn’t known it at the time. Did he really deserve an honest answer?