The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(87)

With a hard push, I break free from his hold and step away until my back is flush to the door I just walked through. Houston starts to step toward me again, but I hold up my hand.

“Don’t, Houston. Please,” I say. My voice is forceful, but my emotions are in check. I won’t cry, even though everything inside me hurts and is begging to pound on his chest, to commit treason against all of those things I know I’m supposed to do. I can’t stay here; I can’t be with Houston just because I want to. That…it isn’t enough. I promised Joyce I wouldn’t string him along if I couldn’t love him as much as he loves me.

I can’t. And even if I could—the Campbells would find out, and take away Leah’s trust.

“Say it,” he says. He’s crying now. As dark as it is, I don’t need to see his eyes to know. I hear it—his voice is ragged, and desperate. “Say it, Paige. Say you don’t love me. Make me believe it.”

“I’m sorry, Houston. But I don’t love you,” I say. I don’t cry. I don’t break. My words are calm and even, despite the absolute hell I’m living inside. I may as well have stabbed him in the heart with my words. He takes a step back, his face flinching in shock, and I know that I’ve sold it. He believes me.

A full minute passes—time filled with nothing but the way Houston is looking at me right now. I stand in place, my arms folded across my body, my eyes open and on his. He leans back against the counter, stretching his arms to either side, his hands gripping the edge as he stares into me. He’s waiting for me to break, for both of us to wake up, and for this not to be real.

That is never going to happen.

“Don’t…do…this,” he whispers. I don’t answer. Standing here, looking at him. Not being able to go to him—to press my cheek against his chest and feel his arms wrap around me—it’s torture.

More time passes. Minutes. All we’re doing is standing here in the dark, breathing. But if feels like we’re dying.

“I’ll help you in the morning,” he says finally, his voice showing some resolve to the heartbreak I’ve just pummeled him with. I remind myself how much worse it would have been if I stayed.

“You don’t have to. Nate will help,” I say. Houston looks to the side.

“I can’t even help you move out,” he says, a sad smile crawling into place as he shakes his head.

“It would be better if you didn’t,” I say. What I mean is it would be better for me.

“Leah is going to be…” he doesn’t finish, and I’m glad he doesn’t. That was the only part of my plan that I couldn’t find a way to do quickly. Nothing with Leah could be fast.

“I’ll leave something for her,” I say, grasping a little now. I breathe slowly, trying to hide it from him. “I’ll write her a letter. And I’ll leave her a present.”

He smiles once, his gaze still off to the side, but it fades quickly.

“Okay,” he relents. I know there’s a chance he won’t give it to her. He may hate me by the time this night is over. That would be better than what I think he’s feeling now.

I wish I could hate him. That would make this easier, too.

“I’ll be out by the time you get home from work,” I say, and he lets out a breath of a laugh. He still won’t look at me, and that hurts the most.

“You can leave everything on the counter. You know, keys and stuff. And don’t worry about the lease, or paying for this month,” he says, his eyes coming to mine finally, but only for a second.

I wait as he pushes off from the counter, my arms squeezing my body tightly, anticipating his approach again. But he stops after a step or two, his hands finding a home in his pockets, his body exhausted, his heart—broken.

“As bad as this feels,” he says, lifting his eyes up from the ground to mine in a slow drag that cuts me in half, “I wouldn’t take it back. Not any of it. Not even this. For a minute there—I know you loved me. Even if you don’t now…I know you did.”

His eyes give me one last challenge. I hold strong, and after a few painful seconds, he turns and climbs the stairs, switching off the lights on his way and closing his door behind him. I’m left alone, in the dark—so much of right now feels like the way my life began in this house. Only this time, I let myself cry.



Houston



Her things are gone.

I knew they would be. I’ve learned never to doubt her. I left before she woke up. I brought my mom up to speed over breakfast, letting her know things didn’t work out, that Paige was moving out. I think my mom could tell I wasn’t in the mood to elaborate; she didn’t ask questions. My mom promised to have Leah out of the house for the day, too.

Paige left a gift behind for my daughter. I read the letter. It was…perfect.



Miss Leah,

I had to move out because my sister was sad not living with me. You know how you said your dad was good at making your bad dreams go away? Well, I do that for my sister. And she does that for me. We really need each other. But I wanted to make sure I left something behind for you, since you are the princess of the house. I hope you will enjoy what’s in this box.

Love,

Paige



It’s that L word that mesmerizes me. She wrote it here, so easily. I don’t open the box. It wouldn’t be right. Instead, I move the gift and letter to Leah’s room, setting it all in the center of her bed.