Page 104 of Resisting the Fall

It was as if a hundred-pound weight had settled onto my chest with how hard it was to pull in a breath. “Will we all live in a crappy studio apartment? Because I’m not sure how a guy without a college degree working construction is going to provide any of that for you.”

She lifted onto her elbow, a frown pulling her lips downward at the corners. “I’m not asking you to. It was hypothetical.”

“But all of that—that’s what you’d actually want.” I sat up, shifting to face her. “Not our life together in Vermont.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

Her mouth parted, her eyes filling with hurt. “Do you know how many opportunities I’ve passed up over the years so that we could be together?” Her voice rose slightly. “I get you’ve sacrificed a lot, Ben, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t made my own sacrifices for us.”

My brow lowered. I was genuinely confused. “What opportunities?”

Her gaze dropped, like she hadn’t wanted to tell me. “Study abroad programs, international internships and competitions, out-of-state networking opportunities.” Maven gave a small shrug. “That one summer I went to France, that was supposed to be an eight-week program, but I convinced them to let me do three weeks so I wouldn’t have to be gone the whole summer. Not to mention all the other summers I spent waitressing in Autumn Ridge so I could be with you instead of in Cleveland, where I had job opportunities that would have paid much better and helped build my resume.”

The triple thud of a broom handle against our downstairs neighbor’s ceiling silenced us momentarily.

Maven stood, releasing a slow breath. “Sorry, my hypothesized version of our life differs from yours, Ben.”

“It’s not that it differs. It’s how drastically it differs.”

Maven’s shoulders dropped. “I think right now I’m just struggling, watching so many of my friends get these amazing positions and prestigious opportunities, when I’m not even sure I can find a job as a high school orchestra teacher in our district. But once we’re back in Autumn Ridge and I figure out what I’m doing, I’m sure it’ll be easier to be content.”

Another round of thumps from our downstairs neighbor had Maven rolling her eyes. “We’re clearly both tired. I’m going to get ready for bed.” She walked to the bathroom with intentionally heavy steps. If I wasn’t so distracted, I would have smiled at her small act of defiance for our broom-loving friend beneath us.

Maven would be content when we got back to Autumn Ridge. Not happy, but accepting of her circumstances. Circumstances she almost certainly wouldn’t choose for herself if it weren’t for me. Was I holding Maven back from everything she actually wanted?

Maven

I leaned into Ben, his arm around me as we drove back into Autumn Ridge. We’d gone up to Burlington for dinner like we’d planned, but our marriage counseling session with Mr. Hughes had put a slight damper on the evening. Ben had been surprisingly quiet from the start of it, keeping his answers short and not once teasing me. A huge contrast from our last session. It had taken an intense amount of effort on my part to pull him from his pensive state as the evening had progressed, and though he was back to his teasing self for the most part, he still seemed somewhat guarded. Apparently, the truth was hard for both of us, and Mr. Hughes’s observations had been uncomfortably on point.

Namely, that we’d stopped inviting the other person into the decision-making process in our relationship. Not because we didn’t care—we’d simply wanted the other person to be happy. We’d wanted to shield them from disappointments and burdens. It turned out that assuming what someone needs or wants leads to making sacrifices no one asked for. But, thinking of all those years Ben and I maintained a long-distance relationship, it had never felt right to mention the opportunities I’d given up so I could be with him. Probably because I knew he would have told me to take every one of them.

“Want me to drop you off at your mom’s?” Ben asked, tightening his hold on me as if subconsciously giving his opinion.

“It’s only nine forty-five,” I said. “What if we grabbed some ice cream at the market first, then went to your place to eat it?”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

I glanced over at him. “I always think ice cream is a good idea.”

He dropped his chin, sending me a pointed look. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“That old habits are hard to overcome?”

Ben’s brows lifted. “I’m an old habit?”

“No, you’re worse than that.” I leaned in close to him, discreetly breathing him in. “You’re an addiction. You should come with some sort of warning label.” I lifted my finger, tracing a spot on his neck. “It should go right here.”

He gave a tight laugh. “Sounds to me like we shouldn’t go back to my place, then. I don’t want there to be any regrets.”

My heart sank. Not just at the reminder that this was all temporary, but at Ben’s acceptance of the inevitable. Which meant I had some soul-searching to do. Was I wanting Ben to ask me to stay? To fit me back into his life here in Autumn Ridge? That would be crazy! My life was in New York. My career. And yet, cuddled up next to him as we drove, it felt like this was all I needed to be happy.

“What if we put a few boundaries in place?” I was suddenly unwilling to give up more time with Ben. If our days together were numbered, I wanted to make the most of them. “Strict boundaries. I have no intention of spiraling farther than necessary at the end of this.”

He didn’t respond for a good solid breath cycle, his gaze locked on the road. “So pre-barn situation boundaries?” he finally asked.

I jabbed my elbow into him, my mouth parted. “Ben!”