Page 107 of Resisting the Fall

“This isn’t home, Maven.”

Her head reeled back slightly. “Is that what this is about? Another rant about how much you hate New York City?”

I did. I hated it here. I hated the long hours at a job I despised that earned barely enough to pay for the increased cost of everything. I hated how crowded it was. And dirty. And noisy. And that you could walk blocks and only see concrete and asphalt and buildings. I hated how no one smiled or made eye contact or greeted each other. But most of all, I hated how much Maven seemed to love this place. How she found awe and excitement in it all. “Another rant?”

She paused, facing me. “When we were home for Christmas, you couldn’t stop mentioning your dislike. You were constantly comparing it to the country—how fresh the air was in Autumn Ridge and how everything felt so friendly and welcoming. I got the point. Everyone did. You are miserable here and you can’t wait to go back.”

I swallowed. “But you can?”

She dropped her chin, her expression full of irritation. “I want to enjoy the last few months we have here. I want to experience what we can and take advantage of being in the middle of so much before…” Her words trailed off.

“Before what? You’re stuck in the middle of nowhere?”

Maven’s eyes narrowed. “You act like I don’t love Autumn Ridge just because I love it here. Two things can be true at the same time.”

“But you can’t have both.”

“Clearly.” She shook her head and threw her arms out wide, a touch of resentment in her voice. “Which is why I’m giving all of this up. The career I want. The incredible opportunities. All of it. I’m giving it up for you. For the life we planned together. Is that not enough? Do I need to pretend I hate the city to make you feel better about us going home?”

A vibrating started in my core, shaking me enough to see the truth of our situation. Maven would never be happy in Autumn Ridge. And I wouldn’t be happy in the life she clearly wanted. We’d made our plans before she realized what was available to her. It wasn’t fair of me to hold her to an uninformed decision because she’d fallen in love with a small-town farm boy. Maven was meant for this life. I wasn’t. It didn’t matter how much we loved each other. If we stayed together, one of us would end up miserable.

When I heard Maven’s keys in the door, I drew in a deep, fortifying breath. I could do this. I had to do this. For Maven. And, in part, for me.

She smiled when she first saw me. Then her gaze dropped to the bags at my feet. “Are you going somewhere?” she asked, closing the door behind her and locking it.

“I’m going home.”

She placed her violin case on the floor, her brow scrunched together. “Okay. For how long?”

I cleared the emotion from my throat. “I’m not coming back, Maven.”

She went rigid. “I don’t understand.”

“I love you, but we don’t want the same things anymore.” The break of my heart wasn’t clean. It was a fractured mess. But it was Maven’s heart that mattered. I knew my leaving would destroy her temporarily, but she was resilient. I didn’t doubt she’d be okay. Better than okay. She was going to accomplish incredible things. Things I’d only keep her from.

“What are you talking about?” She hurried toward me, tears brimming in her eyes. “Ben, I choose you. I don’t know how to make that any clearer. Do you need me to leave Juilliard? Because I will. Right now.” She turned from me. “I’ll pack and we can⁠—”

I grabbed her hand, pausing her. “That’s not what I want.” At least, it shouldn’t be what I wanted. My chest throbbed as I drew in a breath. “I should have let you go years ago.”

Her chin quivered, and I barely resisted pulling her to me and wiping the tears now rolling down her cheeks. There really was no other path forward. She shouldn’t settle, and I refused to be the person she resented when she had to give up her dreams. But I couldn’t be the one to support her in them anymore. I was making both of us miserable. My future was in Autumn Ridge. Her future was here.

Picking up my bags, I started forward, pausing at the door. “The rent is paid through the end of the contract.”

She released a shuttered breath. “Please don’t go, Ben.”

I kept my gaze on the floor, not having the strength to see her standing there, broken. “I want you to become everything you can become. I just can’t be part of it.”

Maven

I was sitting in an oversized pair of sweats, mindlessly stirring a mug of now cold hot chocolate, when my mom came into the kitchen to grab her car keys. She glanced at the clock—one forty-five in the afternoon—then back at me. “Everything okay, sweetie?”

I gave a vacant nod.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

I shook my head.

Mom wrapped an arm around me. “Well, if you change your mind, just call. I’ll be in class, but I can always step out.”