Page 14 of Fall for You (Second Chances #7)

Ronnie

“ M m, is it morning already?”

I looked down at Alana’s sleepy form with a smile. Her red hair was a riot of tangles over my pillow, and somewhere during the night the blanket had slipped down to her waist, leaving her bare breasts exposed. She was the picture of debauchery.

And I loved her so much it hurt to breathe.

“Yeah, time to take care of the animals,” I said, my voice rough like I’d chewed on ground glass.

“Do you want help?” she asked, already halfway to falling back asleep.

I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

I stopped in the kitchen to feed Oliver, who was already meowing loudly for his breakfast, then I grabbed a banana and filled up a travel mug with coffee before heading out towards the barn.

With the Fall Festival behind us, both Alana and I had more time to hang out and despite her initial hesitation, she’d started sleeping over after our nights together.

I loved waking up with her, even though I kept having to remind myself that it was all just temporary.

Despite my best efforts to protect my heart this time around, I’d fallen for her again.

Of course, how could I not? Alana was funny, thoughtful, smart, and once again had become my best friend.

Time flew by with her. We could talk for hours, and even the most mundane things became more fun when we were together.

Everyone in town was gossiping about us, wondering what was going on with us.

I wish I knew. Alana hadn’t mentioned leaving Hayword in weeks, but I knew she had to be working on it.

In the meantime, she was supporting herself by picking up some freelance marketing clients to keep money coming in.

Everyone in the area was impressed by what she did with the Fall Festival, and at least two local organizations had already asked her to help with some of their marketing work.

But it wasn’t like she could make a living helping local organizations with their marketing projects.

Even if Alana wanted to stay, there weren’t any employers nearby that could hire her full-time, at least not in her chosen field.

Rural Illinois wasn’t exactly a hub for advertising firms or larger corporations.

I wondered how her image rehabilitation in New York was going.

She’d mentioned once that as soon as another scandal came along, the furor over her indiscretion would fade.

She might have to start over at a lower level position again, but she’d seemed confident that eventually she could work her way back into the good graces of the advertising elites in the big city.

I knew we needed to talk. Worrying about what her plans were and when she was leaving wasn’t productive.

We spent hours talking about everything except our feelings and what we were doing.

Of course we also spent hours making love, making each other come over and over again.

I liked to think that our bodies were saying what we couldn’t: that we were in love, that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.

But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Just talk to her. Ask her what her plans are now. See if they’ve changed or not.”

My cousin Jake and I were having lunch at the diner later that day after picking up an order from the Feed Store.

We’d settled into the back booth and over a lunch of chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes I’d poured out my heart to him.

He’d always been a good listener, and unlike my mother, he could keep a secret.

“Did you know that ninety-eight percent of break-ups are attributed to communications issues?” Jake asked.

I looked at him suspiciously. “I thought a good percentage of break-ups had something to do with money.”’

“Yeah, miscommunication about money.”

My cousin had a way of saying things like they were gospel, even if they were bullshit. Still, I knew a lot of people whose relationships had gone down the tubes because of communications challenges, so maybe that was true.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Alana tonight.”

“Are you the lady who’s dating Chloe’s sister?”

Ugh. Lady? That hurt. I was only thirty for cripe’s sake.

I looked up to see our teenage waitress standing by the table. I couldn’t recall her name, but I remembered her telling Alana she was Chloe’s best friend.

“Uh, kind of.”

“Tell her congratulations on her new job, wouldja? That’s so cool. I wish I could live in the big city.”

My eyes bounced from the waitress back to my cousin. “Okay, I will.”

Jake was looking at me like he was expecting me to blow up. Or cry. Either one would make him uncomfortable. My cousin hated being exposed to any emotions, including his own. It was a miracle he’d been open enough about his feelings to snag a wife.

“Pay the check, please,” I said quietly. “I’ll meet you in the truck.”

I didn’t say a word the entire ride back to the farm.

Jake looked over at me a few times, his face etched with concern, but thankfully he didn’t speak.

When we got back to the farm I told him I didn’t feel good and took off for my house at the back of the property.

Fortunately it was late enough that Alana was long gone.

Kicking off my work boots, I dropped into the closest chair and finally gave in to the tears prickling behind my eyes.

Alana got a new job? She hadn’t mentioned a thing. Clearly she would be leaving soon. She’d told me that the only advertising firms that were worth working for were in New York City, although there were also some decent sized firms in Los Angeles. Either way, she was going away. Far away from me.

When was she planning to tell me? Was she planning to wait until the day before she left, the way she did in high school?

***

Twelve years ago…

Alana met me in ‘our spot’, the loft in the barn, a bottle of Boone’s Farm strawberry wine in her hand. Even though she gave me a smile, I could tell something was up because her eyes looked troubled.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

She twisted the cap off the wine and poured it into two red Solo cups before handing me one.

“I’ve got big news.”

“What kind of news?” I asked cautiously. “Something good?”

“Well, remember how I applied to NYU’s marketing and advertising program?”

“Yeah.”

She’d told me it was her ‘stretch’ school and that they’d never take someone like her, someone from ‘Nowhere, Illinois’. I’d told her it was stupid to spend the money to apply if she knew she had no chance of getting in anyway.

“I got accepted, and they offered me a scholarship.”

I paused, my Solo cup of wine halfway to my mouth.

Suddenly my best friend looked nervous. “They offered me a full ride, Ronnie. To NYU, where I can intern with the big advertising firms on Madison Avenue. It’s everything I ever dreamed of.”

“Are you going to take it?” I asked.

She looked surprised at my question. “Yeah, I’d be an idiot to turn down an opportunity like this.”

“What about U of I?” I asked.

We’d made big plans to go to college together and share a dorm room.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going with you. I’m going to NYU.”

My heart was pounding in my chest so hard I could scarcely breathe. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

My eyes widened. “You got accepted today?”

Her face softened with regret. “I got accepted in June. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So let me get this straight, we’ve spent the entire summer planning for our time at U of I and all along, you knew you weren’t going with me?”

Alana’s eyes filled with tears. “It was killing me to keep this from you Ronnie, but I wanted us to have this summer together.”

We’d spent the summer hanging out, having sex, and talking about our future. But it was all a lie.

“Get out.”

“What?” Alana looked at me like she thought she’d misheard.

“Get out. You laid here in this loft, you kissed me and fucked me and promised me all the things we’d do in college… you told me you LOVED me, and it was all a lie. I never want to see you again. Get the out of my barn.”

“Ronnie…”

“Get out!” I’d screamed so loudly I was surprised I didn’t shatter a window.

Alana’s eyes filled with tears. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear it.”

“Well you did a great job of it anyway,” I said bitterly. “Have a nice life.”

***

I thought that Alana had grown up enough that she wouldn’t do something like that again. Dumping people without warning was rude and juvenile. She seemed way less conflict avoidant than she’d been when we were kids. I also thought our friendship was stronger now. More mature.

But clearly I was wrong. Alana was up to her old tricks, and I wasn’t going to sit back and wait for her to decide to talk to me about her departure plans. There was only one thing to do: break it off with her before she dumped me to go back to New York.

It was going to hurt, but I’d get over it. Eventually.