Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,62

here to hold me up, just like I’m trying to do for my family. But I drop my phone back down and sigh, letting tears leak out of my eyes as I curl up into a ball.

What’s the point of calling him? I’ve already emailed the school in Woodvale telling them I won’t be able to take the job. My future is pretty much set. I’m not going anywhere.

Calling Kit will only make things harder.

It’s a week until Christmas, but I don’t think we’ll be doing much celebrating this year.

In the morning, I wake up to a text from Kit. It’s just an emoji of a kissy-face, but the sight of it makes me cry. I want him here, desperately, but I know I can’t have him.

Maybe I should just break things off. Tell him that I’m not going back to Woodvale. Explain that I like him, but I need to be with my family.

But even the thought of doing that makes pain shatter across my chest. I’m not ready.

I head downstairs to find my mother in the kitchen, planning the menu for Christmas dinner. My shoulders round, but I take a deep breath and pick myself up, painting a smile on my face.

“It’ll be nice to have people over without sadness clinging to everything,” I say, but the words feel empty. Sadness isn’t clinging anymore. It’s burrowed deep into all of us and made itself at home.

That night, Kit calls. My heart jumps when I answer, closing my eyes at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, you,” he says, warm honey flowing over the phone and heating up the cold ache in my chest. “Guess what?”

“What?” My lip twitches, trying to smile.

How could I break it off with him? I’m not strong enough. His texts and phone calls are the only good thing in my life right now.

“Lydia promised me two pumpkin pies all to myself if I spent Christmas at her place,” he says. I can hear the grin in his voice.

“Yum. Wish I could have a slice.”

“I’ll save you some.”

My chest constricts.

“Kit…”

“Don’t, Serena. Please.” His voice is a whisper, and I stop talking. I know what he means. He means don’t break things off. Don’t withdraw. Don’t push me away.

What’s the alternative, though?

My weakness wins again, because I say nothing. I curl up on the bed and listen to his voice, letting a wave of calm wash over me.

“I miss you,” I whisper softly, knowing I shouldn’t say these things out loud. It’ll only make it harder in the long run.

“I miss you too,” he replies, and I like hearing the words a bit too much. We hang up the phone and I grip it to my chest, sighing heavily.

What are we doing? Why am I stringing him along when I know I won’t be going back to Woodvale? It’s cruel. The kindest thing to do would be to let him go.

I don’t, though. While I have to be the strong one with my family, I can’t be strong with Kit. Every night, I crawl into bed and dial his number. As soon as I hear his voice, the pain in my heart eases, and I’m able to fall asleep.

We do this for three weeks. Through to the end of December, all the way past Christmas and New Year’s. Every night, we call each other and I fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Every morning, I tell myself that I need to pull away from him, but by the end of long, painful days, I’m ready to crawl back to him again.

That’s how I know I’m in trouble. Night after night, I keep going back to him.

I won’t be able to let him go.

25

Kit

In the new year, Robbie comes back to his regular route with me. When he sees me in the staff lounge in Seattle, he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight.

“Nice to see you too,” I grunt, pulling away.

“Missed you, man.”

“Same.” I grin. “Looks like I got lucky with you as my first copilot. The rest of these people are boring as hell.”

Robbie laughs, but there’s a sad edge to the sound. He slumps into a chair, letting out a long breath. His uniform crumples beneath him, but he doesn’t move to straighten it out. I stare at my friend, wanting to make sure he’s okay—but there’s only one thing on my mind.

“How’s Serena?”

Robbie’s eyes flick to mine, understanding written all over them. “What’s going on with you two? You guys