Insatiable (Cloverleigh Farms #3) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,69

twisted my hands together in my lap. “I really love it here. I’ve been so happy all week being around family and revisiting all my old childhood memories. When I left at eighteen, I couldn’t wait to get away from all the slow-paced, small-town familiarity of it all, but now I feel differently. Now I kind of want to slow down. Now the familiarity of being home seems comforting and peaceful.”

“I understand that,” Sylvia said. “I love California, but there’s something about coming back here that just feels good. It’s like taking off your heels and putting your slippers on.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And I feel like I’ve lived in heels for a long time.”

“What about your job?” asked April. “Would you quit?”

“That would be difficult,” I admitted. “I’ve worked really, really hard to get where I am, and I’ve sacrificed a lot of things to be successful—romantic relationships, sleep, friendships, my health.”

“Why do you think that is?” Sylvia asked. “Does your career really fulfill you that much?”

“I don’t know anymore.” My throat felt tight, and I grabbed my water, taking a quick sip before going on. “Partly I’ve just always been that way—I get off on overachieving because subconsciously I must think it makes me a better person. It validates me. But also . . . it’s a pretty good shield.”

“A shield against what?” Sylvia asked.

I took another long, slow drink of water, trying to prevent myself from breaking down. “Against putting myself out there and really trying to make a relationship work. If I prioritize work over my relationships, then it gives me something to blame when they end—and they always do, because no one wants to feel taken for granted.”

“That’s true,” she said.

“Then I don’t have to internalize it,” I went on, seeing myself much more clearly. “Then it’s not, ‘Oh, he just didn’t want me.’ It’s more like, ‘Oh, he didn’t want me because I didn’t give him enough time and attention.’ It’s because of something I did or didn’t do, as opposed to who I really am.”

“That’s a really honest thing to admit about yourself,” said April. “It takes a lot of courage to really look in the mirror that way.”

My eyes filled. “For years, whenever my relationships fell apart, I’ve been feeling sorry for myself, asking, ‘Why don’t they fight harder for me? How can they just let me go?’ But of course, I’ve been sabotaging it all along. It comes to the same conclusion every time, because I force it to, like a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“It’s not them, it’s you,” said April with a gentle, teasing smile.

I nodded. “It’s me, because I’m scared. I never let them get close enough to me, and I don’t try to get close enough to them. Why would they fight to save it?”

“So what’s changed?” asked Sylvia. “What’s making you realize all this?”

“I really think it’s Noah.” I shook my head in disbelief. “It’s the craziest thing, you guys. I was telling him this last night—for the first time, really opening up about it. And he totally understood me and made me feel like I didn’t have to be so afraid. Plus he’s gorgeous and funny and thoughtful, and the sex is so good.”

“Wow.” Sylvia looked wistful. “All that is definitely worth fighting for.”

“Absolutely,” April agreed. “So what will you do?”

“I’m going to stay.” The words surprised me—even my decisive tone surprised me. Deep down, I must have already known what I was going to do. “I need to put myself out there and take a risk. Even if things fall apart with Noah, and right now that’s hard to imagine, I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering what if . . . I have to take this chance.”

Sylvia clasped her hands beneath her chin. “This is so romantic.”

I laughed, putting my hands over my stomach. “I have all the butterflies right now. Because I have no idea what he’s going to say.”

“What do you mean?” April looked confused. “Noah adores you. We told you yesterday, it’s totally obvious. It’s been obvious for years.”

“But there are complications. You guys don’t know him like I do.”

“That’s the point,” she said. “You know him so well.”

“No, I mean, he’s been really honest with me about not wanting to commit to a relationship. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. And I said I wasn’t looking for one.”

“Well, that was before,” suggested Sylvia.

“That was three days ago,” I told her warily. “Although it has been a very intense

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