Chapter 18

eighteen

“I don’t think life is supposed to be easy,” Fallon said, her voice soft.

Savannah had felt her tense instantly, and she regretted the comment. She knew what she’d been walking into when she said that, how Fallon was likely to take it, but she hadn’t managed to keep her mouth shut. She was exhausted, mentally and emotionally, and she hadn’t been able to keep herself together so as to not hurt Fallon in the process.

Sighing, Savannah stepped back and deliberately put space between them. She wanted to go back to the couch and curl up in a little ball again, to hide away from the big bad world out there and create a cocoon of safety in here. And yes, that did include Fallon. At least for now.

“I know it’s not,” Savannah said, dropping her voice and her gaze, thoroughly scolded. She wrapped her arms together over her chest. She was caught between wanting to leave the room and wanting to stay.

“I know it’s not my place to say anything, but Brinley’s struggling. She says a lot without saying a lot.” Fallon frowned. “I used to do the same.”

Savannah jerked her chin up sharply. “Are you saying he’s abusing her?”

“I’m saying it’s not a healthy situation. Beyond that, I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything to me one way or the other, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s taking in a whole lot more than people think she is.”

Savannah closed her eyes, falling back into the counter. She hated this. She’d brought Brinley into this world, and now she was just trying to protect her from the very place she’d brought her. Shaking her head, Savannah pulled herself together as much as she could. “I’ll talk to her.”

“All right.” Fallon stayed firmly on the other side of the small kitchen.

It was so odd. Any time before, in the last few weeks anyway, Fallon had come right up to Savannah and hugged and kissed her without problem. It had been that way that night even. But now she was pulling away. She was putting space between them. She was deliberately not coming closer. Savannah could see it in each move that Fallon made, whether Fallon was aware of it or not.

“Will you stay the night?” Savannah asked.

Fallon shook her head. “I really shouldn’t.”

Instead of looking at Savannah, Fallon moved toward the stove and checked on the food. She wouldn’t even glance in Savannah’s direction. That was as much confirmation as Savannah needed. Fallon was pushing her away, and it was probably because she was too much, the whole situation was too much. Fallon had said from the beginning that she’d wanted to keep this casual, and that she didn’t want the emotional entanglements of a relationship.

Yet, they hadn’t really stuck to that, had they?

Savannah stayed right where she was, watching Fallon in silence as she pulled the food from the oven and set it on the stovetop. She snagged the plates and started plating everything, giving each of them a full plate and Brinley a much smaller one.

“I’d really like it if you would stay,” Savannah said again, her voice quiet. She was just trying to get some sort of confirmation that what she was thinking was actually happening—that Fallon was going to leave here and they wouldn’t see each other again.

“I can’t tonight.” Still, Fallon didn’t look in her direction. “Brinley!” Fallon called into the other room.

It didn’t take long for Brinley’s small feet to pad their way into the kitchen. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the plate. “It looks so colorful!”

“It is,” Fallon answered, handing the plate and the fork over.

“Eat in the living room,” Savannah commented as Brinley walked through the entryway and out to the main room. She had very little desire to dig her table out from under the mound of crap that always seemed to end up on it. “Will you tell me why?”

“Why what?” Fallon handed a plate over to Savannah and kept her own in her fingers.

Savannah debated whether or not to push any harder. She wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind to navigate a serious conversation with Fallon, not one that could end whatever relationship they had so far.

“Why do you think Brin is struggling?” Savannah asked at the last minute. She didn’t have the capacity to dig through Fallon’s trauma and her own tonight. She barely had the capacity to listen about Brinley’s current state, but that was the one she absolutely needed to hear.

Fallon flicked her gaze toward the living room and then back to Savannah. “It’s just small things that remind me of how I used to behave, things I used to say and do. She’s very inquisitive, but she’s asked me things like what certain words mean.”

“What words?”

“Cunt. Dyke.”

Savannah nodded her head slowly. “She’s never heard those before…” She trailed off. How was she supposed to say before Fallon entered her life and not make it seem like an attack? It wasn’t because Fallon was teaching that language to Brinley, it was definitely Forrest, but it was because of Fallon’s presence that the conversations were happening.

“Before me,” Fallon supplied.

“Yeah, before you. There wasn’t a reason for Forrest to be upset enough to use that kind of language around her.”

“So he’s upset because a confident woman is in his presence?”

Was that supposed to be a dig about Savannah’s lack of confidence? She tried not to take it that way, but it wasn’t working very well. That niggling voice was in the back of her head already, and it would be a monumental task to shut it up.

“He’s upset because I’m changing the rules,” Savannah chimed back. “He’s not usually this bad.”

“You just told me that you left him because of his bad behavior.”

“I did,” Savannah agreed, already regretting that decision. She should have kept her mouth shut, that much was obvious now. But for a brief window of time, she’d thought that Fallon would understand. “But he wasn’t like that with Brin.”

“Just with you?” Fallon raised an eyebrow. “It often starts that way and then spreads to everyone in the vicinity. Children often end up the unnamed victims of domestic violence.”

“My life isn’t your life!” Savannah’s voice was sharper than she intended it to be, but she was so damn tired. She could barely think straight with all the ideas swimming around in her head. “And don’t presume to know anything about my divorce and my marriage or my ex-husband’s relationship with his daughter when you’re barely in my life.”

What she wasn’t saying was that if Fallon wanted to be involved in those things, then she better start being involved in them. She better start deepening and forming those relationships. If this was just sex, as Fallon claimed it to be, then Fallon needed to keep her nose out of Savannah’s business.

“Fair,” Fallon responded. She set her plate onto the counter and crossed her arms, eyeing Savannah over. “Just know that I’m worried about her. That should be enough.”

Savannah nodded her agreement. She took her plate and went back out to the living room. Brinley, shockingly, was halfway through her plate of greens and fish, something Savannah had given up trying to make because Brinley turned her nose up at it every time.

Saying nothing about the food because she was afraid Brinley would suddenly stop eating, Savannah sat in the same place she’d been on the couch and curled her legs up under her body. She started eating, unsure if Fallon would follow her out or if she’d leave the apartment. Was Fallon even aware of the turmoil in Savannah’s mind right now? Or was she oblivious to it?

It took some time, but Fallon finally came out of the kitchen and sat next to Savannah on the couch, eating her dinner mostly in silence. The room wasn’t filled with tension, but it was filled with something. Savannah sat in the quiet trying to figure out what that something was. Angst? Anger? Frustration? Perhaps just a slap of reality for both of them.

They weren’t in a relationship.

They had made that very clear to each other from the beginning.

And while Savannah had originally said she didn’t want a relationship, she wasn’t sure the no-strings-attached, booty-call type of sex was something she was very good at. And perhaps not Fallon either because since when had their relationship only been about sex?

Shaking the thought from her head, Savannah relaxed, her toes touching Fallon’s thigh on the couch. Fallon reached down and covered Savannah’s feet, curling her fingers around them and holding on tightly. Maybe it wasn’t all in Savannah’s mind then. Maybe Fallon was struggling with their arrangement just as much as she was.

And if she hadn’t just had the blow to Conrad’s case at Athena’s office or the actual gumption to ask about going back to the drawing board with Forrest, she might have the wherewithal to try and have a conversation with Fallon. But exhaustion was winning out, and Savannah wasn’t going to fight it.

She was too damn tired.

Tired of being the only one still upright when every fucking wave of shit hit. Tired of being the one to hold everything together. Tired of being the voice of reason. She just wanted to either disappear and not have that weight of responsibility, or she wanted to fight with everything she had and make everyone do what she thought was right—since they were all going to ask her in the long run anyway.

“I’m going to bed, Mom.” Brinley stood in front of her.

Savannah blinked wildly, not sure when that had happened. The dishes were cleaned up, Brinley was in her pajamas, and the television had the sitcom rerun on that Savannah had been watching to fall asleep to every night. Fallon was still next to her on the couch, but she’d shifted farther away.

“Yeah, sure, baby.” Savannah opened her arms and captured Brinley in a hug. “Did you want me to tuck you in?”

“Nah.” Brinley grinned as she turned to Fallon and gave her a hug.

Fallon was somewhat awkward about it. Her shoulders were stiff and her arms were tense. She didn’t linger in the touch either. Savannah said nothing as Brinley walked toward her bedroom. Her chest tightened, to the point where it very nearly hurt.

“I should get going,” Fallon said, pulling herself to stand.

Savannah glanced at her phone, tapping the screen to make the time light up. Nine? When the hell had it become so late? Where had all the time gone? Fallon disappeared into the kitchen and came back with the bag she’d brought, the one that had been filled with the groceries.

“I’ll see you around,” Fallon said, her voice monotone in a way that Savannah hadn’t heard before. Was she just as tired as Savannah?

“Uh, yeah.” Savannah didn’t bother to stand up.

Fallon put her purse over her shoulder and nodded at Savannah. Her lips parted like she was going to say something, but then she stopped. Savannah wanted to know what those words were, the ones that died on Fallon’s tongue. Were they words of hope? Words of arousal? Words of anxiety, depression, and self-doubt?

No, those last ones were just Savannah’s thoughts.

Fallon wouldn’t say or think those things.

“See you,” Savannah finally said, giving Fallon the out she so clearly needed. She’d have to deal with that another day, when she had more brain energy and emotional capacity. And it would have to be soon, because sitting in this limbo of the unknown wasn’t something she liked to do. She’d done it long enough with Forrest because they’d been married and had a kid, but that was the only time she’d ever allow herself to be subjected to it again.

When the door clicked behind Fallon, Savannah sat in the silence—again.

This time, however, it was comforting. Savannah stayed there for another hour before she got up and locked the front door, snagged her phone, and called Kyla.

“Hey.”

“Sorry. I know it’s late,” Savannah said, settling back onto the couch. “I just needed to talk to you.”

“Okay. Is something wrong?”

“Maybe.” Savannah pulled herself together. She might not have been able to confront Fallon tonight, but she could at least get an answer from Kyla. “I need to know if you want me to pursue this case for Conrad. I can’t do it without some of your help, unfortunately.”

“Jesus,” Kyla mumbled. There was rustling around, blankets and fabric moving. “Let me get away from the kids.”

Savannah listened to the silence as Kyla moved through the house. She waited with as much patience as she had left in her body until Kyla finally said, “Tell me what’s involved.”

Relief rushed through Savannah. It wasn’t an immediate denial. And while that was still a strong possibility, the fact that Kyla was even listening to the idea was more than Savannah had hoped for. Savannah stretched her neck and started in on everything that Athena had told her so far. The case would be difficult to win, but they could settle it out of court. They needed information from Kyla, and they needed her support on the case.

It was close to midnight before Savannah and Kyla finally stopped talking. The phone was hot in Savannah’s hand, burning, and the battery was nearly dead, but she had an answer. She had at least one answer to the many questions that had been running through her mind that night. Closing her eyes, she curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket fully over her body.

She stared at the television screen, not really watching what was on it.

She had an answer.

She’d never thought she’d have that.

Kyla had told her yes.