Can't Help Falling (Sweater Weather, #3)

by Courtney Walsh

I stay home and read. A lot. Pajamas > Party.

Fictional men are always better than the real ones. Always. Probably because they’re written by women.

I like who I am. I like spending my time the way I want to spend my time. I like my pajamas and my books.

“Oh, I just needed a minute.” I think I’m going to need more than that, like maybe a box of wine and a therapist.

He’s always been this kind. People just don’t bother to look long enough to see it.

I poured things into that journal that helped me sort things out in my head. Long, run-on sentences, rife with misspelled words and scratched out phrases. Haphazard thoughts that would never be judged, or graded, or seen, but somehow calmed my racing mind.

People still read newspapers. It’s true.

My mom’s always had an open kitchen policy, meaning, her dining table always has room for one more chair. She has a gift for hospitality, and she loves to entertain. But she isn’t fussy about it. Her mantra is, “Come as you are, and there will be food.”

As I talk, Emmy stays busy, but not the kind of busy where it’s obvious she’s not listening, like scrolling on her phone or something. The kind that lets me talk without feeling like I’m being watched or studied or judged.

If people tell you something often enough, especially people in authority, you start to believe it. You’re not smart. You make bad choices. You’re not living up to your potential. That’s what he’s been told his whole life, by pretty much everyone with varying degrees of tact.

Outside, it’s starting to smell like autumn. Not the start of autumn, but the whole of the season. Crunchy leaves and mountain air. My favorite season. I take a moment and draw in a chilly breath. It fills me up and when I exhale, there’s a cloud from my warm exhale mixing with the cool air.

“Honey, he is speaking my language. Being thoughtful. Doing things that will show me he loves me. It doesn’t matter what the gesture is, if the intent behind it is to show someone you care, then it can be romantic.”