Falling into a Second Chance (The Great Lovely Falls Book 6)

by Alie Garnett

  Was he lying about buying the book? Had he found it up in her studio after all? Had he seen everything in her private corner, a place nobody belonged? A place she kept her deepest secrets. Did he know them all?

  “Get out.” Fighting back the tears, she turned and walked toward the kitchen. It was snack time after all, and her daughter was hungry.

  He got up from the chair and followed her. “Excuse me? You’re kicking me out because I read to her? News flash, Agatha, you’re supposed to read to your kids!”

  “It’s not the damn book, it’s you. It’s me. Just get out now.” Agatha steeled herself against the pain as she turned to him, wishing he would just leave and get it over with.

  “No, I am not leaving. I love you, Agatha. I want to spend my life with you.” He said the words she had longed to hear since she was seven years old. Except they weren’t true. He didn’t even know her.

  Clenching her daughter to her, she glared at him. “Until when, Chris? Until your friends show up? Will I be good enough then? When your family knows about us? Why don’t you just leave now before anyone finds out about us. Save yourself the embarrassment of people thinking we’re a couple.”

  Glaring down at her, his nose flared as he asked, “What are you even talking about?”

  “You remember everyone, Chris! Everyone but me. Am I so forgettable? For ten years, your locker was beside mine. Ten years. Nine years later, you don’t even remember me!” she yelled as the baby started to cry. She knew she shouldn’t be yelling with Poppy in her arms, but she couldn’t control it anymore. “Remember, Chris? I’m good enough to fuck, but you would never date me. Seems to me that’s exactly what’s happening now.”

  There, she’d said it, but there was no relief at getting it off her chest. All she felt was hollow, gutted by what she knew he was thinking now. That being here was a mistake. Just like always.

  He ran his hands through his curly hair in frustration. “What?” Did he finally remember her? Or was she still a nobody? Both options tore at Agatha’s heart because she didn’t know which was worse.

  “You always forget me. I’m Agatha Christie Lovely, every day. For fucking ever. Now get out of my house. I will not let you read my books to my kid. Ever.” Brokenhearted and furious, Agatha turned and ran out the back door with Poppy still in her arms. Whether he followed or not, she didn’t know. Since he didn’t catch her, she knew he hadn’t. There was no way she could outrun him, especially with Poppy in her arms.

  Agatha was shaking so bad by the time she got to Sera’s house that she could barely open the door to the back porch. She couldn’t even make it into to the kitchen. Knocking didn’t gain her entrance either. Sitting in the corner of her mom’s back porch, Agatha cried as she tried to soothe the sobbing baby. She tried to tell her baby that it would be okay, that they would be okay. They didn’t need Daddy. They didn’t need anyone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Standing in the middle of Agatha Christie Lovely’s kitchen, Chris couldn’t think. How had he never seen it? Of course, the last time he had seen her, he had been hungover, but he had recognized her that night.

  When she had been stick-thin with wild hair, he recognized her because that was how she had looked and acted when they were in high school. But it had never been the real her. The real her was the woman in this house with the wicked sense of humor and quick wit. She was the amazing woman he wanted to spend his life with, but underneath it all was her prickly side, the side that she hid her real self behind. She had been hurt by him, time and time again. Hurt by the immature guy who thought that because he could run with a football, he was better than anyone else.

  She had been the first face he had seen when he had arrived at PS12 for the first time. She was carrying a plastic bag full of supplies that all the kids needed for the school year—just her and her bag, no mom or dad. When he saw her, he wished his own parents weren’t there; they were just fighting anyway. In class they had been assigned to sit together because their names, Lowell and Lovely, were close in the alphabet. She had long black hair and a red headband to hold it off her face. By the next week, she had been moved to a different table because she could already read. They never sat at the same table again that year because she was smart, and he was not.

  The next year, they were not in the same class at all. He only saw her on the playground. That year, all the kids liked to play a game called kiss or kill. It was like tag, but if you caught the person, you could choose to kiss them or kill them, aka knock them to the ground. That year he kissed her once and killed her fifteen times. Because she was a girl. By Christmas, she was no longer in his recess group, which had confused him, and he wondered what happened to her. He had never found out.

  In second grade, she wasn’t in his class or his recess, but he saw her in the hallway every now and again.

  When third grade rolled around, she was in his class again. When they were assigned seats together, he would watch her draw on any paper she could find. She drew almost anything, and you could always tell what it was. One day he told her that she was good at drawing, and she told him he was not. But they still sat at the same table, and sometimes she’d give him her drawings when she was done. That was also the year she had changed her name from Chrissy to Christie. He talked to her almost every day, and he had considered her his best friend that year.

  Fourth grade had been a bad year for their friendship. One day, he had been mad at his dad and had slammed open his locker and hit Christie in the face. Her head was bleeding, but she didn’t cry at first. She just looked at him in disbelief, then she cried. The teacher had taken her to the office, and she had been gone the rest of the day. When she had come back to school, she had worn a Band-Aid on her head for a week. After the Band-Aid had come off, he could still see the cut. He had scarred her. He had given her a card and tried to say hi to her every day, but that didn’t alleviate his guilt about hurting her.

  Sucking in a breath, Chris realized that the scar on her forehead wasn’t from her sister; it was from him. He had scarred her for life.

  In fifth grade, he said hi to her every day, and some days, she returned the greeting. He had almost asked her to a dance that year but had chickened out. She would never say yes to someone like him. Their lockers had been together again, and he accidentally hit her in the head with his locker fifteen times, but she was kind of short, and never once did he make her bleed.

  Sixth grade meant a new school, and he called her Christie like everyone else, no special nickname anymore. He started football and loved it. Again, he almost asked her to a dance, but he overheard her telling her friend she never went to dances, so he didn’t. She was one of the few to give out valentines, his said Christopher, which was not on the list, so she had made it special for him. He accidentally hit her in the head with his locker twelve times that year because she was very small still.

  In seventh grade, he couldn’t remember hitting her with his locker door at all, which was a bonus, but they shared none of the same classes that year. When she came back from summer vacation, she had short hair. It was cute but different. That was the year girls started to notice him, but not Christie. He received his last valentine from her that year, though he didn’t hand out any. It had a bunny she had drawn on it. He had kept it for years.

  When eighth grade came, he had girls chasing him, so he dated a few of them over the year. He still said hi to her whenever she said hi to him. It was the same until junior year, when they shared an empty locker, using it to store their coats. He smelled her perfume every time he put his coat on. Sometimes he worried that the guys would notice, but mostly he liked smelling her when he wore the jacket.

  Senior year, that’s when he really got to know Christie Lovely. In science class, she was snarky and admitted that science wasn’t her thing. That year she finally started going to parties and never cared what others thought of her. She was who she was, and if you don’t like her, too bad. She was far braver than he was.


  When he and his girlfriend broke up, he almost asked her out in science class but didn’t. He wasn’t her type. Not that he saw her dating anyone, but a brilliant artist wouldn’t have any interest in a jock.

  Then came the party right before graduation. She had asked him to dance. He decided to say “screw you” to his friends and all their snide remarks and danced with her. He had always wanted to dance with her. In his arms, she was as small as he had always thought she would be, small and perfect. She had rested her head on his shoulder, and it was like they were alone. He had even gotten up the nerve to kiss her. When the song ended, his friends dragged him away laughing.

  Later he had hid out from the guys in a bedroom upstairs because they wouldn’t leave him alone about dancing with Christie. They all thought that he had done it as a joke on her because they couldn’t see how he would be interested in her. After a while, he decided it was time to leave the party, but the moment he stepped out the door, he found her in the hallway, looking as lost and alone as he felt. Pulling her into that room had been as natural as dancing with her. Then he had kissed her and more, way more. Sex with Christie had been different then with girlfriend, Savannah, but it took years for him to realize why. It took until he found Agatha to know why. With Agatha, it wasn’t about him feeling good; it was about making her feel good. His orgasm took second place to hers for the first time in his life.

  After that night, all he could think about was dating Christie. He had even planned their first date. He’d take her for pizza and a walk along the river maybe that next Monday night. Without having her phone number, he had no way to contact her until school on Monday.

  But on Monday, he had been confronted by his friends the moment he had gotten to school, and he had messed up. When they demanded to know what had happened, he had played off their night together as nothing but sex. But that had just been for the guys; they didn’t need to know how special she was.

  When Jason had laughed and said Christie was behind him, his heart sank. He knew he had never messed up so much. Turning to see her face, Chris knew his words had hurt her as she was pale and nearly in tears. His eyes went to the scar still on her forehead, and his heart twisted at how his words and actions have caused her pain.

  Before he could say anything, she turned and left the school. She never came back, skipping the last week and graduation, where they would have sat side-by-side as they had since kindergarten. Without her, the day had been gloomy and lifeless. Or maybe that was because of the whiskey he had been drinking since that morning.

  He hadn’t seen her again until that party when he knew it was her. He had watched her serving food for an hour before he realized who she was. But he had waited until he was too drunk to do anything but fuck her. He didn’t even know if he said he was sorry that night.

  Now he had blown it once again by not recognizing her. They had spent over a month together, yet he’d ignored every little clue. She had never asked him about himself; she had already known. That first day, she had been prickly and distant because she remembered him and everything he had done to her.

  Chris wondered why she had changed her name. She must have always gone by her middle name in school. Picking up the moose book, he wondered why she had chosen to use the name she’d used in school for her books.

  Since he had moved in across the street from her, he had been drawn to her like he never had with anyone else. Something in him knew her and knew he could love her. Knew he would love her, but now she was gone. This time she hadn’t kicked him out of her house; she had left him in it. This was her safe place, and he had hurt her so bad that she had left.

  He had no idea how to convince her he had changed because it seemed he hadn’t. Every time they were together, he had hurt her a little more. And this time, what he had done was unforgivable.

  Chapter Thirty

  After Harrison had found her on his back porch with nothing but her daughter and in tears, the sisters had been shifting Agatha and Poppy from one house to the next. Not that Chris was ever getting close to finding her, but because each sister got tired of her pretty quickly.

  Within hours of her fight with Chris, she and Poppy were at Harper’s place since Kaine and Harper had the room for two extra people. But since Poppy had suddenly been uprooted from her home again, she was not happy and cried all night long. There had been nothing Agatha could do. She had been a mom for a week and was struggling with her own heartbreak.

  So the next day, she had been shifted to Lucy and Leo’s house, but with their six kids, she was ready to leave within the hour. There were too many people, even if they weren’t even all home at the same time.

  By nightfall, she had moved to Mabel and Cliff’s. They had stayed for two days. Poppy loved Cliff, which was no surprise; the man had a way with women. Mabel let Agatha do her thing, sometimes. It seemed since marriage and making a home with her new husband, Mabel had become more particular about everything having a place. And babies made more of a mess than she had been expecting. Not to mention that after months of being married, Mabel and Cliff were still very much in the honeymoon stage. Their constant affection made her remember the few short days she and Chris were happy, and it made her heart hurt worse.

  Today they had moved on to Buzz and Jonas’s place. It was her last refuge that wasn’t on the same street as Chris. Her emotions were frayed.

  Buzz was in her last week of pregnancy and was not excited about having house guests and did nothing to make them comfortable. Jonas tried, but his wife was a snarler, so he couldn’t do much either.

  Buzz was laid out on the couch, watching a show on buying wedding dresses, which caused her to either cry hysterically or yell curse words at the screen—there was no middle ground. Agatha was playing with a box of toys Jonas had found in the baby’s room for Poppy to play with.

  “How the fuck did you do this without anyone knowing?” Buzz demanded. Whether she was talking to the TV or her, Agatha didn’t know.

  Deciding to just let her sister yell, she handed a blue block to her dark-haired baby. After the first night of crying, Poppy had settled down and was accepting the changes in her life way better than her mom was. Agatha hated everything that was happening and wanted to go home, but she had to stay away from there until it was completely Chris-free again. However long that took.

  Not just home, but to a time when Chris liked her and loved their baby. Those days felt like her most happy memories. Not that their time together had been real, but it had felt like it, to her at least.

  “Earth to Agatha! Answer me!” Buzz was looking at her.

  “What?” she barked back.

  “How did you have a baby without us knowing?” Buzz repeated the question.

  “I didn’t think it was so hard. Maybe I had an easier pregnancy,” Agatha answered, not mentioning that her sister might be overdoing the complaining a little.

  Buzz flopped her head back on the couch. “Did it hurt?”

  “Did what hurt?”

  “Pushing a human out of your vagina!” Buzz yelled at the ceiling.

  “Yes.” Agatha didn’t elaborate.

  “Is that all you’re going to say about it?” Buzz demanded as she shifted to glare at her.

  Agatha finally snapped. “Yes, because you’re already yelling at me. Do I need to tell you it feels like your insides are coming out? Or that your body feels like it’s going to rip apart, and that it kind of does? Is that what you want to know? That the baby is a slimy, wiggling thing that they toss at you only to turn back to your vagina?!” Buzz was turning a little paler with Agatha’s words.

  “Not really what I wanted to hear, but I guess I deserved it,” Buzz admitted. “Maybe I just wanted to hear the ‘it’s worth it’ speech.”

  “It is.” Agatha sighed and hugged Poppy to her.

  “How did you give her up? I’m already so in love with Jonas’s spawn. I couldn’t.” Buzz sat up as she rubbed her stomach.

  “I thought that she would be b
etter off without me. I had been fired and hadn’t been able to find a new job for weeks. Even the Grog wouldn’t hire me anymore. I had submitted a book to a publisher but hadn’t heard back, which meant they didn’t like it. I had nothing and was going nowhere. I couldn’t take a kid down with me. I knew that.”

  “Mom would have raised her in a heartbeat,” Buzz stated the obvious.

  “I know she would have, but one day, she would have told Poppy that I was her mom. And then she would know that her mom was a loser who couldn’t make something of life. Then she would think that that failing was in her too, that she’s a loser like me.”

  “Is that what you think, Agatha? That you are a loser?”

  “I have always been the artsy weirdo, Buzz. Always.”

  “Agatha Christie Lovely, you are the most talented person I have ever met. We have all been just waiting for you to find your calling. It could have been anything! Everything you draw, paint, and even sketch is amazing. Art isn’t easy; we all know that. We let you do what you wanted because you had to find your way.”

  “I had no ambition,” Agatha said as Poppy crawled away from her.

  “Maybe not for bartending and waitressing, but every day you created art in your room. You never stopped, because that’s what you wanted to do. We were all shiftless for a while. Only Sera ever really had a plan for her life. Harper and Lucy struggled to start their catering business. Maby has never struggled, but she’s Maby. Me, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I married well, so I don’t have to.” Buzz laughed at herself.

  Agatha pointed to her stomach. “You’re going to be a mom.”

  “I am, but you already are, and you’re killing it. I hope I’m half as good as you are at it.” Buzz leaned back on the couch. “I worry about that.”

  “You are going to be so much better than me. I didn’t even know if I want to be a mom or could be a good one. Or if I’m just messing her up.”