Read The Fable of Us for Free Online

that had remained unanswered for years.
    My hands wrung in my lap, my legs bounced out of control, and my teeth chewed out the excess adrenaline on my lower lip.
    Out of nowhere, Boone’s hand appeared in my lap, weaving between mine until he had one in his grasp. His large hand swallowed mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It will be okay, Clara. They can’t ruin your life twice.”
    Something inside me stilled. Boone’s hand was still rough and dotted with callouses. It was still warm and solid though, anchoring me before I drifted away.
    “That won’t stop them from trying,” I whispered as I could just start to make out the large plantation house in the distance.
    Boone’s jaw tightened. “Well, I won’t let them ruin my life twice.”
    “It won’t stop them from trying.”
    As we continued to wind up the driveway, the driver gave a low whistle. “This your home, miss?”
    “No, this isn’t my home,” I answered. “This is my family’s home. Not mine.”
    “This is some place,” the driver continued. “Your family must be real well off.”
    I closed my eyes when the house came into full view. Too much, too fast. Boone beside me, that house in front of me, all of the family waiting to lash out in their passive-aggressive way. Why had I come?
    “If only by their bank accounts’ standards,” I said as I retrieved my purse from the floorboard and got back to digging through it madly, desperate for a mint and a means of distraction.
    “Here.” Boone’s other hand reached across our laps. In it was a white round mint.
    I froze for two moments, that chalky alabaster mint bringing on another enclave of memories. These ones though, they were good. All of them.
    “Thank you.” I took the mint and popped it into my mouth. It wasn’t mint-flavored; it was cinnamon, spicy and hot just like I remembered. With one little mint, I was whisked back to the past: to a first kiss, to the first real kiss, to the first time I’d ever . . .
    “Fuck me.” Boone whistled as we rolled to a stop in front of the house.
    “What?” I asked, getting jettisoned from the past into the present. I preferred the other option.
    “How many people are staying the week with your parents?” He craned his head out the window, focusing on something off in the distance.
    “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Both of my sisters obviously, probably my mom’s parents, and maybe Aunt May, but there shouldn’t be that many. That’s what hotels are for.” I was wringing the hell out of my purse straps, wishing I’d drained another shot or two, because from the feel of it, the adrenaline and nerves had burned it all up in the drive here.
    “You better do a recount, Miss Abbott, because from the looks of the cars I can see parked around the carriage house, your place has become the Hotel Grand Charleston.” Boone pointed out the window, but I couldn’t see. Or maybe didn’t want to see.
    The thought of dozens of family members and strangers ambling around the estate made this trip even more intolerable. The house lacked no number of rooms, but it lacked in other things. Notions like privacy, which I would need if this plan with Boone was going to fly. With dozens of people wandering the estate, that meant Boone and I would have to act the part of the loving couple around the clock, no slip-ups.
    Even when we’d been together, for real together, we hadn’t been capable of that. How in the hell were we going to manage it now?
    “You sure you want to do this?” Boone’s hand dropped to the door handle, looking just as ready to open it as keep it sealed shut.
    I made myself look at the house. The one I’d grown up in for eighteen years until fleeing it like the devil was chasing me. I’d been back three times since, always fleeing in much the same way. Why did I keep coming back? Why did I continue to put myself through this? Oh yeah . . .
    “I don’t have a choice, Boone. You of all people should remember that.”
    His