Page 109 of Strictly Pretend

“And to grovel,” Rita says, putting her hand into her purse to grab her phone.

“Yes, and to grovel.”

She beams at me. “Okay then.” She slides her finger across the screen of her phone then types something into it, before lifting the phone to her ear.

“Emma, honey?” she says, her narrow eyes still on me. “There’s a special delivery for you from assholes-r-us. You want me to send it back?”

EMMA

I put the phone down and look at Granddad. He’s sitting up in bed with monitors fixed to his gray-haired chest. His skin is pink, he’s lucid, and he’s lifting a brow at me.

“Was that Rita?” he asks.

“Yes.” I nod. “Brooks Salinger is here.”

Granddad frowns. “Your Brooks? Here at the hospital? I thought he was with his family.”

“He was.” I look down at all the missed calls and messages from him. “But apparently he got a helicopter to get him here to see if you’re okay.”

Granddad smiles. “I think we both know he’s not here for me. So why are you still here? Why don’t you go see him?”

“I don’t want to leave you,” I tell him.

“You’re going to have to eventually. You gotta eat, you gotta poop, you gotta sleep.” He winks at me. “And so do I. I might be old, but I still have some dignity.”

“You have all the dignity, Granddad.”

“And so do you, sweetheart. So are you going to listen to what he has to say or am I going to have to knock your heads together?” His expression softens. “I promise I’ll still be herewhen you get back. I don’t plan on leaving this mortal coil just yet.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“I’m sure. Just go.”

I still hesitate, and he looks me straight in the eye. “Do you know what I’d do for one more minute with your grandma?” he asks me. “For one more second. For the chance to hear her voice, to see her laugh. To smell the way she always used to smell?”

My throat thickens. “I do,” I tell him. Because I’d do anything for that too.

“You love this man, don’t you?”

I nod because it’s the truth. “I think I do.”

“Then go see him. Listen to him.” He lifts a brow. “Talk to him. Like really talk, Emma. Don’t just bottle things up or think you have to deal with it all yourself. That’s what you always do and it’s wrong.”

I know he’s talking about the contract and the lease. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you any warning,” I tell him. “I should have. I just thought I had it all under control.”

“By agreeing to a fake engagement?” he says, shaking his head.

“It wasn’t supposed to be an engagement,” I protest. “It was a fake date. And we were going to look at a new unit in return.” I give him an apologetic look. “But I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should. And now you should go talk to him. Love isn’t just about all those starry eyed mushy things, as great as they are. Love is climbing into the trenches and working your damn ass off with the other person. It’s disagreeing and arguing and then making up because at the end of the day they’re the only person you want to be with.” He reaches for my hand, squeezing it softly. “This man just flew in a helicopter to see you. I get the feeling he’d make a very good trench partner.”

A tear rolls down my face. Not just because I’m thinking of Grandma, and of my parents, and everything I’ve lost.

But because I know I have a choice. I have to open myself up and it’s going to hurt like a bitch. It’s so much easier to feel safe when you’ve built a wall around your heart.

“I love you,” I whisper to him.

“I love you, Emma girl.” He lifts my hand to his lips. “Now go talk to him.”

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