Page 30 of Say You Will

I’ll take it as a compliment it hasn’t occurred to Dad that she could . . . did . . . refuse my proposal. “I know she requires romance and emotional investment. I’ve decided to amend my approach to accommodate her needs.”

“Hmmm. But you’re not in love?” A breeze ruffles his steel gray hair as Dad watches me intently.

I shake my head.

“It would be best to tell her you changed your mind and avoid any hint of the two of you being near each other. Stay away from the house while she’s here. Go out with a few other women in the next couple of weeks.”

“I’m not going out with someone else.”Has he paid no attention to a word I’m saying?“It’s Franki or no one.” I rise, energy crackling through me.

If I can’t win her over, I lose those shares, but I refuse to look for another prospect. Failure isn’t an option. I recognize the illogical nature of the choice, even as instinct compels me to make it.

I’ll keep my cake and eat it too. The thought immediately segues into a sexually charged picture in my mind. Panties. Or more accurately, what those panties would look like on Franki’s body if I pulled them to the side and—What the hell is wrong with me?!

I move to the edge of the patio and reach for the fidget spinner in my pocket. When I don’t encounter plastic, I pull up short in surprise. Beneath my fingertips, something unfamiliar, silkysmooth, yet textured, teases the corner of my mind.What the f—?

I draw the item out and stare. Franki’s panties. As if I conjured them from my thoughts alone.

“Are congratulations in order, then?”

I hastily return my ill-gotten booty to my pocket and turn back to my father. “She rejected my proposal.”

Dad’s eyebrows lift. “Did she now? Good for her.”

I scowl.

“Don’t be offended. She made the right choice for both of you. The last thing either of you needs is an arrangement lacking love. I’ve had the type of marriage you’re talking about, and it’s hell.”

“Your marriage now is happy?” There’s that word Grandmother used.

Dad smiles. “Yes. I love Charlotte and she loves me.”

“I need Franki to be happy.”

Dad smooths a hand over his hair. “You really want this woman? Her, specifically?”

“She’s nota woman,” I say. “She’s Franki.”

Dad grins. “First word of advice: don’t tell her that.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“I know what you mean by it, but you can find a better way to make her feel special that isn’t also an insult.”

Dad gets up and wanders to the short wall. He lowers himself to pluck a stray red maple leaf from the stone, then straightens. “I’m worried about her. You picked an innocent ball of sunshine. Franki is delicate.”

“You think she’s weak.” Disbelief laces my words.

“She’s fragile.”

“Franki Lennox is the most resilient person I’ve ever met. She lives with pain every day of her life and still manages to care about other people’s problems. She has a shitty family, and despite that, has goals, the capacity for humor, and, mostremarkable of all, gentleness. She doesn’t break under pressure because she knows when and how to bend. Just because she isn’t hard doesn’t mean she isn’t strong.”

Dad nods, and I see the gleam in his eyes. He baited me deliberately to see if I’d come to her defense. His lips quirk, and he delivers his next words as if they’re a closing argument in a trial. “You waited for Franki your whole life. Your list of requirements for a wife were nothing more than her description, you want to make her happy, and you just professed your admiration of her character.”

Dad shakes his head. “You love her. Otherwise, what’s the point of any of it?”

I try to explain. “I used to feel things. It was torment. The faces of the victims from our missions haunted me. My brain buzzed with a constant onslaught of suffering. When it was over, I continued to hear the screams. I experienced guilt for not getting there fast enough. Not finding everyone. Not being enough.

“And itshoulddisturb me. That’s part of being human, to flinch at the pain of other humans. But I closed that part of myself off. I robbed it of oxygen until it died. Now, I feel nothing when I’m in the middle of it and nothing when it’s over. I do what’s necessary. That’s it.”

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