Page 1 of Bumping into You

Chapter 1

Gwen

“Will you just stop and sit for a minute?” Bradley walks toward my office desk. “We need to talk.”

I look up from my checklist, then return to counting the vases for the centerpieces. “I’ve told you about this event and how particular these clients are. Can’t you give me like thirty minutes first?”

Bradley lets out a heavy sigh before mumbling, “I’ve given you more than that for the last two years.”

I whip around to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I question.

Shaking his head, Bradley stands and puts his hands in his jean pockets. “It means I’m done waiting, Gwen. I think it’s past time for us to break up.”

“What?” I sputter. “What are you saying?” My legs go weak, and I grab hold of the chair closest to me to help steady myself.

I picture the wedding vision board I had created for us. We had been talking about wedding plans for months, and I had thought he was about to propose. The board is filled with all of our favorite things and little memories of our relationship over the past two years. There’s his parents’ church where his parents always dreamed of him getting married, roses of all colors as they’re my favorite flower, a cake made by my best friend Holly because there is no one else I’d rather have make my wedding cake, a beautiful wedding dress that would be perfect for a church wedding, and so much more. Everything is on it, down to the color of the invitations and tablecloths.

I never doubted that one day we’d get married. We’ve been together long enough and even moved in with each other six months ago. Marriage is the natural next step for us. Why is he wanting to break up out of the blue?

“You’re a beautiful person, and I loved you,” Bradley continues, “but I can’t keep being second. We were supposed to be a team, partners, but all you care about, all you talk about anymore is this business.”

“How long have you felt this way?” I ask, heat rising in my cheeks. “How long have you been planning to break up with me?”

“A few months now,” he admits. “Not to break up. That’s been more recent, but a few months of giving you a chance to make us a priority.”

“You gave me a few months to make us a priority, and you didn’t have the decency to communicate this with me?” My lips pinch together as I shake my head. “How can I fix something I don’t even know is broken, or breaking?” My shock morphs into anger. “I started Whimsy and Wonder Events by Gwen from scratch, Bradley. This business is my baby. I can’t just abandon it. What do you expect me to do? If I fail, this business fails. Then where does that put us?” I stare at him, my brows raised in question and my heart racing at the implications.

“That’s not the point, Gwen,” he says, his voice cracking as he avoids eye contact with me. “You gave up on us when you put this business first. We could have been a team, but it was always about you, your business, your future. It was never about us. When was there supposed to be time for us?”

“Okay, I get it. You’ve made it clear you hate my job.”

“No, Gwen, I don’t hate your job. In fact, I’ve always been supportive of you and your business. I was even proud of you, but I hate the woman you’ve become. You’re not the same Gwen I started dating. I’m fed up with being second to your work. I’mtired of you running out at all hours to fix this emergency or meet with a new client. How many times did you leave our dates early with some work excuse? How many times did you cancel our plans only to never reschedule them?”

“Well, you always said you were okay and you understood,” I reply, heartbroken and confused. “That you’d always support my career choice.”

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you how I was feeling, Gwen.” He turns his body away from me. “I was too embarrassed to admit that you cared more about your job than about me.”

“That’s not true. I cared about you a lot,” I snap back.

“Really? Then tell me, what did we do for our two-year anniversary? Hmm?”

“I . . .” I scramble through my brain trying to recall. “You went to go visit your parents. You told me your parents needed help with some house project.”

“Yeah, I made up that story because every time I suggested some way to celebrate, you had something else going on. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to tell you it broke my heart?”

“You were supposed to communicate with me.”

“Gwen, you scheduled a three-day wedding over our anniversary weekend and were so excited because of the exposure this would get your business. I made up the story about my parents needing help with a project so you wouldn’t feel bad. But did you ever try and make it up? No, you never said a damn thing, and that was it for me. I stopped caring, stopped trying. And now here we are.” Sighing, he turned to me. “Yes, I kept things from you, and I feel bad about it and want to come clean. But a lot of this is on you. I sank down to that level because you made me feel less than. You stopped being fun; you stopped trying to be anus. I didn’t need a pretty face, a roommate. I needed a companion. We just aren’t right for each other.”

“You don’t just get to decide this for us both. You finally open up to me, and it’s to tell me it’s over. The past two years are just done, finished, no chance to work on it together? I can’t believe you’re so self-centered that you’ve made this all about you,” I bite out, hurt that he’s ending our two-year relationship over me being a little busy.

His head snaps up at my statement, hurt emanating from his eyes. The sight gives me pause.

“Bye, Gwen,” he says as he backs away slowly. “I’ll have my things moved out by the end of this weekend.” Then he turns to leave.

“But . . . wait, Bradley . . . I didn’t mean . . .” I trail off as he looks back at me, his eyes full of sorrow, before shaking his head and walking out the door.

The weight of what just happened hits me, and I collapse into a chair. Two years of my life gone, wasted on someone who couldn’t even bring himself to communicate his feelings with me. I could have adjusted things. I could have fixed it.

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