Page 53 of Bumping into You

“We find a way to make it work,” says Gwen, giving my arm alight squeeze.

I lean over and give Gwen a light kiss on the cheek. “That we do.”

“So then how did ya’ll meet?” asks Tammy. “Bradley and I met at an after-hours work function. Started talking and hit it off right from the beginning.”

Bradley smiles at Tammy and takes her hand.

“We actually met through her brother, Greg,” I answer. “I went to college with Greg and Trent in Boston.”

“Greg and Trent are good guys,” says Bradley.

“They are,” I agree.

Gwen motions to our plates. “Well, looks like we are all done. We should hurry up and get ready so we can meet up with the others for our excursion.”

“See you around,” says Bradley before taking a bite of his biscuit.

As Gwen and I leave, I think about how amazingly Gwen handled that late breakfast with Tammy and Bradley. I can’t be sure, but maybe she’s finally getting over him. Or starting to feel more like herself, like Greg wanted for her. She does seem lighter, happier since the first day on the cruise ship.

After a quick shower, I pull on my swim trunks and shirt, brush my fingers through my hair, then slide on sandals. Glancing around the room, I go to pick up my sunglasses, bandana, and frozen water bottle before heading over to Gwen’s room.

Seeing me coming around the balcony, she waves me in.

“Give me just a moment. I can’t find my sunglasses,” she says, as I close the balcony door behind me.

“I’ll help you look,” I say.

“Thank you. I feel so scattered. Normally, I’m on top of everything, but somehow everything I laid out last night has gotup and walked away.”

I survey the room, and when my eyes land on Gwen, a smile breaks out across my face. “Ah, here they are,” I say, stepping over to her and plucking the sunglasses off the top of her head.

“What? How did I not notice? I’ve seriously been looking all over for them!”

I hand them over to her, and she clips them to the front of her dress.

Taking her arms in my hands, I gently turn her toward me. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Deflating a little, she sighs. “I’ve been a little off-kilter since we got back from yoga and breakfast.”

“Want to talk about it?” I ask, pulling her into a hug. She doesn’t stiffen this time, and I continue, “I’m always here for you.”

She nods, then shakes her head. “Yes and no. I guess I’m having a difficult time processing, well . . . everything. And I don’t want to burden you with my emotions. That wasn’t part of our dating agreement.”

“Gwen, I hope that through all of this, you consider me a friend. I mean, we are fake dating and everything,” I tease. “But as your fake boyfriend, I want you to know that I’m here for you. Whether it’s fake-dating charades or heart-to-heart conversations. If you need someone to unburden yourself to, I’m your man.”

“Thank you,” she whispers into my embrace. “It’s just that I’m realizing that Bradley might not be entirely at fault for our breakup. It’s hard to admit, because since the breakup I’ve blamed him, and I haven’t let myself see the part I played in our relationship ending. I’ve thrown myself into my work, trying to prove to Bradley that I had to spend so much time on my business so that it could be successful. But now that it is doing really well, I’m realizing that there was some truth to him sayingI make work too much of a priority.”

“That’s good that you’re recognizing it, right?”

Gwen shrugs and continues, “And being on this cruise with everyone, it’s become obvious that I need to pull back from work, dedicate more time to my friends and family, to my personal life. I need to focus on what is most important: the people I care about. Work will always be there, but I don’t want to wake up one day and not have my friends and family. I don’t want to be that person who just goes to work, comes home to sleep, and then rinse and repeat over and over.”

I hold her tight, her words like a punch to the gut. It’s exactly what I’ve been doing the past twelve months since my mam’s passing. The realization is shocking. We’ve both gone through two major life changes, and each of us has handled it in similar but different ways.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks.

“Of course I am,” I say.

“It’s just,” Gwen says softly, “I can see the look on your face when you go off into your memories. It can’t be easy being around our families when you’ve lost yours.”

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