Page 87 of Marry Me

“Now you’re talking.”

Allison led the way, making sure to look both directions in case imaginary eyes were on them. She located an unopened bottle of dolcetto from a vineyard she’d not heard of before and did the honor of popping the cork. She’d always enjoyed one-on-one time with her mom, and with her father closing at the store that night, she had her all to herself.

“I hear Brent is much more himself these days.”

Allison nodded. “He’s back at work and on the mend. No more physical therapy, but he has to take it easy or he gets sore.” As shocking as it was, he had been a huge source of support for her when it felt like the world had dropped out beneath her feet. He’d been her friend in a dark time, and given the way she’d hurt him, it had been a surprising turn of events.

“Do you think he’s still hoping for something more?” Her mother said it so casually as she turned her wineglass in her hand. But her eyes danced with hope.

Ally sighed and reflected back on the past week.

“You’re here. My day can begin,” he’d said the last time she’d swung by. They’d watched a reality singing competition and rooted for different contestants over delivery pizza, ham and pineapple on her side, every topping on the planet on his. Earlier in the week, he’d also been a little flirtatious, complimenting her jeans and how her smile always took over a room. He’d held her gaze when he said it, unwavering. She couldn’t deny that spending time with Brent was comfortable, easy, and nonthreatening. Three things she needed about now. It would be easy just to slip back into that rhythm. Hide out in the familiar.

“He might be.”

“And what are your thoughts? I imagine you’re still not ready for anything romantic.”

She wasn’t. She couldn’t imagine it. And yet, she seemed to seek out his company, the shelter it provided. Was it fair to him to just go along with it? Because she could only imagine that the more time they spent together, especially in the midst of her new single status, the morehe would hope, wonder, expect. She’d shelved the notion because she simply wasn’t equipped. She took another sip of wine, already feeling it working, unwinding her thoughts.

“I think I don’t have a clue what I want.”

“Then just float along for now, okay?”

She loved that advice.

* * *

“Dad’s talking about throwing in the towel on the shop. He said so yesterday,” Betsy told her over milkshakes, an outing Allison had suggested to reconnect with her sister. She’d forgotten Betsy didn’t indulge and had waited for her to pore over calorie counts on any and all flavors, finally opting for the bland sugar-free stuff at the end of the display case. Allison, having no shame, had gone for the double chocolate spun shake with extra whipped cream.

“I was worried it would come to that.”

“I keep hoping now that you and Brent are on better terms that there might be hope for the BeLeaf deal to come through. If it did, I have a feeling it would open so many other doors for them. They’d have a proven success story to take to other buyers and distributors. They’d have a real shot.”

Allison sighed, hating being the one stuck in the middle. “I think it’s time for me to say something to Brent.”

Betsy’s entire face transformed. “I know it’s not a likely scenario anymore, given the changes in your relationship status, but it couldn’t hurt, right?”

“No.”

“And you’ve been there for him, Ally, every step of the way.”

“I’ve tried to be.”

Her sister went quiet. “I know that I wasn’t the most supportive of your relationship with Megan Kinkaid.” Hearing her name spoken out loud still hurt in a manner she was never quite prepared for. She’d never felt pain that manifested itself both mentally and physically, but she felt it all over, and it showed no signs of dulling. She missed Megan with everything she had in her, but the ending of that relationship had done more than hurt her. It had taken a little part of her away, the partthat leaped at life, that moved through the world without fear. She was different now and didn’t like that about herself. At the same time, it felt safer. “But I can tell that the breakup really did a number on you, and no big sister likes to see that.”

“Thanks, Bets.” She shrugged, trying to avoid delving too deeply into the topic. Self-preservation and all. Her face felt heavy, and the corners of her mouth pulled down, which meant she needed to do something to snap herself out of this. “But I’ve been doing okay. Going for walks.”

“My friend Angela saw you and Brent at dinner. Anything there?” She held out a hand. “Not that I’m applying any pressure. Lesson learned.”

“I don’t mind you asking.” She shrugged. “We’re just living life. Being us, but no, nothing romantic has happened. I honestly don’t know where his head is on the topic, but mine is far from anything like that.” The idea of moving on after Megan was a no-go. How would anything else compare?

“But you’re not ruling it out?”

“Betsy. I’m tired. I’m banged up.” She shook her head. “And I’m just looking for a break from any and all trauma.”

“Hear me out, and then I’ll shut up.” She made a zipper gesture across her lips. “I know you’re confused and hurt and searching. But keep in mind that Brent Carmichael can offer that and a lot more. Just don’t forget.” She waved a hand. “That’s all I’m saying. I know him, and he would never abandon you. Who knows? Maybe this whole journey was just meant to reassure you that you were where you were supposed to be all along. What is it they say? There’s no place like home?” She pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key, dusting off her hands to complete the sentiment.

She nodded, half of her rejecting everything Betsy had said, and the other half finding the idea of safety a comfort. Brent would take care of her. No, her happiness level wouldn’t be anywhere close to when she and Megan had been together, but the resulting hurt was maybe a good argument to avoid those kind of extremes. Safe and in the middle lane wasn’t sounding so bad. How in the world did she wind up in partial agreement with Betsy of all people? Her life was becoming less and less recognizable.

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