Page 112 of Always Knew It Was You

Eventually, Carly stops crying, mostly because she falls asleep in my arms. I let her rest there for as long as I can and then carry her into bed, laying down with her cradled against my chest.

At a point, I think of maybe returning to pack up the food but, honestly, screw the food. I don’t want to leave her, not even for a second.

Yeah, buddy. You’re definitely in love.

Now the question is, what the hell am I going to do about it?

I think about my newfound feelings for Carly most of the day. Not that I have a choice, because it pushes itself into my mind when I least expect it. She pushes herself in. When I’m with Declan having a meeting about hotel tiles, I think about what tiles Carly would want for our potential future home. Or when I’m with Hal fixing pipes. Suddenly I think about how much I’d like to fix her pipe. Or when I’m laughing at lunch with Shoreton and Roger, I think of Carly laughing too.

Except she wasn’t laughing much this morning.

Carly was still melancholic but she seemed to be making an attempt to cheer herself up, even cracking a few jokes at breakfast. I let her know that she didn’t have to pretend to be happy on my behalf. And if she ever wanted to talk about it, I’m here to listen.

She nodded and gave me a watery smile.

In the meantime, I also think about what I can do to make her happy. Maybe an impromptu trip to Paris after her exams are over? Or something more low-key, like attending Fashion Week together?

What would she want?

I’m on the brink of asking Emma for help when, while advising Hal on how to install the pipes, my phone rings.

It’s my father.

I sigh. Of course, he would be calling at a time like this. I don’t have time for him to destroy my mood today, so I ignore the call, regarding Hal who seems sweatier than usual.

“You okay, buddy?” I ask.

He glances at me. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s just a little hot, isn’t it?”

I raise an eyebrow. It was pretty even temp. Declan already warned me that he never takes off his jacket, even when he’s hot, so I know not to ask.

Still, I can’t resist. “That’s maybe because you’re wearing all those layers. It’s not that cold.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Right.”

I shake my head and the phone rings again. I sigh and take it out of my pocket and then realize it’s my grandfather this time.

I also don’t want to talk to him, but I figure I should.

“Hey, Gramps.”

“Micah,” he said. “Where are you?”

“Laketown,” he said. “I’ve been exiled here, remember?”

Except it’s no longer feeling much like an exile. Maybe like a semi-weird vacation that had nudists and old ladies doing yoga in the church parking lot, one of whom was incredibly well-armed.

‘“I would like you to come to New York,” he says. “With your fiancée.”

“You mean Carly?” I frown. “Why?”

Grandpa sighs. “It occurs to me that maybe I was a bit harsh and hasty with her. And I didn’t give her a fair chance with that first impression. I mean it was clear that she defended you so vehemently because she loved you.”

I frown. “Right.” What’s going on? The old man is being far too reasonable right now.

“And it’s clear you care about her as well,” he says. “Which is why you’ve rejected every attempt for me to set you up with another. In any case, affection like that is rare, and seeing how your parents’ relationship ended up... maybe I was wrong. Maybe I want better for you.”

I’m stunned for a few seconds. I don’t know what to say genuinely because this is very unusual for my grandfather to, first of all admit that he was wrong, and then second to go back on his staunch belief.

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