Page 134 of Fauxmance

"Bullshit," Constance snapped.

I nearly clutched my non-existent pearls because did Constance Davenport, genteel southern lady, queen of the wedding world, seriously just curse?

"What was that?" I asked just to be sure.

"I said bullshit! He does love you. He's just being an idiot."

When I didn't respond, she looked at me and rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, it's not like you've never heard that word before," she said.

"True," I said. "But when you say it, it has more impact."

"Everything I do is impactful." She sniffed. "But that's beside the point. Are you going to try and patch things up with Hayden or not?"

I shook my head. "I can't make him love me back. We want different things."

Constance gave a long-suffering sigh and stood.

"Youth is wasted on the young," she declared. "It's such a tragedy. Walk me to the door will you?"

We walked together, and when I opened the door, Constance stopped and turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You want each other," she said. "My grandson just needs to come to his senses. And he will. You'll see, Magnolia. Don't give up on him."

"Thank you for coming, Constance," I said through a suddenly tight throat. "I wish you and your family nothing but the best. I really mean that."

Constance left without another word, placing her sunglasses back on and getting into an expensive-looking, sleek white car that was parked in the driveway. After she and her driver were gone, I stood there, not knowing if I should feel better or worse.

Don't give up on him, she'd said.

Oh, if only I could.

#

Two days later, I got another visit, but it wasn't from Constance Davenport.

Or the Davenport I couldn't stop thinking about.

The Little Spoonwas bustling with activity. Our creamy broccoli and cheddar soup was acrowd favorite, and it was on the menu today. Everyone seemed glad. There were a lot of smiling faces—but I felt like the odd woman out, simply going through the motions. I'd volunteered here long enough that everything was second nature, and despite how crappy I felt, I couldn’t skip out on this. It was important.

It was also one of my first times out of the house besides school (which I only forced myself to go to so I could graduate).

That was progress, I guess.

Santino walked through the door, and everyone did a double take. I couldn't blame them. The guy was good-looking, and he commanded attention. The tight jeans, cheetah print jacket and see-through black tee made it impossible not to look.

"Hey, M," he said, coming over to the counter. "Got a second?"

I looked to Izzy, and she smiled, shooing me away. "Go ahead, wouldn't want to keep the rockstar waiting."

"Thanks, love," he said and threw Izzy a wink.

She smirked. "I have a boyfriend."

"That's nice. For him."

"Well aren't you smooth."

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