Page 81 of The Confidant

“If she says yes, and the ring isn’t here yet,” I grunt and fall back into my chair.

“Special orders take time, Poe,” he reminds me for the hundredth time. “Could you not be a dramatic artist for five seconds? I need business Poe, not angsty Poe.”

“You’re lucky Addie likes you,” I glare back.

“I know,” he agrees wholeheartedly.

A gentle knock at the door interrupts us as a familiar face peers around the door.

Grace raises an eyebrow at me with a mocking smile.

“Can I come in?”

“No,” I glare.

She ignores me, like she always does, and steps inside.

“I picked up a little something for you,” she taunts me, holding something behind her back. “You’re lucky I stopped by your house before coming here. They left a note on the door for you to pick up a package. If Addie had seen it, your surprise would have gone to waste.”

That perks me up better than anything.

“It’s here?” I can’t help the anticipation in my voice.

“I’ll come back later when you can be rational,” Murphy sighs and exits as Grace pulls a package from behind her back with a wide grin.

“Poe, you need to take your time with this,” Grace starts another lecture as I round the desk and snatch the box out of her hands.

This is it. It’s here. My hands are shaking, making it hard to read the shipping address. I already know what it is.

Take my time? I ordered this ring the night Addie had her breakdown. I didn’t want to listen to Grace’s advice then, and I don’t want to now.

This is the missing piece to make us whole. She’ll have a glaring reminder that we’re in this together for the rest of our lives.

If she says yes.

“Later, Grace,” I absently mutter and hurry to get home.

“Why do I try?” I hear her grouse behind me.

Adelaide

I’m steady on my emotional feet again by the time Poe gets home. I’m cooking dinner for us. I catch the happy grin he gets when he sees me. I wonder if the pleasure of seeing me here will fade overtime.

That’s a little morbid. I shouldn’t think like that. It’s depression talking, not Adelaide.

Talking to Poe has helped a lot. I know now that keeping him in the dark on really painful subjects comes back to bite me. To me,thatwas the omen for my breakdown. Not letting Poe stand beside me for the fight I never saw coming. I won’t make that mistake again.

“I saw Asher today,” I admit while I stir the sauce for the pasta.

Poe stops. I don’t turn to see his expression. I can feel how tense my body has gotten. As if I’m reliving that moment of painful hope getting bitch slapped by reality. I hate this feeling.

When he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, I lean back into his chest.

His unwavering support holds me up as I tell him about the interaction.

“Did he notice the shop had closed?” Poe’s tone is forbidding.

“He thinks I’m remodeling. I’m not telling him any different. I don’t want to know what he’ll say about it.”

---