Page 155 of Real's Love

“Fine,” she relented, finally, shooting me an apologetic glance as she slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”

Braeden dropped a bill on table and mouthed, “Sorry.” I nodded.No way she’d be back. Bray knew to hold on whenever he got lucky. I watched them walk away, wondering what that was all about. I had just picked up my glass again when the door jingled again, and my stomach twisted at the sight of Tate Thibadeau.What the fuck was he doing here?I sat perfectly still, as if not moving could make me invisible. It didn’t work, of course. I noticed the moment he saw me. I rolled my eyes as he stepped off in my direction.

“Everly,” he said, his voice low and urgent as he reached me. “Your grandmother said I’d find you here.”

Damn, it just wasn’t Hy’s day or mine. I couldn’t believe Granny Nette sold me out. I hesitated, memories flooding back— especially that last one at that long ago dance.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Campaigning,” he said, sounding totally unconvincing.

I kissed my teeth. “I doubt that little Emancipation requires two campaign visits.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Campaigning… and trying to see you, Youngin’. Can we talk?”

“Tate, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please,” he begged, desperation etched across his features. “I need a minute. Just hear me out.”

I took a deep breath, torn between the past and the present. I glanced toward the exit, where Hyacinth had disappeared. “Alright. Just for a minute,” I said, motioning for him to sit.

He slid into the booth, and his next words immediately made me regret agreeing to this bullshit.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice softer now. “I know I messed up, and I can’t change that. But I’ve thought about you every day since...”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t change what happened,” I replied, crossing my arms defensively. The hurt from our breakup still stung a little, like a bruise that hadn’t fully healed.

“I know I hurt you, Youngin’,” he continued, leaning in.

“Stop calling me that,” I stopped him coldly.

His face fell, but he pressed on. “Everly. But I want you to know that I really loved you. You were so beautiful, so smart, so full of life. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I regret how I treated you.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, I was that girl again, the one who had fallen for him so hard. But then I remembered the way he had denied me in front of his friends, the way he’d made me feel so small.Montréal would never, I thought unexpectedly. But he wouldn’t. He wanted to take me places, show me things, even when I was fighting him every inch of the way.

“I’m glad you’ve realized that,” I said, my voice cool. “But I’ve moved on, Tate. I have no interest in revisiting that.”

He looked at me, frustration and regret mingling in his gaze. “I get it. But I just wanted you to know how I felt. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

I felt a sense of vindication wash over me. It was nice to hear him acknowledge the past, but it didn’t change the fact that we were no longer the same people. Actually, maybehewas. Still trying to please everyone. Still caught in a popularity contest. Still trying to live up… or maybe down, to someone else’s standards. I almost felt sorry for him, but I wasn’t that big of a person. Until he stopped worrying about what others thought, he’d live exactly how he deserved.

Then he shifted the conversation. “What about that guy from the carnival? Is he treating you right?”

The question caught me off guard. I thought of Real’s easy laughter, the way he made me feel seen and valued, not just tolerated. He was everything I had wanted for so long, and suddenly, I missed him with everything in me.

“He is,” I said, a smile creeping onto my face despite myself. “He respects me. He makes me feel like I matter.”

“Do you love him?” Tate asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question sent a jolt through me, and I had to pause.DidI love him?The answer bloomed in my chest, carrying more certainty than anything I had ever known. “I do,” I finally admitted. “I really do.”

Tate’s face fell, and I could see the realization sinking in. “I just wanted to see if there was a chance… but I guess I understand now.”

“Yeah, it’s time for me to move on completely,” I said, speaking more to myself than him. I felt lighter with each word. “I’m done with the past. Thank you for helping me realize that.”

He nodded slowly, and I decided to close this for good.

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