Page 63 of Every Chance After

I grab Grady’s hand and pull him gently into my office. I’m embarrassed at how drab it is—itreallyneeds more plants. I lean against the desk and offer him the chair. He doesn’t take it but stands front and center, arms folded and eyes fixed on me.

“So, I frustrate you?” I ask, smiling like always. “Was it my obsessive PBS watching or taste in music that finally did it, huh?”

His brow quirks, but his shoulders soften. Slightly.

“Marina, what are you doing here?”

“I work here now. It’s really… great,” I say, desperately holding onto my upbeat tone.

He huffs, runs a hand over his shorn head, and tries again. “You aren’t supposed to work anywhere for at least three more weeks. The doctor said?—”

“I’m on light duty, short shifts,” I chime in quickly. “I had cabin fever. Besides, I’m taking it easy. I spend most of the day sitting and wanted to get acclimated at my new job ASAP.”

His eyes narrow, analyzing me.

“I’mokay, Grady.”

“You’ve lost your fiancé, the job you loved, and you’re working at a fucking funeral home. You can’t possibly be okay.”

My smile retreats with his bluntness, and suddenly, our truth policy feels difficult to manage.

“We talk every day. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I manage a smile. “Tripp Grady Tripp, those shoulders are impressive but can’t carry everything.”

“When it comes to you, I’m a packhorse.” He edges closer. “Tell me what happened.”

I’ve wanted to tell him. To pepper our innocent convos withoh-by-the-waydrama bombs. To latch onto theoneperson forced to care and gobble up the comfort in those packhorse arms of his. Whenever he asked if I needed anything, I hesitated between wanting more from him and knowing how inconvenient and unfair it would be to ask. Still, my pesky longing grows with every word we manage to share and aches now that he’s here.I’ve missed him.

But allowing feelings for Grady is an unstable rock I can’t afford to jump to in my emotional rapids. It’s not right—exploiting his guilt for my comfort. It’ll only make him feel worse aboutthatday. How could I do that to him?

“Marina, truth,” he urges when I hesitate.

“Sounds like you’re caught up.” My arms fold over my chest. “What’s left to tell?”

He hooks my cane to the edge of the desk beside me, but refuses to break eye contact. “Ashe is no loss, but how could you lose your job over this?”

“I no longer metexpectations.” The words tumble out—me forgetting to use my top-notch, finely-meshed filter.

A fire sparks in his eyes. “Those motherfuckers said that?”

“Not exactly. What does it matter? Ashe and I are history, and Sunny’s didn’t feel so sunny for me anymore. Cora arranged this opportunity.”

“This isn’t an opportunity, Marina. This is a fucking joke. You don’t belong here any more than I belong in customer service.”

I chuckle, trying to imagine Grady forced to smile and chit-chat. “I understand your point, but I’m lucky to have this job.”

“How is this lucky?” He groans.

“I’m making nearly what I made at Sunny’s—that’s pretty good for someone without a degree,” I say, hating myself a little for it. “Other grocery stores and retailers like to hire managers from within, so getting another job like that would mean starting at minimum wage again. I can’t do that, Grady.”

“So, your years at Sunny’s mean nothing?” he asks like he doesn’t believe me.

“Notnothing.My experience matters. I took Sunny’s from mediocre to magnificent during my career there, and everyone knows it. But retail employers don’t equate experience monetarily when hiring someone new. That’s all. Until I find just the right opportunity, this isgreat.”

“There’s nothinggreatabout this. You deserve better.”

I smile at his kindness. “Better will come along. Eventually.”

---