Page 57 of Somehow You Knew

“We’re supposed to find something together, remember?”

“Why does it matter? It’syourplace.”

The irritation on her face returns, but I’m doing everything I can to give her the control here. If I’m leaving five months from now, why should I have a say in decisions that will impact her later?

“Whatever.” Hazel huffs and stalks off toward the kitchenware.

I let her go and casually stroll around, trying not to let my anxiety get the best of me as I navigate the chaos.

Then something catches my eye.

When I pick it up, goosebumps spread over my skin.

For a moment, I debate if I should show this to Hazel, but as I see her assessing shelves of bakeware, I know without a doubt that she’ll treasure this long after I’m gone.

“Hey, wifey…”

She spins around at that, scowling. “Don’t call me that.”

Chuckling, I say, “Well now I definitely can’t stop because I know it irritates you.”

I hold up the wind chime so she can see it. “I think I found what we should buy.”

Hazel’s eyes grow wide and her lips part. “Oh my gosh…”

“My aunt had a million of these,” I say, trying not to let my own emotion show. But for some reason, I almost feel like seeing this was kismet.

“I know.” Hazel reaches out to stroke the stained glass hummingbirds and umbrella piece at the top holding it all together. “And it has hummingbirds…”

“Couldn’t be more perfect, right?”

Her gaze lifts to mine, and there’s a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s perfect.”

“All right then. Let’s pay for it and get out of here.”

Hazel follows me up to the register in silence. Even as Judy tries to make small talk while wrapping it up for us, she doesn’t say a word.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about this woman, it’s that shealwayshas something to say. Her silence is unnerving.

We walk to my bike, where I stash the wind chime in the side bag before turning to her. She’s gazing absently into the night sky.

“You okay, Spitfire?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmurs, but my gut knows better.

The entire drive home, I dwell on what could have happened to make the night shift. I mean, I know I was less than enthusiastic about finding something to take back to the apartment, but Hazel didn’t seem that put off by my suggestion. And up until that point, I thought we were having a good time. Dinner was fucking delicious, dressing each other up was surprisingly entertaining, and I thought I hit the jackpot on the perfect item to purchase in completion of our task.

Sowhat the fuck happened in the last fifteen minutes?

As I pull into the parking space at her complex, she practically jumps off the bike, tosses the helmet at me, and heads inside without waiting for me.

When I make it to the apartment, I find her in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine.

“What the hell is going on, Hazel?”

Her eyes meet mine and there’s a fire there that I’ve seen before. But something else is lurking there too—and I’m inclined to say it’s pain. That’s something I recognize all too well.

“Nothing,” she says curtly, replacing the cork before putting the bottle back in the fridge.

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