Page 7 of Somehow You Knew

“I’m not meant to have what you two have, what Penn found with Astrid or what Parker found with Cashlynn.”

“Hazelnut—” Dallas starts, but I hold up my hand.

“Nope. I’m serious. I’m just gonna be the fun aunt,” I say as I hoist my jeans up higher on my waist and smooth down my top, faking a smile. “I’m gonna thrive in my business and take myself on vacation.” Dallas’s eyebrows draw closer together. “Toys were invented for a reason, right? So I don’t need a man for pleasure…”

“For the love of God, please stop,” my brother begs.

Willow giggles. “Hazel, I know you’re feeling discouraged, honey. But do you honestly think swearing off love is the right decision?”

“Nope.” I straighten my spine. “I can’t bear the thought of putting myself through another date like that.”

Not without Dad here to pick me back up. Not without knowing that he still believes.

Because when he died, I think my hope diedwith him.

Michael starts to cry again, signaling that it’s time for me to go.

“I love you both very much,” I say as I bend down and kiss Willow’s forehead and then my nephew’s. “And I couldn’t be happier for you. You did good,” I say as I smooth Michael’s jet-black wisps of hair.

“We love you too,” Willow says with a soft smile.

“I’ll come over later this week once you’re all settled. Let me know what you want for dinner, and I’ll make it. And as soon as my nephew starts to have favorites, let me know so I can spoil the crap out of him.”

There’s concern in Willow’s eyes as she watches me move toward the door. “Are you gonna be okay, Hazel?”

I plaster on the best smile I can muster. “I’ll be fine. This is just how things were meant to be,” I say with a shrug and then blow a kiss to my brother. “Take care of your family, big brother. You’re one lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

“Be careful, Hazelnut,” he says as I step into the hall.

I can feel the tears just behind my eyes.

But they don’t come.

Because I meant what I said in that room.

I’m done.

Being a hopeless romantic doesn’t guarantee you love. In fact, it just might mean the opposite.

And for the first time in my life, I think I’m finally accepting that love just isn’t meant for me.

***

“Do you need anything else before I go?” I ask as I pack up my camera bag.

Diane settles into her rocker, adjusting the oxygen tubes on her face. “No, dear. But you know you can’t leave without having a cup of tea.” She gestures toward the couch beside her, where I left her mug, steam still curling from the surface.

I glance down at my watch. All I have left to do is edit this afternoon, but I’m almost done, so it can wait. And Diane is right—our tea tradition can’t. “Sure, I guess I can spare you a few minutes of my time,” I say with a wink.

She winks back at me as I take my seat. “Well, aren’t I the lucky one?”

“Don’t you ever forget it either.” Just then, Diane’s French Bulldog, Blueberry, comes barreling through his dog door and launches onto the couch, his pink cape flowing behind him. “Welcome back, handsome man! Did you take care of business?” I scoop him up onto my lap, as he showers me with kisses.

“His routine is pretty predictable these days,” Diane says, gazing lovingly at her pup.

Years ago, when I was just starting my photography business, Diane reached out to see if I would be interested in photographing her dog. At the time, I didn’t turn down any type of work, so I agreed, of course. From then on, we set up regular appointments, documenting half-birthdays, all major holidays, and any other excuse Diane could come up with for me to take her dog’s picture and dress him up in the latest adorable outfit she found on Etsy. But along the way, between snapping photos of Blueberry in tiny sweaters and superhero capes, Diane became a friend.

Having never married or had kids of her own, Blueberry is her family, her fur baby and pride and joy, and the glue that solidified our friendship. When she was diagnosed with COPD, I made sure to check on her regularly, help her with errands, cook her dinner a few nightsa month, and help take Blueberry to the Carrington Cove Animal Hospital for his appointments, which just happens to be where my older brother, Parker, works as a vet.

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