Page 21 of Healing You
But it meant that she could finally spend time with her friends who worked normal hours. And this Y vonne was more than thrilled when the weekend finally rolled around. She'd already put in calls to her various foster families and all the dogs from the puppy mill seemed to be doing well. Even though it was the weekend, with a job like hers, she never truly had days off. weekend, her best friend from high school, Kyra, had offered to help in planning the 10K—in exchange for free brunch. Carrie had already put a website together so that people could purchase their spots early. They needed it to be soon enough to pay for the extra fees that came with taking on twenty more dogs, but also they needed to give people time to plan for it. She and Carrie settled on six weeks.
Yvonne sat outside Lex's bakery with an iced latte in one hand and Gatsby and Daisy's leashes in the other. Yes, she had named the Chihuahua Daisy. If she was gonna go for literary references, she may as well go all in. It had been less than a week since Gatsby's first chemo treatment, and with the prednisone on top of that, he was already stronger than ever. He ran down the sidewalk during his walks, tugging the leash like he did when he was a puppy. Even now, sitting beside Daisy, he lounged, ears relaxed and tail wagging in the warm summer sun.
Lila Burgess walked down the sidewalk, stopping in time to squeal as she saw Yvonne's dogs. “Oh my God, they're so cute!” She bent, petting Gatsby, but moved quickly to Daisy.
“Is she available for adoption?”
Yvonne's heart seized at the thought of having to give Daisy up so soon. She didn't usually get so attached to her foster animals, but something about the Chihuahua's honey brown eyes warmed her soul. “Um... no. N-not yet. She's fighting a pretty bad infection.” Grabbing her phone from her purse, she pulled up the pictures of the other two foster dogs she took in from the puppy mill. A beagle and a puggle. “But these two are available now. They're energetic, but sweet as can be.”
“Is that a pug?” Lila cooed, taking the phone and bringing it closer to her face.
“Pug-beagle mix. I can bring him by the diner today for you to meet.”
Her head jerked up. “Could you? I get off of work around five. Maybe I could foster him for a few days? See if we're a match.”
Yvonne beamed. “Absolutely. I'll meet you at your mom's diner at five.”
Lila skipped away and Yvonne sighed in relief, bending to pet Daisy.
“So...” A deep baritone filled the space behind her and she stiffened at that soft, velvet tone. “This one's not for adoption, huh?”
She spun around to find Steve standing in the doorway to Lex's bakery. She knew he would be here. On the weekends, almost every person in town either went to Elsa's or Lex's. She and Steve had seen each other in passing at the café several times since its opening a few months ago. “Her infection's really bad still,” she said, not looking at him.
“It's not that bad,” he answered, and Yvonne looked up in time to catch his smirk. “As her veterinarian, I think I would know.”
God, that grin. No matter how frustrated or angry or upset she was at Steve back when they dated, that smile was usually all it would take to thaw the ice. And now, forty-eight hours after they had kissed in the bathroom after dinner, his smile was doing its job, yet again. Her lips tingled with the memory of that kiss. She knew it had been a mistake and yet... it didn't feel like a mistake.
“Okay, fine,” Yvonne said, throwing her hands up. “You win. I love her. I want to keep her. She fits in perfectly with me and Gatsby, and I think he feels better having her around.”
Steve dipped his head, requesting she make room for him. She scooted down the bench, wishing she wasn’t so aware of him as she sipped her latte.
“You're probably right,” he said. “Having a friend could definitely help him fight this battle.”
“It sure as hell would have helped me heal.”
As he cringed, she momentarily regretted saying as much. “You had lots of friends, Eve.”
She was silent as she stared at him, blinking through spots, and damn it if her forehead wasn't pinching with tension. There was so much she had to say, so much that she had held in for years. Things that hadn't been “proper” or “good timing” or hell—he just simply hadn't been around to hear it. But now he was. He was sitting in front of her, and maybe it would be her only chance for him to know all the things she'd been thinking for thirteen years.
And still—as she opened her mouth to speak, the words strangled in her throat before they reached her tongue. “But I didn't have you. And along with you, I lost Ronnie.”
“It was for the best,” he said. “I did exactly what you—”
Anger seethed through her chest at that. “I've spent my whole life having people tell me what's best for my life, how to spend my money, how to dress my body. If you had to walk away from me because you were mad at me, or you blamed me for the accident, or even for your own self-preservation, that's fine. But don't pretend you're a hero for taking away my choices in life.” Yvonne stood from the bench, unable to sit next to him any longer. Unable to make small talk and pretend that the way his knee brushed hers wasn't affecting her.
He stood right along with her, his eyes flashing a shiny blue that reflected the blazing sun. “I know I'm not a hero. That said, you were pissed. And I was young and afraid to see you. Or have you forgotten that you wrote—”
“I'm sorry I didn't roll out the red carpet for you, Steve. I was a little busy relearning how to walk again.”
“We were both in a bad place back then. But the phone works both ways. If you wanted to talk it out or make up, you could have also made that happen. I was respecting boundaries that you had set up.”
Yvonne shook her head and felt the angry tremble low in the pit of her stomach. The same warning her body always gave her before she was about to lose control, like the tremor that rocks the land before a large earthquake. “Boundaries? What the—don't feed me that horseshit. I tried calling you after you were discharged. I tried giving you time and a little space. You didn't want a little space. You wanted out.”
He winced, his mouth twisting—regret, maybe? And he reached out to cup her jaw. “I wanted to protect you. To do what I thought you wanted.”
She stepped back, away from his outstretched hand. “Except that I didn't need your protection. I needed your friendship and your—” She broke the sentence off, her voice cracking. She was about to say love. Love. How dumb was she? As if she even knew what love was now, let alone when she was sixteen.
“Finish that thought. Please tell me what's in your head. Because mine is so messed up, I don't know what to think anymore.”
