Page 17 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
So I ended things.
I let her believe I didn’t love her enough to stay.
Watching her cry like that again—folded in on herself, choking on sobs she tried to muffle—nearly broke me in half. I wanted to take it all back. Every year of silence. Every excuse I made in the dark. Every time I told myself she was better off.
Unfortunately, I couldn't rewrite the past. So I did the only thing I could.
I showed up now.
Every day since, I’ve shown up early. Made sure her favorite coffee was waiting when she walked in—four creams, five sugars, extra hot, just the way she used to drink it when we crammed for finals and she stole half my thermos.
I didn’t mention the coffee. Just left it near her sketches and acted like I had no idea what kind of magic that cup held. She never said a word about it. But she drank it.
That was enough.
She’d asked for time, so I gave it to her.
I helped her carry tile samples even though she stubbornly insisted she didn’t need help. I followed her around the kitchen space, listening while she debated counter heights and stove placements like the fate of the world depended on it. I took notes. Actual notes. Me, Patrick McCloud, who once forgot an entire final paper in high school because I’d been too busy trying to impress her with grilled cheese experiments.
I listened. And I learned.
And I waited.
That day, I picked her up for our supplier run. She said she could drive herself, but I offered, holding my breath. When she hesitated for just a second too long, I knew I had a yes.
Gracefully, as usual, she slid into the passenger seat of my truck. The set of her stiff shoulders told me that she was still guarded around me. Not that I faulted her for it. No, this was on me. All of this was on me. Her lips pressed into a line as she buckled in.
Thorne stirred the second she shut the door.There she is. Sparkles in all her stubborn glory. She smells like lemons and judgment.
Ignore him,I told myself.
“Seat warmers still work,” I said casually, adjusting the dial for her. “But the air’s a little weird in here lately. Might smell like sawdust and regret.”
Her lips twitched slightly, and I congratulated myself for small progress. The drive was quiet at first. Until she started askingabout hood vents and fire suppression systems. I felt myself smiling just listening to her. I had forgotten how fired up she could get about something she cared about.
I parked the truck outside the industrial supply warehouse, rushing around the front to open the door for her. When she was out, I passed her a folded paper bag I had grabbed from the center console.
She looked at it warily. “What’s this?”
“Breakfast. We’ve got a few minutes to kill before they open.”
“You made me food?”
“Technically, my dad did. I just stole it from his kitchen before he could eat it. But it’s that egg sandwich you like. The one with the spicy aioli?”
Her eyes flicked to mine, surprised. It was a thirty-minute drive from Cedar Hollow to the town we grew up in, and she knew that my dad usually left for work around five. I could see when she worked out that I must have left my place at four, just to drive there and stalk around long enough to snag the sandwich. The smallest smile danced around the edges of her lips. I used to do this a lot for her, steal my dad's egg sandwich. It had been a bit harder this morning, but her little smile made the inconvenience all worthwhile.
I didn’t say anything else. Just let her open it. Her fingers paused briefly on the warm wax paper. "Did your dad ever find out it was you who took all his lunches?"
I chuckled. Dad would get all wound up about it, accusing the dog, mom, Gabe, me. Sometimes he even went on a search, looking behind the fridge, in the garbage. It had been fun. Ichuckled even more when I imagined the look on his face when he returned from the bathroom this morning, only to find his sandwich gone, once again. For the first time in ten years.
"He has no idea," I confessed, watching, mesmerized, as she took her first bite and moaned. It was enough to make my blood thrum, and Thorne grunted in appreciation.If she moans like that over a sandwich, we are so back in.
Shut up,I growled.
"I need to put this on my menu. I never did figure out how he makes this." Ella said between bites.
"Just say the word, and I’ll install a spy camera, then we can eat popcorn while we watch him make it."
