Page 46 of The Uncomplicated Café
Huh. Maybe Evan had a point. “Okay,” he countered, verbally processing his muddled thoughts, “let’s say I tell CeCe how I feel. And let’s extend our imagination even furtherand pretend she reciprocates. Then what? We date, maybe get married, have a few kids. Then, one day, we wake up and realize we’ve drifted apart. We’re different people, we want different things. If we’re lucky, love fizzles to indifference. And if we’reunlucky, it’s worse. We wind up like—”
“Your parents?” Evan interjected gently.
Jayce winced. His friend could read him too well. “Sure. They’re a prime example of friends-to-lovers-to-foes. And so is nearly every other couple I know.”
“Okay,” Evan conceded. “But nearly every couple you know is in Hollywood, which is its own microcosm of dysfunction. Their divorce rate is significantly higher than the general population.”
“True, but the general divorce rate isn’t exactly low, either.” Jayce threw his head back against the couch cushions, the pressure between his temples building. He couldn’t think straight.
“You’re right,” Evan admitted, “and that stinks. But you have to stop viewing yourself as one of the statistics, as if the outcome is inevitable.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
“Of course it isn’t. You have a choice, Jayce. A choice to love CeCe with a fire that burns beyond the initial flame of infatuation. You can choose patience, forgiveness, grace, and perseverance. You can choose to see the good in her, day after day, long after the first rush of excitement fades. You can continue to be her best friend and her biggest supporter, to honor your commitment to stand by her, no matter what. That’s on you, with God’s help. And then you gotta trust Him for the rest.”
Evan’s words seeped into his bones, reshaping beliefs he’d long considered unshakable. As he stared up at the ceiling fan, watching it rotate round and round, his mind spun back to thepast, transporting him to his childhood living room and the moment his family ripped apart.
“Your father and I are getting a divorce.” His mother’s voice still rang clear, cold, and unyielding.
“It’s not anyone’s fault,” his father had chimed in, three feet away from his soon-to-be ex-wife on the couch while Jayce sat in the middle. “But sometimes, things change.”
Jayce had noticed the change months before. They’d started snapping at each other more often, then the spats escalated into full-blown fights. They’d stopped laughing together, holding hands or even touching each other at all. The increased time apart and abandoned date nights soon devolved into separate bedrooms. He’d finally understood the expressionpassing like two ships in the night. Except, his parents were battleships that never passed each other without exploiting the opportunity to lob a missile.
When he’d asked them why, they’d exchanged a strained glance.
“Sometimes,” his father had said with a pained expression, “love, no matter how strong it starts out, simply doesn’t last.”
It wasn’t until that moment that his mother’s stoic facade faltered. She’d blinked back tears, pretending they didn’t exist while they insisted that their love for him would always remain the same.
But by then, their words carried little assurance.
In his young eyes, love had been reduced to a fleeting feeling with an unknown yet inevitable expiration date—a life lesson supported by countless other couples over the years.
But Evan’s words that night chipped away at the scab around his heart, giving him hope.
And he finally knew exactly how he wanted his story to end.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
ABBY
Musicand a myriad of voices swirled around Abby, but she barely registered a sound, aware only of the dense fog of emotion blanketing the backyard. The bittersweet blend of melancholy and merriment permeated Max’s going-away party, and for a split second, Abby regretted hosting the event. What if they’d had a simple Friday afternoon together instead?
Her gaze swept the crowd of familiar faces. Verna and her eclectic book club, the Belles. Nadia and Evan. Sage and Flynn. Max’s youth pastor, his teacher, soccer coach, friends and classmates. Carla, Iris, and even grumpy Garth. So many people loved Max and deserved the opportunity to say goodbye.
Her throat tightened.Goodbye. How would she manage to say the word aloud, let alone to Max?
For the past few days, while they’d waited for the DNA test results, she’d tried to accept the inevitable, to come to terms with Sam’s decision to take Max away, to sever their contact.
It’s his call, she’d reminded herself. It’s what Sam deemed best for Max. Even if she didn’t agree with or understand his rationale, she needed to respect his decision. At the very least, for Max’s sake.
And yet, nothing about the situation felt right. They could offer so much, both to Max and Sam. Their whole world had turned upside down. Sam would be starting over. And so would Max. Why didn’t Sam want their help?
The stinging in her throat moved to her eyes. She blinked up at the crystal blue sky.Strange. Not a cloud in sight.
“Seems like a few gloomy rain clouds would be fitting, doesn’t it?” Verna asked, handing her a glass of strawberry basil lemonade.
Abby managed a small smile. “It’s like you read my mind. And thank you.” She took a slow sip, letting the sweet, tangy liquid soothe her raw throat.
