Page 46 of The Choices I've Made
Usually, the large space felt spacious, but the moment he walked in, it felt like a vacuum.
So small and tight, I could barely find air to breathe.
“I seem to remember a little boy crying on the beach a time or two because he’d stepped on a jellyfish.”
“That’s not clumsiness. That was just pure dumb luck,” he countered. “Well, and the fact that I never watched where I was walking—something you obviously still haven’t mastered.”
I let out a long sigh, resting my hand against the cold gray granite. “I don’t have time for this again, Jake.”
“Time for what?”
“This walk down memory lane we keep finding ourselves on. I’m not the same doe-eyed girl I was when you walked away. I have a life—one that I’ve worked hard for.”
“I get it, Mols. I do. You’ve moved on. You don’t have to constantly keep reminding me. And yourself.”
“I don’t need to remind myself,” I argued.
“Are you sure?” he pushed, taking a few steps closer.
I could see every lean muscle he owned peeking out from his tight black shirt. It made my heart race.
“Because I’ve only been here for about twenty-four hours, and you seem to need to defend your life and the choices you’ve made about every chance you get.””
I had no witty comeback. No words to shoot him down.
“And the only time you’ve even mentioned your beloved fiancé is when I’ve brought him up.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but still, I had nothing.
Because, deep down, I knew he was right.
“The kitchen’s all yours,” I said softly, stepping past him as I raced for an exit. “I’m going to bed.”
He didn’t fire back with any smart-ass comments about the time of day or the fact that I still had a million things left on my to-do list.
He just let me go.
Like he’d done twelve years ago, making it even clearer that Jake Jameson and I were never meant to be.
No matter how much I’d believed otherwise.
The next day, I woke up early.
After spending the late afternoon and evening sulking in my first-floor bedroom, I was half crazy over the amount of stuff I’d ignored in my attempt to avoid a certain houseguest.
But, the minute the clock hit six that morning, I was up and ready. Knowing the Lovells were leaving today had me in a perplexed mood. I would miss them, I always did, so it would be nice to spend a little time with them this morning, cooking up a large breakfast, like normal.
I needed a little normal in my life right now.
So, I got to work, chopping veggies and sautéing sausage for a cheesy casserole. I heated up croissants and muffins I’d made earlier, and I brewed coffee. It was a little cumbersome to do, having only one working foot.
But I managed.
By the time the Lovells came down to eat, I felt accomplished and halfway back to normal.
“This looks divine!” Mrs. Lovell crooned before noticing my foot. “Oh heavens, dear, what did you do?”
“I sprained my ankle yesterday on the steps. You’d think, after this long, I’d have figured them out by now.”
