Page 93 of The Affair
He grinned. “And what does the new you want to do?”
“I still want to argue just for the sake of it, but I know you’re right. There are pieces in that store that have been there for more years than I can count. If I don’t start moving some of it, I’ll be forced to shut down.”
“And you think bringing in more inventory from the flea market will help?”
“I’m not sure,” I confessed. “But it’s worth a try. It might have been beneath my mom, but I am more than willing to sell something she considered worthless to someone who might find it priceless.”
“That was actually kind of poetic. Are your grandma’s journals rubbing off on you?” he teased.
“Hardly,” I answered. “More like a healthy dose of desperation.”
“I don’t think what you’re doing is desperate at all. Your mom’s way of business worked for a long time, but that doesn’t mean it will continue to do so. Any good business owner makes changes along the way.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t like it.”
“What, the change?”
I nodded.
“No one said change was comfortable.”
Grinning, I gave him a sideways glance. “Now who’s trying to be poetic?”
“Just stating a fact.”
Our conversation shifted after that. We talked about Halloween and how cute the trick-or-treaters had been. He told me about a new table he was working on, and we had a heated debate on which pizza place in town was better.
It was fun and easy.
But I couldn’t ignore all of the subjects we were clearly avoiding. All the topics we had to swerve around to avoid talking about his family or the dozen other things we were sidestepping.
Like that call I’d made to Reed that I never mentioned.
Part of me could rationalize that I was blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Just like the day I’d seen the woman in his driveway, I’d had a momentary lapse of judgment that day, and if I just told him, we could get through it.
Together.
But those nagging what-ifs kept me from saying the words.
What if he doesn’t understand?
What if he sees it as a major invasion of his privacy?
What if he ends it?
So many what-ifs were bouncing around in my head, but the last one was the loudest of all. I couldn’t bear the idea of him walking away.
I’d given my heart to another Gallagher brother, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose it now.
When he pulled into a rest stop so we could stretch our legs, I took advantage of the moment before he shut off the ignition and finally spoke up. It was now or never. “I called Reed the other day.”
It was as if someone had pressed pause on a remote control.
He froze instantly, his eyes forward as he processed my words. “Why?”
“I don’t know why I did it,” I said before adding, “Okay, I do, but that doesn’t excuse it. I was upset. I’d just watched you drive away after a forty-minute call that looked incredibly intense, and I was feeling useless.”
“So you thought calling Reed would help?” The way he said it sounded calm, but there was an intensity in his words that made me know he was anything but.
