Page 117 of Fortunate Misfortune
“What’s next? We need noodles and ricotta for lasagna night, laundry detergent, a bottle of white wine, the good toilet paper, and—”
“Love,” Shay says.
Ruffling her braids, I laugh. “Yes, Shay. I do love you. Very big, in fact, but I don’t think we can purchase that here.”
She shakes my hand off. “No… You.”
“Come on. You’ve got to use your words. I what?”
“You are my best friend in the world, so how did I miss this? It’s so obvious.” Her eyes blow wide, darting around my face. “You love him.”
I level her with a fierce gaze. “You have officially lost it. Help me finish shopping so we can go home.”
“No, I’m serious. You’re glowing. You’re sleeping better. You’re going out without having to be bribed. It’s beenweeksof this! You. Love. Kenneth.”
I steer the cart toward the household products. “Okay, I’m putting this discussion on hold. You’re acting worse than Adri did when she found out about you and Cade.”
Shay clomps in her bright pink Crocs until she’s in front of the basket, and I screech to a stop. “Answer this, Mal. Does he make you happy?”
I wince as a fellow shopper walks by, definitely judging us for having a full-blown conversation in the middle of the aisle. Even though I would scream about how happy Kenneth makes me from the rooftops, I’m sure nobody in this store would appreciate that.
“Yes,Shaylene,” I hiss. “I already said that.”
“Does he make you feel safe? Valued? Cared for?”
“Very much so.”
“Do you?” she asks.
I sigh. “Do I what?”
“Love him. Do you love him?”
“Shay.”
“No.” She holds the basket tight, stopping my attempt at a U-turn. “Do you love him?”
“We haven’t been dating for long,” I say, because it’s the truth.
“It’s been like three years since you met him. Do you love him?”
“It’s not that simple, Shay.”
“Bullshit. Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
I cover my mouth, but my confession is already out. Shay jams her finger into my chest, and I’m saved when my phone starts ringing. The most annoying tone I could find three years ago is still set for Kenneth. Now it makes my stomach flip with pleasure instead of wanting to vacate all its contents.
“You didn’t hear that,” I say in what I hope is a threatening tone. It’s hard to be serious and smile at the same time.
“Oh, I heard you. Maybe I should channel my inner Adri more often. She may be extra, but the girl knows how to get answers.” Shay puckers her lips when she sees his name flashing across the screen. “And don’t forget to tell him youloveeeeeehim.”
I hold a finger up to my lips, my middle finger, and click the green button. Those words will not be spoken over the phone for the first time.
“Hey. We’re at the store and Shay is acting up—”
“Eddie,” he whispers, and my whole body tenses. “I need you.”
