Page 134 of It's Always Been You
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”
I glance at Grandma, who is most definitely eavesdropping as she pretends to tidy up her kitchenette. “Okay. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to thank you.”
A shrill, incredulous noise slips past my tongue. “Thankme? For what?”
He shrugs. “I took your advice.”
“My advice?”
He rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Evie. Keep up. Penelope?”
“Oh, yeah!” Penelope—the newest addition to our Bible study group. I could tell she was smitten with Adam from the moment we went to McDonald’s together that first time. Like most men, Adam seemed clueless. I had to point out her crush and speak in very plain language about what I thought he should do about it.Ask her out, you dimwit!
“We’re going on our first date this Friday,” he says shyly. “I’m super excited.”
Relief blooms in my chest. I’ve wanted nothing more than to see him happy and settled with a woman he adores. A woman who’s good for him. “Took you long enough to ask her out,” I joke. It’s been well over a year since they met.
“Well,” he says, then hesitates as he runs a streamer through his fingers. “I wanted to make sure that I was over you before asking her out. It wouldn’t have been fair to her otherwise.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s . . .”Noble. Commendable.
He grins. “Don’t worry. I have been for a while.” He shrugs. “About that. I wanted you to know that I no longer blame you for what you did. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m glad you did it.” He pauses, noting the shock on my face with a sad smile. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wish you hadn’t done it the way you did, but there are worse ways to end an engagement.”
I snort. “Probably. But I still suck for doing that.”
His brows rise and cheeks inflate like he’s holding his tongue. “My point is . . . I wouldn’t have wanted you to marry me just because you didn’t want to hurt me. I want the real thing . . . so you spared us both a lot of heartache.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.
He laughs. “I forgive you, friend.”
My heart swells with gratitude. “Thank you.”
Once Adam is gone, I help Grandma polish off the cookies before getting back to work. Even though the party is long over, I keep stealing glances at the door, hoping Brandon will make a surprise appearance.
Grandma notices my preoccupation. “He’s not coming.”
“Why didn’t he come?” It’s a Saturday afternoon. Even if it’s his turn to have Teddy, they would have both been here to celebrate with me if they could have been. Teddy wouldn’t miss a birthday party of mine for the world.
Grandma shrugs. “Guess he didn’t want to be. I sent him an invitation, just like I did for everyone else. He never got back to me in the end.”
Hurt lances through me. I can’t believe he wouldn’t let Grandma know he had something else going on . . . or me, for that matter. While Brandon and I don’t exactly “hang out” these days, we don’t go out of our way to avoid one another, either. We talk on the phone and text all the time, and we still see each otherevery Sunday at church, where we smile and make small talk, pretending not to be the fools in love we really are.
So what gives?
Grandma shrugs again. “Guess you’ll have to talk to him about it.”
There’s a knock on the door, and my heart leaps before I realize it’s just Bert. He sticks his head in, then ambles lazily into the room, a folded checkerboard tucked beneath his arm as he shuffles toward the kitchen table. He’s lost a significant amount of weight since moving to Sunny Days about six months ago, thank goodness. He’s doing well. He and Grandma both are. Something tells me it has something to do with each other. They’ve been suspiciously inseparable over the last few months . . .
“Bert,” I say, crossing my arms. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He whistles under his breath as he sets up the board. “Morning, Evie. Happy birthday.”
Grandma rushes to pour two mugs of coffee, and I take the not-so-subtle hint that she wants me to skedaddle. “Is there anything I can—”
“Nope,” Grandma interjects, winking at me. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
