Page 20 of Blind Date With a Cop
“Fine?” She snorts. “Fine is charitable. While I open these blinds, you’re marching down the hall to that shower.”
“Not now,” I sigh. “I don’t have the energy.”
“That’s your depression talking.” She whirls on me, hands on hips. “Get into the shower, Cass. Or I’ll drag you there myself.”
“When did you become so mean?”
“I’m not mean. I love you. I’ve given you a week to work this out, and you haven’t. So now you get the kick in the ass you need. Get. In. The. Shower.”
“And if I don’t?”
She holds up her phone. “I have the book club on speed dial. Every woman over seventy will be here in ten minutes.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“Relentless,” I mutter.
“My best friend needs me,” she says, folding her arms. “And I’ll resort to any tactics I have to. Now move.”
I move.
The hot water stings my skin as the tears start fresh. By the time I pull on a clean oversized sweater and yoga pants, my face is blotchy, and my chest is tight.
Rene is waiting in the kitchen, with a coffee mug steaming in her hand. “Butter or peanut butter on your toast?”
“I’m not hungry?—”
She cuts me off with a glare. “Swallow those words, honey. You’re eating toast.”
I sag into a chair. “Fine. Butter.”
She slides the plate in front of me. I pick at the corner of the toast, nibbling.
“So,” she peels a banana. “What’s your plan?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Blake’s been asking for you. He came by yesterday.”
The toast drops from my fingers. “What? He was here? He’s not supposed to be driving.”
“I don’t know how he got here, but that’s not the point. The point is that man is in love with you just as much as you’re in love with him. And he needs you.”
Needs me. The words splinter through my chest. “I can’t be with him,” I whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because he got shot, Rene!” The words rip out of my raw throat. “He could’ve died! And I can’t go through that again. I can’t lose him.”
“Oh, Cassie…” She moves to wrap me in a hug, holding me tight. “Fear should never keep you from the best thing that’s ever happened to you. None of us knows when our last day is. He could just as easily die in a car accident. Or slip in the shower. Or choke on a damn sandwich.”
I pull back, glaring through wet lashes. “He’s a cop, Rene. Hedidget shot.”
“And he could be a brick mason who falls off a wall. Or an electrician who gets zapped. Or a bank teller shot during a robbery. Life is dangerous, honey. Loving someone always is. But you don’t stop living, or loving, because of the what-ifs.”
My chin trembles. “I don’t know how to stop crying.”
