Page 83 of Fake It Till We Fall
“You said you were sick and…”
“And you wanted me to have one last happy Christmas before I kicked the bucket.”
It wasn’t a question; still, I nodded. “I guess I just didn’t want you to worry about me.”
She dropped her gaze for a moment. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t believe that.” Before I could open my mouth to object, she continued. “I don’t believe you’d put yourself and him through such an elaborate lie if there wasn’t at least a part of you that wanted it to be more.”
Her words pierced straight through me.
“Besides,” she said. “You’re not a good liar. You never were.”
The lift in her voice stopped me. “Excuse me?”
“And as far as acting goes, Harper…” She clucked her tongue. “It’s not your strength.”
My mouth fell open. “So, what you’re saying is that youknewwe were pretending the whole time?”
“I didn’t say that,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I’m also not saying that.”
I blinked, trying to make sense of what shewassaying. But she continued before I could follow up.
“What I’m saying is that I don’t think you’ve been acting at all.” She reached across the table and took my hand in hers. “Not about how you feel about him.”
I shook my head, fighting the sting in my eyes. Her simple assessment was so accurate, it threatened to undo me. “It doesn’t matter now anyway,” I said quickly. “Whatever it was, it’s over. I…he…” I waved my hand in the air. “I’m staying, though,” I added. “That’s what matters now. So, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to be happy here. In the kitchen, without…”
“Harper.” Grandma squeezed my hand. “This isn’t your burden to carry,” she said softly. “You know I want you to stay, if that’s whatyouwant. You can make this place your own, whatever you want that to look like. But if it’s not what you want, we’ll let it go. Life is too short to be spent chasing the wrong dream.”
My throat tightened. I wanted to tell her that I’d already learned that, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I nodded and muttered, “Thank you, Grandma.”
She gave me one more smile and pushed up from her seat, adjusting the scarf around her neck and hooking her purse over her arm again.
“Are you going out?”
“Don’t you worry about me,” she said. “I have a few errands to do this afternoon.”
“Let me grab my coat. I’ll?—”
“No, no.” She waved me off. “I’ve already got someone lined up to take me. I know you have other things to worry about.”
“Let me guess.” I forced a smile of my own. “Tilley?”
“Try not to work too hard.” Grandma ignored my question. “I’ll see you later, dear.”
And then she was gone, leaving me in the warm kitchen with the weight of her words echoing in my head.
I’d been so focused on helping Grandma keep what she had that I’d never considered the possibility of turning Willa’s Whisk into something new. Somethingmine.
But as I looked around the familiar kitchen, for the first time, I saw it in a different light. One that sent a spark of excitement through me.
Grayson
I never should have agreedto this.
Of all the things I could be doing with my time, playing chauffeur to Harper’s grandma was not exactly at the top of my list. Not when every second in Willa’s company reminded me sharply of her granddaughter.
But the truth was, I never could say no to Willa Bennett.
Or anyone in this town, really.
