Page 10 of Sweet Bred

“I see.” Confusion washes over my mom’s face. “Well, that’s a shock to hear, Juliet. I thought you were happy with him.”

“We get along perfectly fine. But we don’t have any romantic chemistry.”

This seems to confuse my mom even more. “Eric is a very good-looking young man.”

“He is. I don’t deny that. He and I just don’t…click.”

“Sometimes it takes time for attraction to develop.”

My stomach sinks. I’m not entirely surprised that this is the reaction my mom is having to my admission, but I was hoping that this conversation would go differently. It feels like she isn’t even listening to me.

“Mom, I don’t think this is something that just needs time to develop.”

“But you don’t know that for sure.” My mom reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Honey, I don’t want to see you throw away your relationship because one part of it isn’t as perfect as you want. Especially because…well, to be blunt, that magical spark you’re looking for isn’t even something that lasts.”

That isn’t what I want to hear. And it still feels like she’s not listening to me. “So you think I should go through with the wedding, even though I’m not in love with him.”

“Well—no, that’s not what I’m saying.” She collects her thoughts for a second. “Have you tried going on any romantic dates? Maybe if the two of you were a bit more purposeful about it…”

I can tell I’m getting nowhere with this conversation. “I guess we could try that.”

“It could be exactly what the two of you need.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, honey, but I have to run. You’re feeling a little better now, though, right?”

I’m not. I feel worse than I did before we talked. It’s clear that I’m not going to get the support I need from her. For better or worse, this is a problem I’m going to have to figure out by myself.

After saying goodbye to my mom, I sit in my car for a while, at a loss of what to do. Should I text Eric and suggest a date night? I’m convinced it’s not going to change anything between us, but maybe that’s unfair of me to assume. Maybe we do just need to put in more effort. Sometimes it probably does take time for attraction to bloom.

But sometimes it doesn’t, a little voice in my head reminds me. Remember how you felt around Shaw?

As if I could forget. As much as I’ve tried to force him out, Shaw has lodged a permanent place in my mind. I keep wondering what he’s up to, and how his day is going. I keep thinking about the warm, swoony way he makes me feel. The other day, when we were sitting alone in his bakery, I could have stayed there talking to him for hours.

Which would have been entirely inappropriate, of course.

The sad part is that I doubt Eric would even care.

Swallowing, I grab my phone from my bag and type a text to Eric, suggesting a date night and hitting send before I can change my mind. My phone chimes as I’m driving home. I wait until I’m in my apartment before checking it, and sure enough, it’s a reply from Eric.

Sure, I can make that work, his text reads. I’ll pick you up at seven.

By a quarter to seven, I’m dressed for my date with Eric. I’m wearing the cutest dress I own—a black minidress that compliments my curves—and heels that will last at least ten blocks before they start making my feet hurt. My hair is curled and sprayed, my lips are red, and my eyeliner is as perfect as I can get it.

To my surprise, I’m actually feeling hopeful about our date.

Maybe it’s just because I’m all dolled up and feeling pretty. Maybe it’s something else. Whatever the reason, I’m feeling much more open-minded than I was earlier today.

Who knows. My mom could be right.

A few minutes before seven, I head out to wait in front of my apartment building. Eric is usually punctual, so I’m surprised when ten minutes pass by and he doesn’t show up.

At a quarter after, with no sign of him in sight, I pull out my phone and call him.

He answers after one ring. “Hey. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about our date.”

That doesn’t feel great, but I decide it’s not worth dwelling on. Tonight is still full of potential. “That’s okay. Will you be here soon?”

“Actually…” Eric sighs. “I really need to keep working on this project. Can we go out another night?”

I don’t want to let him off the hook. But I can also imagine how the evening will go if I insist that we stick to our plans: Eric’s mind will be elsewhere the entire time, and he’ll be too distracted with thoughts of work to notice that I’m trying to connect with him.

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