Page 83 of Wish You Were Mine

In a way, the fact he didn’t question me somehow worsened my guilt over seeing Summer behind his back. He trusted me. And I wasn’t sure I deserved it.

“Let’s get our drinks,” Liam said, huddling deeper into his jacket. “It’s bloody cold out here.”

He turned and pushed open the cafe door. I entered behind him but stiffened at the sight of Robert Warner ahead of me in the queue. I pulled myself together after a brief pause and moved to stand behind him, rubbing my hands together to warm them. It was cozy inside Taste of Destiny, but it would take a while for my fingers to thaw.

Robert glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened when he saw me. An instant later, his face fell, as if just seeing me was enough to remind him of what he’d lost. Deep grooves were etched around his mouth and his complexion was pale, emphasizing the dark splotches beneath his eyes.

“Hello,” I said awkwardly. “How are you doing?”

He grimaced. “I’ve been better, but at least I’m out of bed today.”

I nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m very sorry for your loss. I wish there was more we could have done”

“It is what it is,” he said, and turned back toward the counter.

Liam bumped my foot with his in silent support. God, he was a good friend, and I was an asshole who was sneaking around behind his back when I knew what he wanted for Summer, and I wasn’t it.

“You should be sorry,” someone snarled from the other side of the counter.

Fuck. I buried my face in my hands. Couldn’t I catch a break?

Lionel Lowry limped toward us. “If you were less useless, this upstanding man would still have his wife.” He looked at Robert. “Commiserations. I get it. If this lump were any good at his job, I’d still have a leg that worked properly, and I wouldn’t have to live on a disability benefit.”

I inhaled slowly and clung to the fraying ends of my temper, reminding myself that Lionel Lowry was a bitter man who found fault in everyone.

“Mind your own business,” Liam said to him. “Stop trying to stir shit.”

I glanced at Robert, curious whether Lionel’s attempt to rile him up had succeeded, but he was still looking away from us, his shoulders tense, his posture practically screaming that he wished he were anywhere else.

A bell rang, and we all turned toward it. Behind the counter, Eden was standing on a chair.

“Excuse me, everyone!” she called.

A hush descended.

“I am now declaring this cafe an official drama free zone. Anyone who doesn’t like that can please leave now.”

A rush of gratitude surged through me. Eden was young, but she was a good person. I mouthed “thank you” to her, and she waved her hand as if to say, “no worries.”

Lionel sniffed indignantly, muttered something about the rudeness of youth, and stomped out of the cafe, one foot hitting the ground more forcefully than the other. The unevenness of his footfalls hit me more powerfully than his words could have. They showed what he’d really lost.

Because despite his unpleasantness, he had lost something, and that should be recognized.

Eden got down from the chair and a slow hum of chatter began. She started taking orders again, and within five minutes, we had our coffees and were back in the brisk outside air, on our way to the fire station.

We’d just reached the turn off when Grace’s Aunt Desdemona emerged from a shop and smiled at us serenely, her gray hair over her shoulders, one colorful dreadlock hanging down the front.

“Don’t worry, everything will be all right soon,” she said. “It will come to a head first though.” Then she swept past us down the street, her skirts swishing behind her.

Neither Liam nor I questioned what she’d been talking about. We knew better than that. Either it would make sense down the road, or it wouldn’t. Instead, we continued to the fire station. Liam started brewing coffee for the others while I did a quick inventory of the ambulance’s contents to make sure it was properly stocked.

I finished just as Maia was arriving, and we walked together to the staff room. Liam was shuffling cards, and I went to the fridge and scanned the interior, trying to work out what to make for lunch since Liam and I were on cooking duty. Considering that it was my fault we’d been assigned to the kitchen in the first place, I’d better take the lead.

“Hey, Ash. Your phone is ringing.”

I started at Maia’s words. I’d been so out of it that I hadn’t noticed. I pulled it out of my pocket and hit the Answer button.

“Asher speaking.” I hadn’t thought to look at who was calling.

---