Page 60 of Falling for Autumn Again

It’s all Ezra’s fault.

“You do, sweetie.”Sweetie? That's my line. That's what I call her when she's being ridiculous and I'm talking her out of being ridiculous. Like when she thinks about buying Post-it notes in new colors because they match her colorful file folders rather thanfood. Or like when she had perfectly good tickets to Hawaii and she had no intention of using them. That’s when I bust out thesweetie. But—

Wait? Am I being ridiculous? Is Meg using the sweetie line on me because now I’m the one who needs to come to her senses?

I’m not. No way. I am perfectly sensible.

“Meghan, I do not have any feelings. Understand? It’s been ten years. We’ve both moved on.”

“Moved on?” she says, testing me.

I am in no mood to be tested. “I have moved…On. Waaay on.”

“Romantically?”

“Sure,” I say—but man, my voice is way too high-pitched.

“How?” Meg’s tone is patient, as if she has all day and she will gladly wait as I come up with something.

“I’ve dated. There was a guy. Thatoneguy…remember?” There was no such guy. However, if Meg is the best of all best friends, she’ll give me this one.

“No,” she says, going down a notch on the best friend pole. “In the two years I lived in Love, you dated no one but your plaid shirts and those denim overalls you love so much.”

“Hey, those overalls are amazing. Do you have any idea how many pockets those overalls have?” I swallow and flip the two chicken breasts in my pan. No, I’m not cooking one for him and one for me. I’m cooking for myself and one for leftovers tomorrow.If Ezra asks to eat—well, I’m not a complete jerk. I’ll probably give it to him. “Well, there was a guy,” I lie. “And we totally went on a date.”

“Awesome.”

“And Ezra—” I say, because this is the more important piece of information. “Well, he was engaged. So, see? He’s moved on too. We’ve both moved on.”

“Clearly. That must be why you made out in the shed.”

Why did I tell her about that?

“We didn’t make out. It was one kiss and a mistake. And that’s it.” I swallow and dip my homemade pasta gently into the pan of boiling water. It’s fresh and will only need two minutes to cook.

“Feelings don’t die just because time passes, Autumn.” Man, she’s in teacher-lecture mode. Normally, I cheer her on, loving the boss-girl tone she gets, but I’m not usually the recipient of those lectures.

I sigh—like she’s tiring me. “Of course they do. Anything you don’t feed dies.” That sounds so true. And wise. I am so good.

However, I could also argue that dead things feel no pain. And I have felt plenty of pain over the years, but more recently, this week. Ah—yep, I’m gonna stick with the feeding theory at the moment.

“This is different,” Meg says. “Maybe fleeting feelings without any depth would die. But we both know that’s not what the two of you had. You need to talk to him.”

I scoop the pasta from my boiling water and lay it gently into a bowl. “You know what, you aren’t all that helpful. And I’m cooking. So I’m going to—”

“Autumn,” Meg chimes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this harder than it already is. I’m trying to help a friend who had to help me. Sometimes we need those outside eyes to see what we can’t.”

I’m so tempted to ask what she sees. But I don’t.

Because the thing is—Ezra left. I made sure of it. Then, he gotengaged. He moved on. He made his career dreams come true, despite the small hiccup of him being jobless and homeless at the moment. And keeping him here, away from New York and near his father, would do the exact opposite of what I set out to accomplish all those years ago. What would be the point of my sacrifice, then?

I remind myself of what she’s said—outside eyes. I swallow. “I know,” I tell her, because she loves me. She means well. I know she does.

“I think—”

There’s a knock on my screen door. I peek out my opened kitchen entrance. My front door is opened wide, letting me see tall, dark, and grown-up Ezra standing on the other side.

“Okay!” I yell. “Thanks for all that great information, Meg. Love you! Bye! Bye!” And then I drop my slotted spoon into the boiling pot of water and hang up on my bestie.

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