Page 88 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

I shake my head. “You’re not driving there tonight. That’s where I came from, and they were bad then. You’re staying at my place.”

I stand and pick up our plates. “I’m not taking no for an answer, so put on your coat while I take care of these dishes.”

She doesn’t argue. When we get back to my place, I make up a bed for her on the sofa, tell her goodnight, and have no regrets when I climb into my own bed without her.

I don’t go right to sleep. I download Instagram and find Evie’s account. It doesn’t take long for me to get lost in the things she’s created. I watch the videos she made of me working on Grandma Rose’s, and I don’t hate them. I hate that I’m in them, but I can appreciate the aesthetic of the videos themselves.

Then I look at Georgia’s account. I read her announcement about the HGTV show. I hate that there are going to be TV crews here and that the show may attract even more people to my Paradise. I hate she didn’t tell me almost as much as I hate thinking that maybe she tried to in the calls and texts I ignored.

But it’s her Paradise as much as it’s mine, and I’m so proud of everything she’s accomplished. My friend is famous. That’s something.

Evie may be headed for the same recognition for her talent. I can’t be mad at her for wanting that.

And I won’t stop it either. I’m not giving the petition to city council. I’ll burn it and all the signatures Jim has gathered. Then I’ll learn how to be okay with change again.

I should tell Evie that Dakota’s sleeping on the couch, but it’s late. Dakota is leaving early enough in the morning that Evie won’t see her. I’ll explain everything when I talk to her in person once Dakota is gone.

I put my phone away and turn off the lights. My thoughts turn back to Dakota, and I wonder if she’s still lying awake, too. In the million times I’ve imagined Dakota asking for my forgiveness, it’s never ended like this. In my many scenarios, along with asking forgiveness, she always begs me to take her back.

I always thought I’d say yes.

I was wrong.

Her asking for my forgiveness is enough. I don’t want her to beg to start again. She’s not the person I want to start again with. I’m ready to tear down the old Adam and build something with the stuff that’s still good. I’m ready for something new with someonenew.

Chapter 41

Evie

I wake up early the next morning. My eyes are bleary and crusted, but once I wipe the sleep from them, the first thing I do is go to my office window. If Dakota’s car is gone, then maybe there’s still hope. But an overnight stay is a very bad sign. Bad enough I may need to pack my bags as soon as I’m finished with Grandma Rose’s.

I hide behind the curtain and peek out the window. Not only is Dakota’s car still there, but Adam is busy scraping snow and ice from all the windows. When he wipes away the snow from the driver’s side window, I see Dakota behind the steering wheel. My breath slows. I may hold it.

I don’t know what to make of this situation. Dakota obviously stayed the night, but she’s leaving now. Exhaust spirals from her tailpipe. But is she leaving for good? Or going to grab groceries so she and Adam can set up house like they’d once planned?

I don’t know. And as painful—and, admittedly creepy—as it is to watch them, I can’t look away. So much of my future is riding on what happens between them that...

Wait...

My future is riding on what happens between them?

That. Is. Ridiculous.

I let the curtain fall closed. I’m not sacrificing an amazing opportunity because I think I can’t survive seeing Adam in love with someone else. Of course, I can survive it. I can even be happy for him. Because I know I can allow myself to be sad at the same time.

I grab my phone and text Georgia.Contract will be signed today.

Then I go back to the window. Because I’m that person who has to press on a bruise to see how much it hurts. I have to know what happens between Adam and Dakota in real time. I don’t want to wait for him to tell me or to find out from someone else.

They don’t keep me waiting for long. Adam finishes the last touches of his very thorough snow scrapping and brushing job, then tosses the scraper into Dakota’s trunk.

Drive away now,I say to no one. But I am a believer in manifesting what we want.

When Dakota doesn’t drive away, I have to reconsider my entire manifestation belief system. Which is fine. I’ve reconsidered it at least a thousand times.

But when she climbs out of her car and stands close enough for Adam to wrap her in a hug, I have to question the times I thought the Universe really was trying to bring us together. When their long hug ends in a kiss—less than a second, but still a kiss—I question whether I really can stay in Paradise.

Sadness rushes over me, hot with shame and anger, uncomfortable. The question whether to stay passes quickly. The sadness doesn’t. I’m going to have to sit with it for a while. Maybe for as long as I’m in Paradise, which is going to be for as long as it takes to finish the Little Copenhagen project.

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