Page 51 of Text Appeal

Me: Yes, it was.

Ava: So?

Me: Ask Connor.

Ava: Is he talking to me?

Me: Ask him that too.

Ava: Why are you encouraging me to talk to your boyfriend?

Me: Because if all it takes to break us up is a conversation with you then we shouldn’t be together in the first place.

Ava: You’re in a mood.

Ava: I don’t need more shots of your feet. Stop it. Why do you always have to make things weird?

Me: Go away. I’m working.

The day is gone, and soft evening colors own the sky by the time I see him again. Connor’s standing beside the black mustang, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He gives me an easy smile and says, “I would have come upstairs.”

“No need.”

“You look beautiful.” His blond hair is brushed back, and his navy linen suit is cut to perfection. How dare he. It’s honestly hard not to swoon. Brain chemicals are such a bitch. But I am determined to keep my heart and mind a respectful distance from the man. “Figured blue was a safe choice.”

“Thank you. And blue is always a safe choice with me.” In lieu of armor I am wearing my favorite. The Twilight dress from Reformation with tie straps, a square neckline, and a midi-length skirt. Sandal heels, a clutch, and dangling silver earrings finish the outfit. Nice but not trying too hard. Which is apparently an issue with school reunions. The things an online search can teach you. “You’re in a good mood. I wasn’t sure you would be.”

His smile falters. “Yeah. About this morning…”

I wait. And then I wait some more.

An elderly couple walking past with ice creams smile ingreeting. Then a Porsche cruises past, followed by a tricked-out van. Port Stewart is a mix. A hodgepodge of people varying from rich retirees running from the heat down south in summer and the endless dark of the far northern winters. To locals living in everything from beach shacks and backwoods cabins to stately Victorian mansions that have been in the family for generations.

I want to fit in here. Connor already does. But despite being surrounded by friends and family and people he’s known forever—he’s lonely and unhappy. Which makes him prime angsty hero material. But not someone even remotely living their best life.

“I’m sorry for just leaving like I did,” he says eventually. “Sometimes it takes me a minute to catch up with things. But I’ve been thinking…”

“What about?”

He sighs and turns his head away. There’s a small to good chance I will pass of old age before he tells me what’s on his mind. “She she hated it when I got quiet. When I stopped talking.”

I wait.

“This is harder than I thought it would be. Telling you about Dad last night wasn’t so bad. It’s been years since that happened. But this is fresher. If I get it right with you though…” He truly is the king of open-ended sentences.

“Byitdo you mean communicating?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “This with you is an opportunity for me to get some things sorted out.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not great at working through stuff because that’s not something she and I did,” he explains. “There was this cycle. She’dcome back and things would be great. Everyone was excited to see her, and I fucking loved having her home. But after a few weeks, sometimes a month or so, reality would start to creep back in, and the novelty wore off. She got bored being in town, and I was at work all day. I was too tired to go out every night and there was other shit that needed to be done. Laundry, groceries, helping Grandma or whatever. That’s when we’d start to fight and that’s when she’d leave.”

I don’t know what to say. Though it’s about what I expected given the little I knew about their history.

“Nic called it the recurring honeymoon.” He taps his fingers on the roof of the car. “I’m not supposed to know that. Lu overheard her and told me, the little jerk.”

I smile.

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