Page 70 of Finding Out

Where they were dancing now, I could see Tom. He was focused on his daughter, but I could see his lips and could just make out what he was saying.

“Avy, for almost thirty years, it’s been you and me. I’m so proud of the woman you are. I wouldn’t change a single moment.”

Avery tipped her head, but I couldn’t hear her response.

“I’m happy you found Chris. The guy’s everything you deserve. And this moment is so much easier knowing that you’re in the right place. That you found your person.”

He swallowed and then blinked. And she shook her head.

“Change is inevitable. And I want us to change together. Grow into a relationship between two adults, instead of a kid and her dad.” He paused for two beats before he went on. “I never want to hurt you. I just want a chance at being happy too.”

They spun away, and I couldn’t hear more.

I couldn’t stay. I pushed to my feet and left the room. It hurt, knowing that all our relationships had changed. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My being with Tom wasn’t supposed to mess up his relationship with his daughter, and it wasn’t supposed to cost me my best friend.

In twenty seconds, I was out the door and in the lobby. But it wasn’t enough. I needed air. As I pushed out into the cold night air, the chill bit at my bare skin.

With my arms wrapped around myself, I rubbed my arms, wishing I could slip into Tom’s jacket but unwilling to go back in for it. Around me, flurries fell gently. Tom was sure Avery would get over it, but I might need to come to terms with the idea that she wouldn’t. That I’d have to go on with the rest of my life without my best friend.

I swallowed down that idea, the burn of it scorching my throat.

“You must really be miserable in there if you’re willing to hang out in the cold.”

I gasped at the sound of my best friend’s voice. “Avery.” I blinked. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

Her eyes were shiny with tears as she stepped up next to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. Always shorter than me, her head barely came up to my shoulder.

“I do need to be out here. I have to apologize to my best friend.”

“You don’t?—”

“I’ve been awful.”

A long sigh escaped me, and I slumped against her. “No, I should have talked to you. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

She tipped her head back and made eye contact. “I didn’t give you a chance to talk. My mother has pointed out that you and dad are two of my favorite people. And Jana reminded me a dozen times that we’ve both wanted you to find a man.”

“It wasn’t in my ten-year plan,” I reminded her.

“Probably because I refused to let you even think about my dad that way.”

She was wrong about that. I’d thought about him plenty.

Her body stiffened and her blue eyes blazed. “Please don’t correct me. Those fun conversations are now between you and Jana.”

She took a deep breath. “You love my dad.”

My eyes flitted shut as I nodded. “I can’t apologize for that.”

“You don’t have to.”

My eyes popped open and my heart skipped.

“Something Dad said shook me.” Her arm tightened around mywaist. “When I was a kid, he put all his focus into baseball and making sure I was happy. On making sure I was good. And now I’m moving on and happy. So now he should get that chance too.” She took a breath. “I want that for him. And you.” She cleared her throat. “So I’m sorry I was a bitch. I’m sorry I tried to write off something that was important to you. And I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I wish—” Her voice cracked. She blinked and cleared her throat. “I wish I could go back to last week and try again. But neither of you have ever been relationship people.” She swallowed. “The idea of a fling between you two wrecking things, leaving me to pick sides, scared me. And I reacted badly.”

From that perspective, I understood where she was coming from. “We wanted to sit down and talk. Give you a chance to see us together.”

“I’ve seen it all day.” She squeezed me again. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

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