Page 75 of Happy After All

“Okay,” I say instead. “Will you text me?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t come to my room that night, and I text him a reminder about the dive-in movie and the barbecue tomorrow, but I already know he’s going to try to avoid it.

Breakfast was a fluke.

Today was a fluke.

Whatever progress I thought I made with him, it wasn’t real. There’s really no such thing as progress to be made. He’s going to leave here and never come back. It was research for books all along. It was never fate; it was never me.

He didn’t choose it.

I can’t write his story. I can only write my own.

Chapter Seventeen

If I’m honest, December is a little bit too cold for a dive-in movie. With temperatures hovering dangerously close to the fifties, people don’t really want to languish in the water for a couple of hours. In the summer, everyone is happy to grab a flotation device and a cold drink and watch mayhem on the big screen that I have mounted at the end of the pool. But in the cooler months, they tend to take seats at the tables and lounge chairs around the pool area.

Not me.

I love the pool and I don’t care how cold it is. As I use my hand pump to blow up my pink flotation device, I deliberately choose not to think about Nathan standing me up last night and ignoring my texts today.

Flings don’t need to keep in touch, I guess.

Or maybe the fling was flung and I’ll just see him for fake dating and a book event. Sounds great.

The idea of that makes my stomach twist into a knot.

Elise crosses the courtyard to where I’m fighting with my floaty.

“Your enemy turned lover is a no-show?” she asks.

I try to hide my disappointment, though I’m not really sure why. “He’s working.”

“On what?”

I let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know, Elise. How is the Ben situation?”

“Rude, honestly,” she says.

“Ben?”

“No, you. I haven’t done anything about it. I’m not going to fling a cataclysmic wrench into my life on a whim.”

“Gee, why not?” I ask, my tone dry. I feel I’ve done just that.

Though maybe the wrench was flung years ago, and it’s bouncing around in all my inner workings still and always.

I squint against the fading light.

The sun is beginning to set, and my dear Albert is manning the grill, which is honestly the nicest thing. He can be such a pain but is essentially sweet. My cribbage ladies made Christmas cookies to share, and Solis made a chocolate cake that she garnished with fondant holly leaves and berries.

We have four extra families for dinner tonight, and the kids are running around the yard scream-singing Christmas carols that I’m sure they’re rehearsing for the pageant.

In many ways, my heart is full.

I resent that Nathan has the power to make me feel ... anything else.

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