Page 49 of Just Can't Fall for the Enemy

“If she asked you to leave, it’s because she thinks she’s better off alone. But it isn’t true. That girl has been trying to shoulder an incredible weight since her parents died. It isn’t often she finds someone she trusts enough to help her carry it.”

The guilt dug deeper into my gut. “I want nothing more than to take it from her.”

“Then, tell me this. Are you the man she loved yesterday or the man she hates today?”

I stared at my cup, feeling more helpless than ever.“I suppose I’m both.”

Grammy Marissa leaned forward. “You said she deserved better. Sobebetter. Be the man she thought you were, the man who made her smile to herself when she thought nobody was looking and sing badly in the shower.”

I gave her grandma a half smile. “She did those things?”

“That and more. Didn’t hear when I talked to her, got all domestic again and started cooking things . . . Seriously, please distract her. I don’t think I’ve washed so many mixing bowls in all my life.”

We chuckled together for a long moment.

Then Grammy Marissa sighed. “Do you realize how long I’ve tried to convince Sophie to move to Florida? Yet she meets you, and six days later she’s ready to leave everything. You made her so happy. Just last night, excited and full of joy, she told me about what life on the road with you would be like.” She leaned back and draped her arm over the empty chair next to her. “Of course, it was never about the places. Sophie is content with the simple life. She just wanted to be with you. She still does. She just doesn’t know it.”

Either Grammy Marissa wanted to dig the knife in deeper or she genuinely wanted me to make things right with Sophie. I chose to believe the latter. “But how? She won’t talk to me.”

“She doesn’t have to talk. All she has to do is listen.”

“I tried explaining, but she wouldn’t have it.”

“Then don’t give her a choice.”

She wanted me to do something, but what? Just then, my phone buzzed. I slid it from my pocket and checked the screen. Ben again.

“Excuse me just a second,” I told her, then answered. “Hey, can I call you back? I don’t have any answers for you, but I’m working on it.”

“It isn’t that,” Ben said, his voice grave. “Mom’s in the hospital again. It’s bad.”

I nearly dropped the phone. This couldn’t be happening.

“Tanner?” he asked. “Are you there?”

“I’m here. Just processing.”

“We all are. Might be a good time to come.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He thanked me and hung up. A little dazed, I slid my phone into my pocket. When was the last time I’d actually texted my mom? I couldn’t remember. Most of my communication with the family came through Ben. She probably thought I was mad at her. While I’d complained about my mom to Sophie, my mother had been living what could possibly be her last days of life.

Mom had her issues, but she’d still been an excellent mother to her two boys. I, on the other hand, had been a rotten son.

“Bad news?” Grammy Marissa asked with a frown.

“It’s my mom,” I said, rising to my feet and grabbing my coffee. “I’m sorry. I know you have Sophie’s best interests at heart, and you’re probably right about everything. I should fight for her.” I swallowed hard. “But maybe this is a sign, evidence that what we had was too perfect to exist in this world. She was always too good for me, and now she’s figured that out.”

“Don’t you start on me too. Both of you are worthy and deserving of love no matter what has happened in your pasts to make you believe otherwise. Wherever you go from here, Tanner Carmichael, you remember that.”

Nineteen

Normally,walking into Mari’s bakery meant the smell of hot butter and cinnamon. Today, it meant a room full of people turning in my direction like someone controlled them with a remote. All women, all wearing the same expression of pity. Sounded like word had gotten around that my video was not, in fact, one I wanted shoved in front of twenty million people. At last count, Tanner’s subscribers had shot up another ninety thousand in a day and continued to soar. He’d been right about needing a story, and he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

“I thought how brave it was that you wanted to share your story,” the cashier, Barb, said as she handed me a maple bar on a napkin. My favorite. “Then I kept watching and realized it wasn’t something you’d ever agree to post, and I just got so mad that Tanner Carmichael duped us all. Curse his pretty face, am I right?”

The other women nodded in agreement.

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