Page 58 of An Engagement Pact

Maybe they knew it already.

Savannah listens without interrupting. Esther mostly makes wordless, sympathetic sounds. Jim is still sitting in his easy chair, but he can hear too.

“I’m really sorry, Vicky,” Savannah says when I’m finally done with my story. “That’s so hard.”

I sniff and wipe my eyes and try to find my normal composure. Yes, this is real heartbreak. There’s no question about that. But I’ve always been strong and self-sufficient, so surely I can get through this without completely falling apart.

At the moment, I can’t imagine even getting to tomorrow.

“He really didn’t say anything when you asked for an explanation?”

“No.” I shake my head, wiping away a couple more tears. “Nothing. He was upset, I think, but he wouldn’t open up or say anything.”

Savannah frowns. “Well, I can see you took it as his final answer, but there could be more than one reason for not saying anything.”

“I know. He could be confused or nervous or upset or whatever, but the point is he... he never says anything. He’s even told me that’s been a problem for him in the past. He can’t get close to people.” It’s horrible how clear it all is to me—exactly what happened over the past hour or two. “He said he always gets to this roadblock and he never finds a way through it. That’s where we are now. We’re at the roadblock. And he... he doesn’t see a way past it.”

“Oh my God,” Jim mutters from the other room. “Give the poor guy a break!”

“What?” I’m more surprised than anything else by the outburst. I get up and move into the living room so I can see my uncle. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the poor bastard is obviously in love with you. Anyone can see that.”

I gulp over a surge of intense hope mingled with confusion. “Wh-what?” I turn toward Savannah and Esther, who both followed me into the living room.

“That’s sure what it looked like to us,” Esther confirms.

Savannah nods slowly.

“So maybe,” Jim continues, “you could give the poor guy more than a few minutes to get the words said.”

I’m bombarded with feelings—hope, fear, bewilderment, annoyance, joy—one right after another. So intensely I sway on my feet.

“Look, I’m the last person in the world to be patient with weak-willed men who wait around for things to be made easy for them,” Savannah says in her wry, clever voice. “But Dad might be a little bit right. I’ve always thought that Dan was kind of like Lance used to be. A really good guy in almost every way but having no experience with being vulnerable in relationships because there was always a distance with his family. Lance and I made even more of a mess of things than you and Dan have if you want to know the truth, and part of the way we fixed it is that we both had to take a step forward. I’ve always been independent like you. I’ve never been very trusting, particularly with spoiled rich kids. So I had to... I had to learn to trust while he had to learn to open up.”

I’m breathing raggedly, listening with every cell of my body. “I... I thought I had.” My voice wobbles because I’m not defending myself. I’m recognizing that everything I’ve gone through in the past three months might not have been obvious for the rest of the world to see.

Including Dan.

“Did you lethimknow that?” Savannah asked. Very soft. Almost gentle.

“I... I don’t know.”

I assumed my feelings and what I want out of our relationship was obvious to him, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he’s as much in the dark about it as I am about his feelings.

With a tidal wave of urgency, I run to grab my phone on the kitchen table. I tap out in a blurry rush,I’m sorry! Maybe you didn’t already know, but I do want this to be real.

I hit Send on the text before I can second-guess myself or work myself into a panic at putting my heart out for Dan to stomp on if he wants.

“I told him,” I say with a harsh gasp, looking up from my phone.

“Good,” Savannah replies. “You did all you could. So now we’ll just see.”

We all wait in silence as I stare fixedly down at my phone screen, hoping for a reply or at least the three dots indicating he’s responding.

A text doesn’t come through at all.

What happens instead is that there’s a sudden pounding on the front door less than a minute after I sent the message.

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