Page 106 of Just One Moment

Scramblingto grab the envelope,Itip out its contents.Whatfalls out is tiny, butI’dknow that face anywhere.

Aphotograph ofGrahamlooks up at me, cut into an oval shape.Aperfect fit for my locket.Thecold metal is cold to the touch, but onceIslip the photo inside, it feels warm against my thumping heart.

Ifall ontothe mattress, clutching the letter to my chest.

He’strying.

“Quinn!”Boothhollers as he walks through the door of the bakery.

Ihaven’t reopened yet.Thenew display fridge should arrive later this week andDexis refitting a new glass pane tomorrow.Theboard covering the front does an awful jobof keeping out the frosty morning air, butIwanted to bake something to distract me, even ifIcan’t sell it.

“Hey,Booth.Coffee?”Iraise a cup toward him.

“Wouldlove one.Thanks.”Hissmile is bright.It’sgood to see him, butI’mgrateful he doesn’t shareGraham’seye or hair color.

Ifix us both an extra-hot drink and we settle on one of the tables, quick to avoid sitting at the tableIonce declared asourstoGraham.

It’suseless avoiding reminders of him.He’severywhere.

“Thanksfor meeting with me.I’msorry to rush this, the restaurant is slammed today.Ilooked at your prices and honestly, they’re too low.”Heslides a printed version of the price listIemailed him afterThanksgiving, now annotated in messy red handwriting.Hejabs a finger onto the paper. “Thisis whatI’llpay you.I’mkeeping our current supplier on until the new year.Getback on your feet, but thenIwant a regular order of sourdough and brioche buns.Soundgood?”

Iblink at him slowly. “Whatdo you mean it’s too low?Youdon’t want a trial run?Or…?”

WhyamIarguing with him?

“Youraccountant put in a pretty good word with me.I’veseen how hard you work.I’msold.Plus, we’re going to be family one day, so why wouldIwant to work with anyone but my future sister-in-law?”Hestands abruptly and shivers. “Fuck.It’scold in here.”

I’mstill blushing from his comment about me being his future sister-in-law. “Idid offer to meet you at the restaurant.”

“Yeah, butIdidn’t think you’d want to read this with an audience.”Hepulls an envelope from his pocket, and in the next beat,I’mpulled into his arms. “Thankyou for helping my brother see himself.Forloving him for the exact reasons we do.”

Hereleases me andIbite my lip to keep the tears at bay. “Ishe okay?”

“Heis.Missesyou like crazy, but he’s working on himself.”Afteranother charming smile and quick hug, he dashes out of the building, shouting, “Seeya,Quinn,” over his shoulder.

Itear through the paper the moment the door closes behind him.

Thedate at the top of the page readsOctober13.Aftersome quick math,Irealize what day that was and whatI’mholding.

It’sa torn-out page fromGraham’sjournal.

Yesterdayshe told me her favorite color was yellow.Howno one has ever given this woman flowers before is a crime, butIlove thatIwas the first person to do it.Ihope she likes flowers because she’s going to be getting a lot of them now.

Iwas sure she was weirded out or angry at how we left things last time.IwishI’djust told her thatI’dsaved her number and had spent months typing out a message to her.

It’sfunny how after just a few interactionsIfeel comfortable around her.Shemakes me nervous, but maybe it’s a good type of nervous.

Ilove the random things that come out of her pretty mouth.

Therewas no controlling the blush when she saidIwas handsome, but what surprised methe most was thatIsmiled.That’ssomethingIhaven’t done a lot of with people outside of my family.

I’mstill shocked she’s even considering being my fake girlfriend.

Ireally hope she agrees to this, but if she doesn’t,IhopeIcan find a way to keep seeing her.

Tearsspill onto the pages, soIbring the paper to rest against my lips, not wanting to smudge his words.

Iremember that day so clearly.Thebizarreness of it all.Howhe timidly told me about buying flowers for his mother and sister after his dad passed.

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