Page 109 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Blythe pinched the bridge of her nose. “When you were with Carly, did you see a future with her? Did you think about your life together down the road?”

He frowned. “Not really. But we first started dating in college. We were young.”

“Well, you’re not young anymore, old man, and you still didn’t make plans because you weren’t really in it for the long haul. Elliott or no Elliott, you’d have figured that out. Carly’s just lashing out because you caught her off guard, and maybe she’s a little jealous because she’s human. I think if you let it sit for a bit, things will blow over.”

“Maybe.” He hoped she was right.

“Do you see a future with Elliott?”

If a future with Elliott meant lounging on opposite ends of the couch reading and swapping books until they were too old to see, then yes. Running together, maybe training for a few 10Ks and comparingtimes as they moved up in age groups? Yes. Getting a house with a yard, planting trees and flowers, maybe adopting another dog or two to fill their house with love and laughter? Definitely.

Still waking up next to her well after her hair had turned gray and lines had begun framing her eyes? He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.

His chest tightened. “I could picture it almost from the moment I met her.”

“Then I never want to hear you compare yourself with Dad again. He doesn’t see past the next gala with these women. He’s constantly thinking ahead, planning his next move and what he needs to change in order to stay on top. If that means a new relationship, so be it. If something gets hard or doesn’t fit what he needs, he won’t hang around. Dad’s instinct is to run away. Yours is to lean in and ask how you can help. If Dad had been in your shoes, he’d have broken things off with Elliott the second it looked like he’d have to face Carly. That kind of drama and responsibility-taking isn’t his style, and no woman is worth a slice of his pride. But you faced it head-on and had the difficult conversation because what you have with Elliott is worth it. You’re worth it, okay? You’re worthy of her because you’re willing to fight for her. Even when things get tough.”

He slid his hands down his thighs to his knees, letting her words sink in. It made sense, and he wanted to believe her. Wanted to have the same confidence his sister seemed to have that he was a good man and would always do his best to do the right thing.

“I want to hear you say it,” Blythe said in the don’t-talk-back tone she used on her son. “Say ‘I’m not like Dad.’”

He squinted at her. “I don’t think—”

“Say it.”

God, sometimes she was terrifying. “I’m not like Dad.”

“Now, I want you to believe it.”

“You can’t make me do that one.”

She tilted her head, regarding him with the same hazel eyes he knew reflected back at her. “You will. It might take time, but something tells me this thing with Elliott will prove you’ll be a one-woman man for the rest of your life. You’ll look back on this conversation and whatever fear you’re letting take hold of you and laugh. You’ll wonder how you were ever such a dumbass.”

He stared at her, unblinking. “Jeez.”

“And I’ll say I told you so.”

She would, too. His sister never passed up an opportunity to rub being right in someone’s face. That reminded him: he couldn’t wait to witness the cheesecake showdown between her and Elliott. Because if Blythe was right, which she usually was, and he could convince Elliott to forgive him for ghosting her this weekend, that conversation was definitely in the imminent future.

He stood up and hugged her. “Thanks, sis.”

“For . . . ?”

He laughed and lightly pushed her away. “For letting me barge into your workplace, drink your coffee, and lay my deepest fears at your feet. For helping me see the big picture, and for not laughing at me.”

“I laughed on the inside, but only because you’re being such a lovesick fool.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“It’s about time, brother. Now get out of here. I’ve got work to do.” She shooed him away. “Get Ian a new coffee so I don’t have to hear him complain tomorrow.”

He complied, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. He tossed an “I love you” over his shoulder as he reentered the café, looking at his phone screen.

The rush of relief when he saw Elliott’s name was palpable. He smiled and swiped to answer but stopped short when someone on the other line spoke first.

“Where thefuckare you?”

Chapter Thirty-Two

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