Page 56 of Blindly Yours

I clench my jaw. “You needed something to keep your feet dry. The shoes you brought—”

“Are expensive garbage.” She attempts to complete my sentence. “Yes, I know Nate. But God, this is so weird. They’rehers.” She stands up and puts her hand on her head. “And why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?”

I sigh. This is a mess. “I was going to tell you before we met in person. Tonight, probably. I was just trying to give you a minute to come to terms with my marriage first.”

I haven’t moved from my spot, but Rose is starting to pace. She spins and looks at me with narrowed eyes. “It doesn’t make any sense. The person I’ve been talking to… You’re nothing like him.”

I shrug. “You’re nothing like her.”

Her eyes dart to my pocket and then she holds out her hand. “Let me see your phone.”

“Why?” I narrow my eyes right back at her.

“I need proof,” she replies simply, tapping her socked foot on the ground.

I sigh and dig my phone out. I open Blindly and hand it over.

She stares at it for a long moment, then her shoulders fall and she hands it back. “I’d like you to take me to my car now.”

I shake my head. “Roads aren’t cleared yet.”

She huffs and starts to the door. “I’ll walk then.”

Laughing this time, I return to drying the dishes. “You’re notwalkingto your car. It’s ten miles, and it’s probably buried past the exhaust. You’d poison yourself with carbon monoxide if you start it up.”

She stops and crosses her arms with a grumble.

I don’t say anything while I dry a long skewer. I’m too busy in my own head replaying all the personal things I told her online. They felt right being said to ASingleRose, but it feels wrong that this Rose knows them now.

“Why aren’t you more shocked?” she spits finally. “Did you know it was me?”

I stop and raise a brow. “Why in the world would I keep it from you if I knew?”

“Didyou know?” she repeats.

I sigh. I wish I did. “No.”

“Then why are you so nonchalant about all this?” Her arms are still crossed.

I slide the skewer into a drawer. “Because there’s nothing we can do about it. We accepted this risk when we joined the app.”

“Pft…” She shifts back and forth on her feet and stares pointedly at me. “I didn’t choose to take this risk. I didn’t even want to stay on the app, but then you—”

“I never made you stay,” I interrupt her firmly.

She chews on the inside of her cheek and holds my gaze. I think she might say something, but she eventually just shakes her head and rubs the bridge of her nose.

At this point, I’m mostly annoyed that my chance at getting back into the dating field has been postponed. I’ve been happier this week than I’ve been in a long time. And I really liked this girl. I haven’t opened up to anyone like that since Amber.

I gulp back the pain of her absence when it hits me again. It doesn’t stab me the same way it used to, but it still stings. My last night with her flashes across my mind. I’ll never forget the way she looked as she lay in her bed in hospice, so frail and tired. I remember watching the tears rim her eyes when she told me she wanted me to move on. She didn’t want to go, but she had such a beautiful confidence in her voice when she told me to find someone to love me, and to love Kara too.

I squeeze my eyes shut while I turn to dry another skewer. Rose is nothing like Amber. Amber grew up on a farm in Wisconsin. Her family barely had enough to get by. She could make a five-star meal from a bag of beans. She could change a tire even faster than me. She built the chicken coop in the backyard for Kara. She did thatafter her diagnosis. Because she knew Kara would need something to make her smile.

Rose doesn’t know how to cook, she wouldn’t even begin to know how to cope with my average salary, and she wouldn’t want to. And I can’t imagine ever seeing her get her hands dirty.

Amber wanted me to move on. But not with someone like Rose.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Rose says from behind me, and my eyes fly open because I’ve almost forgotten she’s still here.

---