Page 25 of Breakaway to You

That, and I really wanted to know all the details about his personal life. If I had to justify my reasoning, I would.

“Tell me what I need to make chicken noodle soup,” I said, catching him off-guard with my sudden subject change.

Pulling open the fridge door, I looked back over my shoulder and waited for him to instruct me.

“The carrots and celery should be in the left drawer,” he said, his body more relaxed now that we were talking about soup.

I reached for those and set them on the counter.

He told me everything else I needed, and once all the ingredients were laid out, he rattled off directions. I washed the carrots and celery, placing them in front of him so he could chop while I worked on the rest.

I shouldn’t have thought he looked so good chopping celery and carrots, but I couldn’t help it. A man cutting vegetables and cooking was a definite turn on. I’d seen the reels on social media about men doing household chores to attract women, and I’d just chuckled at the exaggeration. But now witnessing Zeke in the kitchen, even with a swollen knee, it was very attractive.

While I cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces, I nonchalantly picked up our conversation about the mysterious woman.

“So did you meet her in college?” He’d told me last weekend he’d left behind no girlfriend in Glacier Grove.

I kept my focus on the chicken but heard his knife pause for a second before he answered. “Yes. We met sophomore year.”

“Did you two have a class together or something?”

“No.” He let out a soft chuckle. “She was a figure skater. My friends and I thought it would be fun to go to the local ice rink to show off, and there she was doing all the fancy skating stuff.”

His voice almost sounded wistful and had my stomach twisting in a knot.

“Anyway, she yelled at us for getting in her way and for being obnoxious…that was justified. I apologized and ended by asking her out.”

I stopped cutting and looked at him. “And she said yes?”

He laughed. “No. She told me to get lost.”

“Let me guess,” I said, resuming my cutting. “You didn’t.”

“Nope, I didn’t,” he smiled. “I challenged her to a race from one side of the rink to the other. Told her that if she won, we’d leave, and if I won, she had to go out with me.” He was still smiling, caught up in the memory.

I didn’t have any reason to feel hurt by his obviously fond memories of this woman, but a deep sense of sadness washed over me. Whether it was for him or for myself, I wasn’t sure.

“So you won?” I asked.

“No, she won.” His smile turned nostalgic. “But then she told me she would be at a nearby coffee shop the next morning before she skated away. I met Anna the next day and the next, and then it wasn’t long until we were a couple.”

“Wow.” I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “Sounds like one of those cute rom-com stories.”

“Yeah, well, it definitely didn’t end like one.” The happiness that had been on his face recounting the story faded, replaced by a stony expression.

Again, I wanted to push, to know why things had ended between them, but I had a feeling I had pushed as far as he would let me for today. I was beginning to learn with Zeke that he would only share so much, and somehow I knew that we’d hit that limit.

Several different emotions swirled inside me like a tornado. Yes, there was a part of me that was envious of Zeke’s obvious attachment to Anna, but as I let the jealousy flow, I could tell it came from my desire to have had a relationship with a man who had felt that way about me. I couldn’t imagine any of my exes thinking back on our time so fondly.

Jordan had been the first man I’d thought I had been in love with. All the other guys before him had been more infatuations or friendships. I think that was why, when things had ended between Jordan and me, it had hurt so much. Over time, I’d realized I didn’t miss Jordan as much as I missed what I thought we’d had.

And with that two-pronged jealousy winding its way around me, a blanket of sadness seemed to be draped across my shoulders. I wanted the kind of love Zeke seemed to have had with Anna so long ago. Except I had no personal experience to prove it even existed. Between my own failed relationships, my mom walking out on my dad, and now Zeke’s loss of someone he’d cared about so much that he hadn’t had a serious relationship since, it was evident that love was a figment of a dreamer’s imagination.

Remaining single seemed the only fool-proof way to keep from hoping—and to keep from getting hurt. It had been working well for me so far. Once the initial hurt had passed after my breakup with Jordan, I’d been happier than I’d been in a long time. My job brought me joy. My sister brought me joy. My life just how it was now brought me joy. No need to ruin a good thing. Zeke was a good-looking guy and I enjoyed spending time with him, but that wasn’t going to tempt me to derail my well laid plans.

I would finish making chicken noodle soup with him, go back home, and not think about him again until our next physical therapy session.

Sounded easy enough.

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