Page 8 of Blurred Love

I shrug my shoulders because even though I did apologize, I still don’t feel like it was enough. “Yeah, I did.”

She nods her head. “Buuuut?”

I shrug again. “I don’t know. He said he forgave me, but it doesn’t excuse the fact that I was rude and offensive.”

A big smile forms on her face. “He?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that.”

She points to my face. “If it’s not like that, then why is your face so red?”

I cover my cheeks with my hands and feel the heat radiating off my skin, but I still deny it. “It’s not.”

She laughs. “Okay, well, you did something wrong, you apologized, and he forgave you. Have you seen him since?”

I shake my head.

“Well, when will you see him again?”

I put my hand to my stomach and breathe in. “I don’t know.”

She nods. “Well, I guess you let fate handle it.”

“Fate,” I repeat.

She smiles. “Yep. If it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

I’m about to correct her and explain that it’s not like that. It’s not like anything is going on between Colter and me, but before I can, Teresa walks up to the truck carrying trays of pastries. “Morning,” she grumbles.

April and I look at each other and laugh. We all know not to talk to Teresa until she’s had her morning coffee. I take the trays from her and gesture to the coffee in the sterno that I brought out earlier. “Drink up.”

She moans as she drinks the coffee, and both April and I laugh. The rest of the packing is done in silence, and it’s not long before Teresa and I are on the road to set up at the Heroes Rehab Center.

The whole time we’re setting up, I’m looking for Colter. Midmorning, Brooklyn shows up, and we chat for a while. I almost ask her about Colter. I’m sure she knows who he is since he works for her husband, but in the end, I decide not to. I don’t want it to get back to Colter that I’m talking about him.

By midafternoon, we’re slowing down, and when there’s only another two hours left, I finally realize that he’s not coming. If he wanted to see me, he would be here by now.

When Abby shows up, I try not to let her know how disappointed I am. “Hey,” I say timidly. Even though our conversation ended okay the last time, I’m still unsure how she is going to react today.

She picks at her chocolate croissant and moans when she takes a bite. “This is so good.”

I sit down across from her at the picnic table.

She leans forward after she swallows. “So?”

I don’t have to ask, because I can guess what she wants to know. “I texted him and sent him a voice message. I apologized. A few times actually.”

She nods. “And?”

I shrug, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me when in fact it’s all I’ve been able to think about. “He texted me back that he forgave me.”

She nods, expecting more, and I shake my head. “That’s it.”

“Darn it,” she exclaims. “I thought for sure…”

She doesn’t finish, so I have to ask. “You thought what?”

She shrugs. “Never mind. I’m sorry, Poppy.”

---