Page 82 of Fumbled Into Love

If I ever meet Savannah, I might punch her in the nose for the way she treated him.

“I’m sorry, I can get protective. His last girlfriend was…” She trails off.

“A horrible person and a fool. She never deserved him,” I declare, intense anger thrumming through my veins, and all my thoughts fall out of my mouth. “Who would get to know Deon and then treat him like that? I mean, sure, he has questionable ice cream taste and a scary relationship with a label maker, but he’s thoughtful and funny.”

I realize I’m blabbering, but it feelsso goodto get my feelings about Deon off my chest, and it only helps solidify the idea we’re a real couple.

“He buys me macarons,” I admit softly. I don’t know why the small gesture matters so much, but it does. It’s a luxury I rarely allow myself, but since I moved in with him, they’ve appeared in the fridge or on the counter when I have a long dayat GameChangers. “She never deserved his kindness or gentle soul.”

Diane and Nyla sit silent as my declaration hangs in the air. Perhaps blabbing all my inner thoughts wasn’t the best thing to do, but I did call Savannah a horrible person ten seconds ago, so it’s better than that.

I start to spiral, anxiety building, when Diane reaches out to clasp my hand between hers.

“He told you about her?” I nod. I’m sure there are parts of that relationship I don’t know, but what I do know is he was not treated the way he deserved to be. “He only wants to offer someone the world.”

“He shouldn’t have to offer anything but himself. Deon alone is enough.”

The admission tumbles from my lips.

It’s the truth, though.

I didn’t notice at first, but he does small, nearly unnoticeable things to make my life easier. My shoes are lined up in the mudroom in the morning, so they’re easy to find. There’s always creamer and sugar for my coffee. The laundry I forget in the washer is magically dried and folded neatly in the basket.

I always believed I wanted a loud love full of outlandish declarations, but if the soft, quiet love is full of days on the couch watching dating shows and running to the store to buy tampons, then I think that might be the type of love I want.

I’m beginning to dream of a gentle, peaceful love with Deon, and that is a dangerous hope to harbor.

“I was afraid he would never date again after Savannah cheated on him,” Nyla admits. I fight back a grimace. If only they knew. “But I’m happy he found someone who loves him as much as you do.”

The blood drains from my face.

I—

A foreign feeling lodges itself between my ribs, and I clamp down on the panic rising in my chest.

Freak out about it later, I tell myself.

So, with the cheeriest smile I can muster, I respond, “I’m happy I found him, too.”

CHAPTER 19

“My mom’s there, she’s kinda obsessed with you, I think I might be, too”

Golf On TV – Lennon Stella

Deon

Aclothing bomb went off in my once tidy bedroom. Nathalie launches an article of clothing over her shoulder as she digs through her suitcase, and I snatch it mid-air and neatly fold it with the rest of the clothing she’s tossed.

A small pile is forming on the edge of the bed.

Bottles clank together in a bag as she skips into the connecting bathroom and drops the bag onto the counter with a thud. I peek into the bathroom as she braids her hairaway from her face.

She’s been quiet since we got home, and I hate it. Hate the way unspoken words linger in the air, growing heavier and more tense every minute neither of us speaks.

Nathalie slips on her muumuu and perches at the end of my bed, awkwardly surveying the space.

“Your room is well decorated,” she comments, her first words since we got home. I’m unsure why she’s quiet, and I’m quickly entering a state of unease. When Savannah was upset, she would ignore me for days.

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