Page 40 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

“Lettie, I’m bored out of my skull. I’ve been in that bed two days.” With a hand on her shoulder to keep my balance, I point to the living room. “Let’s watch something.”

“Sure. I’ll walk you to the couch, then check your temperature.”

I drape an arm around her shoulders. “You’re the best, Lettie. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for your help.”

“I’m happy to do it. Lilith has been amazing. She had people send over Powerade, and then she dropped off groceries. I can see why you love the ranch.”

Before sitting down, I bump my forehead to the top of her head. “Living here makes you part of the family, you know.”

Tears glisten in her eyes. “Someone once asked me what my ideal life would be like, and I mentioned that I loved the idea of having a found family. But I didn’t know how to find that.”

Now I’m really wondering how much I said, but I play it cool. “It found you.” I drop onto the sofa.

She gets the thermometer. “Open up.”

I follow instructions, and she slips it under my tongue.

“Yep. It’s climbing again.” Off she goes to get my drink and something to bring the fever down.

When she returns, I take the pills, then tap the couch. “Sit.”

Back when we were dating, we’d crash on the couch to watch movies. She’d sit at one end, and I’d toss a throw pillow in her lap and stretch out. And Lettie would play with my hair while we watched the movie.

Even before we started dating, Lettie was always physically affectionate, something my grandmother wasn’t. My grandmother took me in, taught me to crochet, and encouraged me to follow my dream of working on a ranch. But she rarely did more than pat me on the head, and I can count on one hand the number of times she did that. While I never doubted that she loved me, she was very closed off.

Lettie is the opposite of that.

When something was bothering me, I sought out Lettie. Just being near her calmed me in ways I couldn’t explain if I tried.

Today, I’m craving that kind of comfort.

Sadly, I don’t have any throw pillows. But thankfully, she’s got some built in cushion now. As soon as she sits down, I stretch out and rest my head on her thigh. “Pick whatever.”

“No preference?” She rests a hand on my hair.

“Nope.”

She scrolls through the movies on the streaming service. “What about this one? They are messaging each other online but don’t know it. It’s a classic romcom.You’ve Got Mail.”

“Fine by me.” If I didn’t say anything about chatting with Regretful-Raccoon, this is an odd coincidence. But other than exchanging messages, our life has nothing in common with the movie. I’m not some wealthy guy in a suit, and she doesn’t own a bookstore.

During the opening scenes, she starts playing with my hair, and I close my eyes. I may regret letting my walls down, but right now, I don’t care. I’m hitting pause on real life, all the hurt and hesitation, and pretending the breakup never happened. When I’m well, I’ll explain that we probably shouldn’t act like we’re dating.

* * *

After five daysof being sick, I’m finally feeling better. Fatigue is still an issue, but staying cooped up is not an option. And I can’t let the other guys keep picking up the slack.

I’m out of bed at the ungodly hour Lettie usually wakes up. The last three days, I’ve worried about her going to work and insisted she take my truck so that her car wasn’t there.

Today, I plan to drive her.

Wearing my pajama bottoms that I’d lived in for the last week, I walk out to the living room. The adjoining door is wide open, and I knock as I step into her side. “I’m up, Lettie, and feeling better. I’ll drive you in this morning.”

She doesn’t answer, and I peek down the hall.

“Lettie?”

A light comes on in her room. “Hey.”

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