Page 60 of Still The One

Foster laughs. ‘And that’s bad because…?’

‘Imagine the gossip mill running wild with that one,’ I continue, poking at my lo mein absent-mindedly. ‘I had colleagues coming up to me all day offering condolences and well wishes for your “speedy recovery”. Some even felt the need to remind me that they thought the wedding had been canceled.’

Foster is holding a Chinese takeout box in his injured hand, and his chopsticks drop to the floor, a potsticker falling with them.

‘Shit. Because of the canceled engagement?’ he asks, leaving the chopsticks and potsticker where they are and picking up the next one with his fingers.

‘Yep. Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it, but today reminded me of all the drama and gossip thatthatchaos created.’

‘I’m sorry I accidentally ruined your day,’ he says.

‘You didn’t,’ I say. ‘That was all Genevieve.’

Foster sits back on the couch, his eyes fixed on me, contemplating my previous words. I can see the gears turning in his head, trying to process this new information about my past – a piece of me he doesn’t know. After a moment of silence, he leans forward, places his takeout container on the coffee table and then reaches out to gently hold my hand.

I can’t help but be taken aback by his kindness and understanding. Most people hear about a broken engagement and want all the details. Foster isn’t just any friend who happened to come over for dinner. There’s a warmth between us that feels different, comforting in a way I hadn’t expected.

‘Honestly, Fost, you’re the one who has made my day better,’ I point out, offering him a warm smile. ‘This’ – I gesture to theChinese takeout spread out on the coffee table between us – ‘is a hundred times better than anything Cayden ever did for me. And your company is an added bonus.’

Foster’s face lights up at my words, a genuine grin breaking through his initial concern. ‘You know me, I aim to please.’ He winks playfully, grabbing a potsticker with his fingers and popping it into his mouth. ‘Happy to be the better ex over Cayden, any day.’

I laugh, not realizing he’d deemed him a competitor he needed to beat. Why does he want to be better? We haven’t been together for five years. Our conversation dies down a bit and one question is running through my head. The same one I thought of when Chris asked if I still loved him.

‘Do you ever wonder “what if”?’ I ask.

‘About what?’

‘Us?’

He pauses mid-chew, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of surprise and contemplation. It’s as if my question has struck a chord, unlocking a flood of emotions within him. I know because I’ve been feeling it since I woke up this morning.

He sets down the next potsticker, his expression serious yet tender. ‘I’ve thought about it more times than I can count,’ he admits softly, his gaze never leaving mine. ‘I mean, who wouldn’t wonder “what if” when it comes to someone like you? We were perfect together – you can’t deny that.’

My heart skips a beat at his words as I can feel the raw honesty behind them. The weight of half-spoken truths hangs heavy in the air, and there’s a vulnerability in Foster’s eyes that draws me in like a magnet. I’d like to deny I’ve done the same but the dream that awoke me this morning says otherwise.

‘We wer—’ I try to answer, but a sharp rap echoes through the room, cutting through my sentence mid-word and causing us to look toward the door.

I glance at Foster with confusion. ‘Who is it?’ I call out in a sweet and gentle voice.

‘Matty.’ His voice booms through the heavy wooden door. ‘I brought Foster’s shit.’

‘Now?’ Foster asks, as if the timing is just wrong.

‘He brought your shit?’ I ask.

‘Oh, right, I meant to tell you, Matty’s stopping by tonight so I can return Phil’s wardrobe. I didn’t realize it would be in the middle ofthatconversation, but here we are.’

‘It’s not ideal, but when has anything about us been? Also, I’m going to be sad to see the floral prints go,’ I say, setting my Chinese container on the table and answering the door.

‘Ha ha,’ Foster retorts with a heavy dose of sarcasm. ‘We’re continuing this conversation later…’

‘Maybe…’ I say, pulling open the door and allowing Matty in.

‘Hello, Eve.’ He halts just inside, a smile growing on his face when he spots Foster. ‘Whoa, those leggings are stunning, sweetie,’ he exclaims with a laugh. ‘You look like a combination of The Flash and a rose petal princess.’

Foster rolls his eyes. ‘Now, do you see why I called him? I’m not a floral guy.’

‘I dunno,’ Matty says. ‘I think maybe we should do a floral print on your next set of riding gear. You wear it well,’ he remarks with a laugh.

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