Page 43 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
Silence met my words, and I glanced over to find him gaping at me, his eyes wide.
“Did you . . .”
“Tell them you were knocked out on your couch? No. I did say you had the flu and apologized for the last-minute cancellation.”
“Right.”
I stirred the soup so it would heat all the way through. “Your, ah, dad also texted. I swear I didn’t open it on purpose,” I added before he freaked out. “I was in the middle of replying to Felix when the message came in.”
“Remind me to change my passcode,” he said loud enough for me to overhear.
“Hey!” I glared at him. “I could have messed things up for you big time but I didn’t. A little appreciation would be nice.”
He had the decency to look rueful. “Sorry. Thank you for handling my clients.”
“You’re welcome. It might be a good idea to get an assistant. Especially since you’re juggling two jobs.”
“And soon, a dissertation.”
My mouth fell open. “No way. How are you going to do all that at the same time?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Time management. And an assistant that I have yet to hire.”
“Uh huh. I could never.” Ladling soup into a bowl, I placed it on a saucer along with a spoon and some crackers. I brought it to the coffee table, mindful not to spill anything on his rug.
Gabe maneuvered himself into a sitting position, wincing as he moved. I propped up the cushion behind him.
“Thanks again, Luna,” he told me. “I appreciate it.”
“Sure.” I reached for the bowl, but he shook his head.
“I’ve got it,” he said as he reached for it himself. He carefully held the bowl in front of him and scooped a spoonful of soup, blowing on it before he ate.
“Is it okay? Not too hot or too salty?”
“It’s just right.”
“Good.” I pulled the armchair closer to him just in case and sat.
“You seem like you’ve done this before.”
I fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “I don’t have Ate and Mama’s training, but I helped take care of Lola at home. I learned from her nurses at the hospital, and Mama taught me a bit too.”
“What was it like,” he asked, “taking care of your grandmother?”
The old emotions swelled up inside me again. My words came out unchecked. “Hard. Painful.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his gaze steady on mine.
I swallowed. “I’m not.” Looking past him, I recalled Lola’s hand wrapped around mine. How she thanked me for taking care of her. “I’m glad I was able to do that for her.”
“I’m sure you made her happy.”
“I hope so,” I whispered. Those months after Lola passed, I wondered if I’d done enough for her. If I’d made her feel loved the way she always made me feel. The not knowing haunted me so many nights when I cried in bed, trying not to be too loud so my brother wouldn’t hear.
Liquid dropped on my hands, and I cringed at the realization that I was crying in front of Gabe. “Sorry,” I said as I wiped my face with trembling fingers.
“No,I’msorry for making you sad.”
