Page 135 of Cooking Up My Comeback
I stare at him, this man who’s somehow managed to get everything completely wrong while trying to be considerate.
“You’re an idiot,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“Brett Walker, you’re an absolute idiot.”
“I was trying to be thoughtful?—”
“You were trying to make decisions for me without consulting me. The same way Chad used to do.”
That gets his attention. He turns to face me fully, eyes sharp. “I’m nothing like Chad.”
“Aren’t you? Deciding what I can handle, what I need, what’s best for me without actually asking what I want?”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Protecting you!”
“From what?”
“From me!” The words explode out of him, raw andfrustrated. “From falling for someone who might not stick around when things get complicated. From trusting someone who might decide you’re too much work.”
And there it is. The real fear underneath all his careful distance.
“You think I’m going to leave,” I say quietly.
“I think you’re smart enough to realize you have options now. The restaurant’s going to be successful. You’re building something amazing. You don’t need a grumpy contractor who comes with baggage and an ex-fiancée who died.”
“Brett—”
“You could have anyone, Amber. Someone without all the mess.”
I step closer, close enough to see the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to hide behind his protective walls.
“You want to know what I realized when Chad was saying those awful words?”
He nods, jaw tight.
“That I didn’t care what he thought. For the first time in my adult life, someone else’s opinion of me didn’t matter because I finally know who I am.” I reach up to cup his face in my hands. “And who I am is someone who loves you. All of you. The grumpy parts, the protective parts, the parts that think coffee table wrestling counts as wedding entertainment.”
“Amber—”
“I’m not going anywhere, Brett. Not because I need you, but because I choose you. There’s a difference.”
“What if you change your mind?”
“What if you do?”
“I won’t.”
“Then trust me to know my own heart.”
For a moment, we simply study each other. The careful distance finally cracking, letting the real Brett emerge from behind his protective walls.
“I’ve been an idiot,” he says quietly.
