Page 15 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
Edith blew her bangs off her forehead. “Well, if you really want to know—”
“Babe!”
Edith flinched at the outburst. She turned toward the voice and recognized his girlfriend from the diner.
“I tried going to your house and you weren’t there. I can’t believe I ran into you here. Aren’t you supposed to be working out with Lance? I didn’t think you even liked coffee.”
The man stared at his girlfriend as if he didn’t recognize her—or perhaps like she was a piece of abstract art he would never understand—before shaking his head. “I canceled. Aren’t you supposed to be with Chad? I didn’t expect to see you again until next week.”
Edith made a show of glancing at her wrist, hoping nobody noticed she wasn’t wearing a watch, and stood. “I’m just going to... yeah.”
She scurried away, grabbed the plant, shoved the last bite of scone into her mouth, and dashed out the exit, vowing from henceforth that not only was she going to eat healthy,but she wasn’t going to spend another second thinking about Mr. Dreamy Blue Eyes, aka PaulHubba-Hubba and UnavailableNewman.
Unfortunately, she had a feeling that vow was going to be much tougher to swallow than the scone.
CHAPTER SIX
“Who was that?” Angela asked, plunking her purse on the table. Coffee splattered over the rim of his mug.
“Uh...” Henry sopped up the coffee with a napkin. How did he still not know her name? “Not sure.”
Angela narrowed her gaze for a moment as if assessing the truth in that statement. He must have passed her test. She shrugged, then flopped into the chair across from him. “Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I guess not.” Henry tried focusing his attention on Angela and not the woman walking away. She waved goodbye to Julie, scratched Chester behind the ears, leaned over to grab something from the floor—
“Are you listening?”
“Huh? Yeah. Of course.” Henry forced his gaze on Angela. “You said, ‘You’ll never believe this. They loved us.’”
Angela’s fingers flew across the screen of her phone. “Of course they loved us. They want to fly us on their private jet—their private jet, Henry!—to Chicago.” She held up her phone and showed him a picture of a jet.
Henry murmured some sort of acknowledgment.
“If everything goes like we think it will, they’re going to fly us out to their villa—I told you that they have a villa, right? It’s gorgeous!” She swiped across several pictures. “I bet these don’t even do it justice. They want us to photographeverythingleading up to the wedding. I leave in like, two minutes.I’m only here to grab some coffee before we fly out. I’m glad I was able to see you. Oh, by the way, what did you want to talk about?” She looked up from her phone. “You sent me a message yesterday that said we needed to talk.”
Oh yeah. Yesterday he was going to break up with her. Then this morning he wasn’t.
“Henry?” Angela said, thumbs paused above her phone. “Was there something you needed to tell me? Because there’s actually something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
He searched out the window, gaining a glimpse of blonde hair under a flash of red.Forget her.He looked back to Angela. “Why don’t you start?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but—” Angela dropped her phone in her purse. It must be serious if she was putting her phone away. “I think we should use this time apart to figure out where our relationship is going. I’m not saying this to make you panic.”
Henry shook his head. No panic here. If anything, a weird sense of relief.
“I know you want to get married and start a family. I do too.”
Okay, a bit of panic now. “I’m listening,” he said, aiming to keep his voice steady.
“For some reason it’s never felt like we’ve been on the same page.” Angela stood and grabbed her purse. “That’s why I think we just need to take this time to regroup, come back together, and decide whether to get married or break up. Sound like a plan?”
“Uh, sure.” Get married or break up. Nothing life-altering about that decision.
“Great.” Angela stood next to his table a moment. Henry didn’t know whether she was waiting for a kiss or a high five. How did a man say goodbye to a woman who was soon to become either his fiancée or his ex-girlfriend?
Her phone pinged, saving him from having to do anything. “That’s probably Chad, wondering where I am. Bye, Henry.” She patted his shoulder and spun away with phone in hand, heels clacking, fingers tapping.
Hours later, Henry sat in his blue Chevy pickup. He rolled the front windows down to catch a breeze before cutting the engine. The clouds from this morning had moved on about the same time Angela had. He tried not to read too much into that.
