Page 53 of Check the Halls
“She’s a handful,” Maddy laughs. “She’s taking up rock climbing.”
“Nice! Are you going home for Christmas or is she coming here?”
“I’m not sure what the plan is yet. She may be going toan all-inclusive this year with some friends. But she is planning to visit in early December so we can…” she trails off.
I glance at her. “So you can do what?”
Maddy fidgets with the ring on her finger. “So we can go wedding dress shopping.”
The silence in the car is heavy. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. Of course she would do that. Because shopping for a wedding dress is a completely normal thing for an engaged woman to do. And Maddy is an engaged woman.
I should tell her that’s great. Maybe make a joke, something to lighten the mood, but I can’t force myself to do it.
I still haven’t come up with the words when I pull in front of her building a few minutes later.
“Thank you for driving me home,” she says quietly.
“Thanks for coming to the game.”
She climbs out of the car and starts to say goodnight when I interrupt her. “Hey, Madness?”
“Yes?” She looks so damn beautiful in the soft glow of the street lamp.
“Don’t get discouraged about work, okay? You’re doing a great job. Just trust your gut and believe in yourself. You’ve got this.”
Her blue eyes widen and she swallows. “Thanks, Ben.”
“Anytime.”
I watch her walk away wondering if it will ever get easier, but knowing deep down it won’t.
CHAPTER 18
MADDY
“Your dinner’s getting cold,” Derek says with a mouth full of falafel, not looking up from his laptop.
I told him I would be a bit late getting home today, but I guess he didn’t take that into account when he placed the Skip The Dishes order. Letting my bag fall from my shoulder, I slip off my shoes and join him at the table.
“I got you shawarma.”
“Thank you.” The bright pink take out bag with Rashed’s stamped on it tells me it’s not from the place Ben brought me lunch from two weeks ago. I tear open the white paper wrapping and peek inside, immediately spotting the pickle. My jaw hardens.
It’s not a big deal. I’ve been picking these things off my food for years. Still, Derek knows that I hate them. Anytime we eat out, I request that they’re left off. Would it kill him to order it without them for once? Ben seemed to have no trouble remembering my distaste for them.
I start removing the pink spears from my sandwichand lay them on a napkin. Derek rolls his eyes; he thinks it’s childish. I ignore it, as usual.
“How was your day?” I ask him, because I always do.
He finally sets down his phone, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Fine. Phillips is dragging his feet on the Bardin account. It should have been resolved by now.”
I nod and take a bite of my tepid supper. It’s definitely not as good as the shawarma Ben brought me. God, why can’t I go ten seconds without thinking about Ben? There are so many other things I should be thinking about.
Like how I received the Save The Date cards for the wedding but have no desire to send them to our guest list.
Like how Derek and I haven’t spent time together in more than a week and I haven’t missed him once. Like how I feel more like myself when I’m with Ben than I have in ages.
“That sounds frustrating.” I finally answer, just to say something.
