Page 33 of Fragile Love (Fragile 3)
“I know you meant well, Andrew. And it makes me happy that you feel comfortable being honest with me.”
His face suddenly looked worn down. “I don’t want anything to come between us, either. Regardless of how it all ends up.”
“How what ends up?”
“You know,” he fidgeted with the end of his spoon, “whether you end up with Cayden or someone else.”
She tried to finish her soup, but the spoon seemed to weigh two tons. “Andrew,” she said, wishing the words didn’t have to come out of her mouth at all, “Cayden and I are working out. We went through a minor hiccup, that’s all. Long distance is really hard, but we managed to find a way to make it work.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“I’m sorry, Andrew.”
“I meant what I said, though.” Lillian saw that defensive wall of his start to go up. “What I said before. How I see you.”
“It’s probably a psychological thing, Andrew. You and Amelia and I were the three musketeers.”
“Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t change the fact that I meant it.” He faced her, and she saw the longing in his eyes. “I’m not trying to get you to break up with Cayden. Like I said, I wouldn’t want you to be heartbroken again. And I can see that you two really love each other. I’ve said that before.”
Lillian’s reply got lost in a jungle of things she wanted to say. They looked at each other, trying to find words in the thick silence between them. “It will always be Cayden, Andrew.” She desperately hoped the words were soft enough that his heart didn’t get scratched. “I will always love you and your parents as my family. You were all there for me when I had no one—from the very beginning.”
Andrew nodded, and looked at the floor.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Let’s finish eating. I’m serious about you being honest with me. It means a lot to me.”
It took him a while, but finally he straightened up. “Let’s finish. Sorry I interrupted the meal.”
“You didn’t. Don’t worry. What are your plans tonight?”
“Plans? Well, first I’m going to bar hop, and end the night walking by the river.”
“Wow. That was such dry humor I can’t even feel my tongue.”
“You’re welcome.” He picked up his bowl and drank the rest of his soup. “I was thinking we could watch a movie or something else brainless. Since I’m not being brainless enough already, you know.”
“Reading isn’t brainless. Don’t insult my books!”
“Fine, fine. I guess I just feel brainless since I’ve been moping around.”
“You can barely walk, Andrew. That’s hardly classified as moping around.”
“Would you stop countering all my arguments?” He gave her a little push. “I’m trying to be helpless here.”
“But you just said a few minutes ago that you aren’t helpless.”
“Oh, man!” he shouted jokingly, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m done. Even my humor is failing.”
“It’s not really failing. It’s just extra dry. Which is saying something.”
He paused. “Okay, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. Do you want any more soup?” She stood up and looked over into the pot. “It looks like there’s only a little left.”
“Nah, I’m okay. I’m not moving around enough to eat more than this.”
“Diva.”
“You need it more than I do.” He pointed all the way down her body. “I’m just kidding. You actually look really good, Lillian. Much healthier than before.”
