Page 35 of I Can't Help It

I sit back down in my chair with a curse.

Me: The place is nice, and no souvenir yet.

He sends me a crying emoji.

Wyatt: Well, we discussed it, and Carter wants a souvenir too. Keep that in mind, yeah?

Carter would be his one and only nephew, Maren’s six-year-old son. Wyatt spoils the kid relentlessly, so it makes sense that he told Carter I’d get him a souvenir, but I probably would’ve gotten him one anyway. I’m kind of like the “bonus uncle” since I don’t have any siblings to give me nephews or nieces.

Me: I can definitely guarantee a souvenir for Carter.

Wyatt: AND. ME.

Wyatt: Don’t play with my emotions.

Wyatt: Oh! One of my coworkers was hinting to me that she’s single, but I told her I’m not dating right now.

Wyatt: If you want her number though, let me know, and I’ll put in a good word for you.

I very much do not want her number, which he already knows.

Besides, I already got the number I wanted.

Me: I’m good, Wy. Maybe you’ll end up changing your mind.

I can’t imagine being able to move on from Ava, but I need him to do exactly that. He needs to get over Ava for my own mental sanity.

Wyatt: Eh, probably not.

Wyatt: I’ll hit you up later, man. Trista is giving me the evil eye because I’m not watching every freaking second of Carter’s basketball game.

He sends me an eye-roll emoji, and I leave the conversation at that.

I’ve got more important things to deal with than Wyatt being bitter about Trista like he always is. But as much as I want to check on Ava, I think I need to give her some space.

I think we both need some space.

So, I finish the rest of my salad and try to ignore the loneliness that’s creeping in.

I miss her.

We haven’t even been apart for an hour yet, and I’m already anxious to be around her again.

Hoping to distract myself, I aimlessly roam the first floor until I come across a small library nook. The room has four wooden bookcases against the wall that meet at a corner, and there’s two armchairs with a round table between them. I’m not a huge reader, but the atmosphere is too peaceful and inviting to resist.

This will be the perfect escape.

Thirty minutes later, I find myself flipping through a book about colors and their deeper meanings. The “green” section is where I linger and pay close attention.

I wonder why.

Green is the color of growth, balance, and renewal. It represents hope for a better future. Green is a soothing color that can help ease anxiety—

“Ease anxiety?” I ask out loud. Obviously, the person who wrote this book has never seen Ava’s eyes.

“SHH!”

Oh. That’s right. I forgot about the elderly lady who came in here a few minutes ago to do some reading.

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