Jane quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah? You wish you never felt what it was like to kiss Grant?”
Did I wish I never had that memory? I replayed each kiss and touch. Nope. Even if I was old and single, I would want to remember each brush of his fingers, every kiss.
“Do you wish you never knew how it felt to be held by him? Or the way he validated you and made you feel seen?”
I never wanted to forget that.
I pinched my lips and shook my head. “No.”
Even if it was over, I never wanted to forget the way he made me feel. How he made me believe it was possible to be myself and be loved at the same time.
“Emma, do you think he is worth fighting for or not?” Jane grabbed my shoulders. “Love is like the best piece of cake in the world, and cake like that does not have a shelf life. If you don’t take it, someone else will.”
I bit my bottom lip. I did love cake. I wanted things to work between Grant and me, but I also wanted to make sure he was okay, even if we weren’t.
“Maybe?”
Jane pulled me into a tight hug. “This is perfect!”
“Whoa.” I held my hands up, “I don’t know, I’m still thinking.”
Jane raised her brows. “Oh, this is happening, and we will make you look so irresistible that he will instantly remember why he misses you or regret that he doesn’t deserve you.”
I took a deep breath and steeled my shoulders. I nodded my head in affirmation. Yes. I would go see him. I would see if he was okay, and then face whether we were done or not.
Jane broughtme my favorite high waisted jeans and red top, the ones that showed off my curves in the best way. I refreshed my makeup and hair and rushed out of work.
It was a Wednesday, but most of the Kismet activities didn’t start until after 7 p.m., and it was just past five. I pulled into the parking lot of The Brick House. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs and slowly letting it out.
It would be worth the pain and discomfort to know. To know if Grant was doing okay and to know where we stood.
I stiffened my shoulders and added a layer of Grant’s favorite lip gloss. No reason I shouldn’t put my best foot forward, so to speak. I stepped out of the car and headed to the concrete steps.
Was Jane right?
Was this fighting for us to work?
Or was this just asking for more pain?
Did he already give me my answer?
At least this was me not running. This was me trying. If nothing else, Mom and Jane would be proud.
My hands shook and my heart was racing. I took another breath and pulled open the doors.
The warm wood and metal accents felt familiar but impersonalat the same time. When Grant’s hand was in mine, it felt safe, but standing in the foyer with groups of people hustling about, it felt cold.
I expected the place to be mainly empty. I looked back to the glass double doors. Should I leave?
I heard him—a voice that had felt safe and a lot like home. Grant was facing the other direction in a blue button-up and suit pants and was gesturing to someone in front of him, and based on his shoulders, he was not happy.
This didn’t look like the best time after all. Last chance to run.
I could go back to my car and pretend like I didn’t care.
I did not do my hair for nothing.
Besides, if I did that, then I would never know. I’d always wonder what had caused the sudden shift between us. I steeled my shoulders. I deserved an answer.
