How long would cupcakes remind me of kissing Grant for the first time?
Not helping.
I needed a distraction, so I turned on the TV. Looking at the recently watched movies, I clicked through, alternating between black-and-white and Marvel.
Ugh! It was like Grant was still everywhere I turned. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. I had already decided I was done crying.
I would recover, and I would be grateful that Grant taught me I can be myself and still be deserving of love.
I tossed the remote on the couch. Maybe I should ask Jane if she wanted to go for a walk?
I felt my forehead for a temperature; surely things were not that drastic.
I lay down on the couch and closed my eyes. I would wake upwhen Leo’s got here, and that would help. I was always more dramatic when I was hungry.
I came out of my haze of a dream of cupcakes and geese and registered a knock at the door.
“Coming!” I hoped Peter hadn’t been there long. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, hoping they seemed sleepy and not like I had been crying for days. I crossed the room to my purse. I grabbed it off the hook under the movie poster forMy Favorite Wife, remembering my old habit of wishing on the Grant picture for my own Grant.
Reaching the front door, I pulled it open. “Sorry, I think I fell aslee—” My eyes locked onto a pair of familiar dark brown eyes. Grant stood there holding my food bags from Leo’s with a sad look on his face. I gasped and threw the door closed.
“Emma?” Grant sounded nervous.
I leaned against the closed door.
What was he doing here?
“Please, Emma, let me in.” Grant’s voice carried through the door, broken and quiet.
I sighed as I held my body against the door. Was I ready to face him again? I turned and grabbed the handle, wondering if I should turn it or hold it closed.
“Emma, please. Just let me explain.”
I steeled my shoulders. Of course I wanted to see him. I slowly opened the door and peeked out.
There he stood, looking as ever like a Greek god in his slacks and button-up shirt, except his shoulders drooped and there were bags under his eyes.
“Hey, Emma.” He gave a sad smile. “Can I come in?” He held up the food. “Peter was here when I came, so I paid him and asked if I could bring it in.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I hope that’s okay.”
I bit my lip and paused. I looked at the bags of food and his broken posture. I sighed and opened the door farther. “I don’t understand…”
Grant stepped in slowly, his eyes on mine.
I took a few steps away, watching him cautiously, my arms folded tight around myself to keep from reaching out to him. “I’m sorry if I got you in trouble, Grant. I did plan on seeing if I could help you.” I looked to the floor.
Grant walked over to the coffee table and put the food down. He turned to face me. “No, Emma.” He sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “You have nothing to apologize for. It was all my fault.” He shook his head. “I got caught up in work again. I had one crisis after another. Water lines, failed credit loans, and then Cole.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Each morning I told myself I would call you, and then each night as I left work at 3 a.m. I felt like it was too late.” His voice broke. “Then it started to feel too long, that a quick call or text couldn’t validate any of it.”
I took in his appearance. “Work!” I looked at the clock. It was in the middle of the Kismet event. “Grant! You need to go.” I pushed him toward the door. “Mr. Cole will be furious. You’ll lose everything. We definitely need to have this conversation, and this time you will call me back.” I raised my eyebrows, to let him know I was serious. “But we can do it later.”
Grant stood straight and shook his head. “No.”
I sighed. “Grant, what about Mr. Cole?”
“I don’t care about him.”
I sighed again more softly. “Maybe you think you don’t, but I know you do.”
He touched my shoulders. “If I have to become like my father or Mr. Cole for my business to succeed, it’s not worth saving.” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “I need to succeed while being kind, succeed while having balance for other people in my life, succeed by being my own man.”
