"It was only the one time."
"Yeah, sure," I teased. "Take those odds to Vegas, my friend."
The levity lingered for a minute before he blew out a breath, saying, "It was a car accident. One of those unbelievable icy highway pile-ups. She died on impact and—" His voice hitched and I had to knot my fingers together to fight off all the instincts telling me to reach for him. He glanced away for a second before continuing. "Percy was in the car with her. He was…just about six months old. Broken leg. Traumatic brain injury. Lost some of his vision in the left eye. But he came out of it."
"Oh my god. Jude."
He shook his head like he had to sweep away the memories to speak. "They were driving home after I'd come in for the weekend. We'd agreed on monthly visits to start and then we'd shift to—" He shrugged like none of it mattered anymore. I guess it didn't.
"I'm so sorry." When he tried to wave me off again, I added, "It couldn't have been easy. Even if you didn't have a relationship with Penny, it all happened at once."
"Definitely not easy," he agreed, "but the kid pulled through after two months in the hospital. He doesn't speak, though the doctors can't decide whether that's a result of the TBI or a stress response."
"But he communicates with you," I said, pointing to his phone. "That's really impressive for his age."
"He got tired of the alternative communication apps and learned to read and write over the past year." A warm, adoring smile brightened his expression. "Between ASL and texting, he doesn't shut up."
Fatherhood looked good on Jude. It looked really damn good.
A hollow spot inside me pinged though I managed to say, "He's lucky to have you."
"That's what my mom says," he replied, a laugh in his words. "She also says I deserve all the headaches and sleepless nights he gives me too."
"How is Janet?" I asked. "Are you staying with her this weekend?"
I'd always loved Jude's mom. She gave the best hugs, the kind that squeezed all the broken pieces back together tight enough that it seemed like they might hold. I'd missed her after everything ended and my parents shipped me off to California for college. Though I doubted she shed many tears over that change of plans.
She'd argued hard for us to go off to college separately. We needed time to figure ourselves out, she'd said. We had our whole lives to be together. Though even when she disapproved, she'd left the decision in Jude's hands. My parents did not share that approach.
He pushed a hand through his hair and gave me a look that saidJust wait till you hear this. "No, she moved out to Arizona last spring."
"Arizona? What prompted that?"
"Mostly the breast cancer, but she'd had enough of the New England winters too. Also, there was something aboutbetter energythough I still have some questions about that."
Slumping back in my seat, I absorbed the physical blow of those words.
"She beat it," he added quickly, taking in the open-mouth alarm written across my face. "For a minute it didn't look like she would, but she pulled through. It's been a full year of no evidence of active disease now."
"That—that's such a relief," I said. "But going forward, I'm going to need you to tell me everyone's all right before getting into these tragic stories. I'm bracing myself for what's to come."
"I'm tapped out on tragedy," he said. "Aside from the damage you did to my toes last night."
"You'll survive." I gave him a tart smile before tearing off a chunk of chai muffin. "I've been trying to develop a recipe for these muffins for…well, for years. Never get it quite right."
"You like baking." There was something odd embedded in that statement but I couldn't pry it out before he said, "I need you to do something for me."
Ah. Finally.
I'd known it was coming but a shiver still raced down my spine and I had to work at chewing the muffin I'd crammed in my mouth. I made a real effort at looking casual as I swallowed hard.
"Yeah, okay, let's get into it," I said, tipping my chin at him. "I've been dying to find out the real reason for this visit."
I expected an arched eyebrow glare, a broody stare that said nothing could prepare me, a scowl that sent me into a cold sweat. What I got was Jude ducking his head and blinking down at the table for a remarkably long minute.
Then he pinched his brow and ground out, "We need to be engaged. To be married."
I waited. There had to be more. A punch line, perhaps, or a chasm waiting to open under the café and spring me from this mortal slog. Anything would be better than leaving me to treadwater while holding up that—thatannouncement. Because it hadnotbeen a question, not at all.
