“The last time I decided to give us a chance was when it blew up in my face, so I’m done with chances. He had plenty of opportunities to tell me the truth, but kept lying instead. Ugh. Obviously, I’m still upset over it, but the best way to move on is with someone else.”
“Let’s make a deal. If you don’t find anyone you’re interested in after three dates, you have to read the letters.”
“Why are you suddenly pushing this?”
“Because maybe there’s more to Braden than I originally gave him credit for.”
“You definitely drank too much last night. It’s fucking with your head.”
“That, I won’t deny.”
After hanging up, I spent the afternoon creating my dating profile on the site we picked out together. I’m going in with eyes wide open, so I’m not as nervous this time. I’m actually feeling hopeful.
Well, except for the tiny problem that the man I want isn’t on this app. I already found him on the last one, and I’m not sure anyone else will do.
The following week and one date later, I’m sitting in my office when Matt walks in carrying flowers.
“Another delivery for Poppy Whitaker. Where do you want it?”
I groan. “Put them on the bookshelf. Did a letter come with this one?”
“Yep. Here.” He hands it to me after setting the flowers down. “Still haven’t read any of them?”
“No,” I answer, putting it in my purse to add to the others at home.
“And you have two more dates until you have to, right?”
Cici hasn’t let me forget the condition I finally agreed to, which I made the mistake of telling Matt, who also likes to remind me. They’ve been conspiring together and driving me nuts.
“Yeah. The next is this weekend.”
I’m crossing my fingers that this will be the one that changes everything, but my hope is fading after the first one turned out awful. I kept comparing him to Braden the entire time. Unfortunately, he didn’t measure up.
“Good. I’d wish you luck, but I don’t need to. It’ll happen if it’s meant to. I’ll support you no matter what.”
He’s referring to whether I give Braden another chance. Matt was Braden’s primary critic until Cici somehow swayed him. I’m still not sure what gotherto cave, but something changed after New Year’s.
“Thanks. We’ll see, I guess.”
I’m home from my second lackluster date on Friday night and let out a huge sigh of frustration as I close the front door. I’ll search for the last one tomorrow, too tired to do it tonight, and cross my fingers it’ll hit the mark.
Crawling into bed, I grab my Kindle as the familiar pang of sadness sets in. I miss reading with Braden and talking to him about the books—playing around during the spicy scenes. In fact, reading hasn’t been enjoyable since. I’m frustrated that he’s affected me so much, but despite common sense, the heart wants what it wants. Good thing the mind is stronger and winning the battle… barely.
The next day, the doorbell rings as I’m scrolling through prospects for my final date. It’s Saturday, and for a moment, I panic, wondering if I forgot about plans with my brother or Matt, but quickly shake it off. I’m contemplating who it could be when Braden comes to mind. Suddenly, my heart is racing, but it plummets the second I open the door.
A delivery guy is here with a package.
“Poppy Whitaker?”
“That’s me,” I say with a sad smile.
“Sign here, please.”
I do, and he hands me the box.
“Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day.”
“You, too,” I say before shutting the door.
