Maybe because we went through so much in the beginning with the contract and the wedding, only to stay together with mere words.
Or maybe it’s because we never talked about what comes next. Not really. Not the practical parts. Not the things we were supposed to face when the marriage ended.
Every time I try to think about any of that, something inside me shuts down.
And I don’t want to touch it. I don’t want to spoil this euphoria I feel.
I’m in love. I’m happy. What more could a girl want?
“What happens next?” he asks, pulling me back to the present moment. The irony in the question isn’t lost on me, but I know he’s talking about the theater.
“I’ll have a year’s worth of training.” I stab a piece of pancake with my fork. “Kind of like a trial period. André doesn’t think I’ll need the full year, but it’s standard protocol. And even though I’ll still be in training, he actually wants to use some of my portfolio concepts on the smaller productions.”
“That’s fantastic, Isla.” His face brightens.
“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I release a sigh and finally take a bite.
“Hey, don’t make me jealous.” Knox sets down his coffee and pretends to be hurt. “I’msupposed to be the best thing that happened to you.”
I laugh. “You are, Knox Vale. But you know what I mean.”
“Just teasing, love.” He winks. “I’m glad everything is coming together for you.”
“Thank you. Me too. I don’t know when I’m going to calm down from this.”
“I think we should go to dinner tonight.” He nods. “To celebrate.”
“Oh, I’d love that.” I rub my hands together, already looking forward to going out with him.
“Good. Eat up before your food gets cold.”
I smile and take a bigger helping of pancake.
We fall into a comfortable quiet, but Knox keeps watching me. I watch him, too.
“Excuse me,” a voice interrupts gently.
I look up to find Mrs. Porter standing beside our table. She’s in her eighties and has been coming here since my grandparents opened the restaurant. Her signature white bob and shiny pearl necklace are exactly where they always are. She’s one of the regulars who’s supported us through everything.
“I’m so sorry to intrude, dear.” She looks at me first, then Knox.
“Not at all. It’s always great to see you, Mrs. Porter.” I set my fork down and smile.
“I just wanted to say… your grandparents would have been so proud of you.” She nods once, eyes glassy with emotion. “They would have loved what you and your mother did with the place after your father passed.”
My heart softens, but there’s something in her expression, something tight and worried, that twists inside me.
“Thank you,” I tell her quietly. “That means more than you know.”
She nods again, then exhales as her gaze flicks between Knox and me. When her face falls, the dread in my stomach sharpens.
“It’s such a shame what’s happening to the place,” she whispers. “This restaurant has been a second home to so many of us. My husband proposed to me right over there.”
I blink. “What do you mean? What’s happening to the place?”
She hesitates. “The demolition.”
A stone the size of Texas drops into my stomach. “What?”
