I’m a mess.
“Hey there.” A deep voice comes from close behind me.
I jump, one hand flying to my eyes in an attempt to swipe away evidence of my upset. “Hey,” I respond, trying hard to sound like I’ve just been standing here enjoying the view this whole time.
“You okay?” Brady leans on the counter beside me.
I feel his gaze burning into the side of my face.
I nod, looking at him. He’s so handsome. How could that woman have chosen anyone over him?
“Just thinking,” I say, biting the inside of my lower lip.
Brady leans back a little more, so that now his elbow rests on the counter behind him. It reminds me of last night at the beach, and how we had lain on the blanket until there were stars overhead.
“You going to tell me what you’re thinking about? Or do I need to pry it out of you? I’m patient, remember? I can pry for hours.”
His words make me smile. “I was just thinking about a year ago. How I was planning a wedding.” I take a deep breath. “Our wedding would’ve been June twenty-ninth.”
Brady makes a pained face. “That’s only a couple weeks away.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, agony darting through my chest, cracking away at my battered heart.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this, Addison. You don’t deserve it.”
“What if I do?”
Brady’s eyebrows draw together. “Why would you think that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Nothing truly bad had ever happened to me, until that night. The universe was too good to me. It forgot to give me some awful hardship, so it made up for it.” I glance at Brady. “I just hope it’s finished with me for a while.”
“I don’t see the universe as vindictive like that.”
I shake my head, searching for a better way to describe my feelings. “Not vindictive. More like checks and balances, I guess.”
“Either way, I don’t agree with you. I think good things happen to good people. And you” —he leans in closer, and my breath sticks in my throat— “you are a good person, Addison.”
He doesn’t pull back, and the air between us fills. What is that it’s full of? Something sweet and gentle. And maybe… anticipation? Of what?
Brady reaches for me, his hand covering the palm I’ve laid on the counter. He doesn’t speak, but his eyes say all that needs saying.
“Thank you, Brady,” I whisper, and fight the urge to flip my palm over and slip my fingers through his.
“Hey, you two,” my grandma says. I whip around, guilt blooming in my stomach. But what do I have to feel guilty about?
“You look like you’re sharing secrets,” she says, walking to the fridge and opening the door. Instead of looking at the contents, she keeps her steady gaze on us.
“We’re just over here gossiping,” I respond, trying to push away the guilt.
I turn back around and sip my coffee, making a face when it hits my lips. It’s barely lukewarm.
“Let me,” Brady says, taking the cup from my hands. He empties the remains of the coffee into the sink and walks to the coffeemaker, pouring me a fresh cup.
My grandma’s eagle eyes have been trained on him the whole time, and she hands him the bottle of creamer just as he turns to her. He pours in a little and stops, looking up at me.
“Do you prefer a little cream with your coffee, or some coffee with your cream?” He smiles and winks.
“A dash of cream is good,” I tell him. He hands me the new cup and I thank him, aware we’re being watched. My eyes flash over to my grandma, and just like I thought, she’s watching. She realizes I’m looking at her, so she sticks her nose in the fridge, finally turning her attention to whatever it was she came in here for.
