Nothing is well.
I’m sick to my stomach, ignoring the constant humming inside my own head.
Vicki Anderson wouldn’t be in the hospital right now if you hadn’t faked your engagement. You tortured old people with weak hearts.
And when I drown that out, I go back to thinking about wanting to kiss Amanda.
I shouldn’t be here.
I’m not helping.
“What if I was wrong about the recipe?” Amanda whispers.
Kimberly stops pacing to take the seat on Amanda’s other side. “Even if you were, there’ssomethingthat set the families at war, and it’s something that doesn’t matter anymore if none of us can remember it.”
“Agreed,” Lorelei says.
An older man in scrubs enters the waiting room. “Mrs. Anderson? Ms. Anderson? Vicki is asking for you.”
Amanda and her mom both bolt to their feet.
“Is she okay?” Kimberly asks.
“How bad is it?” Amanda adds.
“We’re still monitoring her, but indications are she’ll be just fine.”
I don’t know whose exhalation of relief is loudest. Could be any one of the four of us.
“Indigestion again?” Amanda asks.
“I don’t believe so. We can talk more in her room.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Wediddo this to her.
The man in scrubs nods toward the hallway. “This way, please.”
They both start to follow the doctor, but Amanda pauses to turn and look at me. “Thank you. Again. For everything. I—I meant it when I said I hope we can stay friends.”
Stay friends.
She has a lot on her plate right now. Her grandmother. Figuring out the bakery. Probably a lot of truth to share with her mom, much like I need to fully clear the air with my dad about how our families’ feud has impacted me.
Dating is the last thing on her mind.
As it should be.
This was a week of purposeful fun with an expiration date.
And how utterly boring ispurposeful fun?
I know I’m not boring. I got over Vanessa’s reasons for breaking up with me a long time ago, especially as I started working through how all the negativity I’ve been surrounded with my entire life has impacted me.
But I’m not the vibrant ray oflifethat Amanda is either.
