“I’ll go with you if you want,” he offers.
“You know about paints?” I say with a smile.
“Not a thing,” he says. “But you obviously do. Maybe you just need a friend there.”
My throat constricts, and I fight the emotion back. Because Brayden is a friend. More of a friend than I’m used to and more than I ever imagined I could find in a man. I don’t know why God would put someone like Brayden into my path just to have it all end in a few short weeks.
“Yeah?” he says, raising his hand for the check. “We’ll stop there now.”
I glance at my phone. Phillip still hasn’t texted. “I don’t have much time.”
“This will just take a few extra minutes,” Brayden says. “Then I’ll drop you home.”
Brayden has his credit card out and has handed it to the server before I can blink.
“Thank you for the dinner,” I say sincerely. “I’ll treat next time.”
He smiles at me, and it lights up his whole face. “You feeling better?”
I nod. “Definitely. I think I just needed to unwind before I go home. In general, I’m not a social person; I hardly ever go out to a party or a bar.”
“Even when you were younger?”
“Not really. I tended to avoid high school parties after...” I cut off. “And college was more of the same.”
My face heats as I remember my college roommate freshman year. Marnie went out five nights a week and called me uptight and boring behind my back. I told myself I had a boyfriend, that I didn’t need to socialize like all those girls who just went out to get drunk and try to hook up, but her words hurt me nonetheless. Phillip was off at Princeton, and I was alone in Colorado.
“Were you with someone in college?” Brayden asks.
I notice he doesn’t ask me if I was with Phillip— just if I was with someone.
“Yes.”
June was constantly surprised that Phillip and I stayed together through those four years apart. Every Christmas break when I came home, she would greet me with, “Did you guys break up yet?”
Then Phillip returned to Mountainview, and I did too, and while he was spending all those years obtaining his PhD, I was working toward mine as well. He finished early, and I was by his side, holding his hand through the all-nighters, editing his thesis and sitting in the front row as he delivered it. We knew getting married before he finished school made no sense, but then we delayed a bit longer until he was granted tenure and we had the security. Breaking up was never on the table, not in our conversations and not in my head. Whether or not it was in my heart, I can only guess.
I shrug. “I know the percentage for couples staying together through four years of college when they’re at different schools is probably nil, but I’m kind of weird, I guess.”
“Maybe you just like beating the odds,” Brayden suggests.
Maybe. Or maybe I just didn’t know any better.
* * *
The art store parking lot is nearly empty when Brayden pulls his truck into a spot.
“Maybe they’re closed,” I say. “I don’t want to go to the front door and have them just wave me away. That’s always awkward.”
“This type of place usually stays open pretty late,” Brayden says as we step out of the truck.
Sure enough, the store’s open. We walk inside, and I practically drag Brayden down the aisles, waving away a male employee who calls out to ask if we need help.
We reach the paint supplies aisle, and I reach out impulsively and touch his arm. “Thank you for coming here with me.”
He puts his hand on my hair gently. For a moment, he almost looks like he’s going to kiss my head. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns quickly toward the shelves of paints and brushes and asks me what I’m thinking of starting with.
We’ve just left the store with a bag of paints, brushes, and some canvases when Phillip texts that he’s home.
