I scowl, but I try to figure out if she’s right. Truth is, I don’t need to think very hard. “It is in some ways. I thought Andrew was handsome, but no part of me wanted to date him. It didn’t even occur to me until he hit on me. And it was all so cliché, I guess, now that I’m out of it. He wanted to ‘save’ me from my ‘tragic life’ as a maid, and I was so exhausted and worn down, I stupidly let him. He validated the part of me that was convinced I was trash, and even when it started going bad so early, I was too scared to go—too afraid he was the only kind of person who’d want me.”
My heart squeezes. Certainly not for what I lost in Andrew, but for ever being in a place to make that choice to begin with. And now that I’d stood on my own for more than a year, and as I’d worked so hard to get here to Juniper View and make a life here, for the woman I was. For thegirlwho’d never seen her own value even as a child, and for the brutal process by which I learned that my worth had nothing to do with my income or the label of clothes I wore or my address.
“But that’s just it. I know you haven’t been here long, but you’re not exhausted and worn down anymore, are you? You like the diner, you’re working onfiguring things out, you’re talking about taking classes, you have excellent friends, if I may say, and you like it here.”
With eyes closed, I absorb her words and try to pull them close to me. “But it’s still me.I’mthe common denominator.”
She makes a distressed sound. “Trust me when I tell you, I understand feeling like you don’t trust yourself. But Sam, honey, you’ve made so many good decisions in the last year. And I bet you, even before that, even though one bad choice hurt you. Yes, it did, and I’m sorry you’re still dealing with those repercussions. But what you’ve done since leaving him is extraordinary. And since arriving here, in a matter of a few months, you’ve built a small life and folded yourself into Juniper View. That’s amazing, and it means you have resources you didn’t have before.”
“Yeah.” It’s watery and weak, but not without a spark of hope. There were other developments she didn’t know about, too—I’m going back to school, I’ve decided, working towards a larger goal. I had a vision for my life I’d given up a long time ago.
“Plus, Grantisa good man. I know sometimes people hide it well, but he is someone I believe is who he seems to be. Did you know anyone else who knew Andrew and who could tell you about him? Give you their take?”
With a huff, I admit, “No. My mom is the only person who met him because by then I’d fallen out with most of my friends thanks to my work schedule and the way he worked to have me all to himself and ultimately isolate me. All she saw were the dollar signs attached to him.”
“Exactly. I realize his family is biased, and I probably am, too, because he helped me in a time of need. But I also don’t think so many people would appreciate and admirehim the way they do if he weren’t a decent man. Not in a town like this.”
I exhale slowly, wrapping my head around everything she’s just said. “You’re right.”
“I’m pretty sure I am, yeah.”
“I’m so glad my friends are humble,” I say on a laugh.
“And beautiful. That’s another key detail.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up, determined to stop fighting myself about this. It’s not simple, especially with my history, but it’s also okay to let this be something different.
So I putter around the house until the doorbell rings again a few hours later, determined to let this next encounter be new between me and a man I’ve decided to let myself like.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Grant
Sam opens the door with a wide smile, and before she can step back completely, Poppy runs straight past her.
“Thanks for inviting us.”
Lily’s voice is tiny, so I can tell she’s a touch shy still. It’s been a while since we’ve seen Sam one-on-one, but she’ll warm up quickly.
“I’ve got a new screen for you.” I pull out the wire screen. “Mind if I go ahead and get this in?”
Looking her directly in the eyes gives me a pleasant ache in my chest. There’s a feeling of expectation, too, like a pot on to simmer but eventually, it’ll all boil over and time will run out.
“That’s great.” She shifts her focus to Lily. “Do you want to go see Mr. Bingley?”
She nods, and Sam grins, then waves her forward. “Looks like Poppy found him in one of his favorite afternoon spots.”
I glance over to see Poppy in the bedroom half of the apartment curled around the cat, whose long dark fur fans in all directions. He’s sprawled out on the floor and kneading the air in a patch of sunlight filtering in through one of the windows on the far side of the space. Poppy is practically spooning him, whispering who knows what. I can’t help the burst of pride at the way she’s staying calm and not even touching him yet.
Lily speaks softly, and Poppy is still whisper-chatting. Sam sits at the end of her bed and grins as she watches them fawn over her pet.
The look on her face carries so much fondness, it makes me wonder if she could ever?—
I turn away, fully aware that thought is a bridge too far. We’re friends. I like her. But I don’t need to be mentally auditioning her for future parental roles.
It’s normal to think that way, I’ve been reassured. The therapist I met with when I first moved back had promised me that worrying about whether someone I dated would fit with meandmy kids made sense, and that a lack of thinking about such things would be far more concerning. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t know when that kind of thinking is too soon. Or is it ever?
My first responsibility is to the girls, and it always will be. I may have faltered initially, but I won’t do that to them again, not ever. Until I have a wife, should that day come, and then I am responsible to her, too. For all the purpose I’ve felt lacking since leaving the military, I have ultimate clarity on that. They are my rocks—the girls and the rest of my family are the foundation.
