I don’t reply.
Piper raises her brows, still pushing. She never gives up.
“I don’t want to talk about him yet.”
“Ooh! So it’s a him!”
I sigh. “Dammit, Piper. Please, just let it be for now.”
She sighs. “Fine. But, just so you know, I think it’s a good thing.” When I peer down at her, something in her expression shifts. Her features turn softer and more genuine. She drops her voice. “I saw you smile tonight, Jord. So whatever or whoever is doing that? Keep doing it.”
She gives me a quick side hug before walking away.
I stare after her, my chest radiating an unfamiliar warmth. A moment later, my phone buzzes, and I pull it out expecting a text from Miles. Instead, it’s Piper. She’d texted our group the picture from tonight, with me holding the cheese pizza. Under it is the caption:The king still reigns!
My breath catches. She’s right. I reallyamsmiling. All the way to my eyes.
I mean, yeah, they were all cheering me on and having fun, but I'd felt…somethingin that moment. Not quite happiness, but definitely something. My heart was lighter than it had been in a while.
I let that sink in, then stare down at the anchor tattoo on my wrist. That’s an anchor moment, for sure. This whole afternoon.
I have to honor these moments when they come, because they can be as fleeting as a jar of glitter scattered in the wind. Piper was right to point it out. I needed to see it.
I download the image and send it to Miles.
Me:THE KING REIGNS. If you ever come to San Diego, I’m taking you to Chaven’s. They have the best pizza, and it’s always a contest to see who can stretch theirs the longest. (Spoiler alert: No one has usurped my throne in four years.)
I chuckle before dropping my phone in the cup holder. It’s nice having someone to share these moments with now. Really nice.
If only we could share it in person.
8
MILES
Jordan and I have only talked a few times in the last couple of days, and only through messages. No video. He hasn’t called me, and I haven’t called him. I don’t know if he wants me to.
He’s been… distant, I guess. His messages clipped and brief.
Does he regret what we did? Did we make a mistake?Did I ruin a good thing?
I feel worse the longer I go without seeing his face. The doubt creeps in and makes me restless. I shouldn’t have pushed him.
“Why the long face, dear?” Ruth asks me as I check her IV. She’s doing much better now, after having two surgeries. One to remove some large kidney stones, another to remove a mass on her stomach wall. The mass came back benign, thank goodness.
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
Ruth blinks at me, large brown eyes full of concern.
I force a smile. “Really. I’m fine. It’s just some silly relationship trouble is all.”
“There’s nothing silly about relationship trouble. If someone hurt you, tell them.”
“He didn’t hurt me.”
“Well, have you talked to him?”
My chest tightens. I shouldn’t have said anything or brought her into this. She’s my patient. Not my friend.
