“Me too,” I admit morosely.
“Give him a call,” he implores.
I sigh. “His friend Dean got in touch with me earlier.”
Jonas casts me a sideways look, his brows drawing together. “And? I know Dean. He’s an architect, right?”
I nod. “We met at Wilson’s birthday party. He followed me on Instagram afterward and now he’s messaged me.”
I’m almost ready to submit the tender drawings and then I’ll need to crack on with the construction package, which is even more detailed. But a few days ago, I emailed my old boss, Marie, and she replied straightaway to say that she would absolutely be interested in commissioning me for some projects she has coming up. It inspired me to update my Instagram feed with some of my old perspective sketches. They obviously caught Dean’s attention.
“And?” Jonas says again.
“A position is coming up at his practice. Dean asked if I might be interested.”
Jonas turns to look at me properly.
“It’s maternity cover, so it’s not permanent, but... I don’t know. I’m considering it.”
“You’re thinking about staying in America?” His face breaks into the biggest grin, and when I nod, he picks me up and swings me around, causing my feet to hit the scarecrow and knock it over.
“Jonas, stop it!” I’m squealing with laughter. “Look at the damage you’re doing!”
“Oh man, I wouldloveyou to stay in America!” he exclaims when he finally puts me down, and it makes me think back to what Anders said about his brother before he left:He adores you, Wren.
I wonder how different this summer would have been if Jonas and I had felt anything other than platonic affection for each other.
I’m glad we haven’t. I adore him too. And I’m so happy he’s my friend. I sense he always will be. I’ll miss him if I do end up going home for good, but I hope that we’ll catch up whenever I come to visit.
“I’ve got to go back to the UK in about three weeks for a wedding, but I might return sooner rather than later. Dean has asked me to go into his practice later this week to have a chat.”
“Text Anders,” he begs me. “Text him right now and ask him to meet you for a coffee.”
Maybe it’s because I’m tipsy and I don’t have the headspace to think about protecting my heart, but that’s exactly what I do.
Anders replies as we’re finding our way out of the maze. We’ve given up on the puzzle and are cutting a beeline straight through the corn because I’m desperate for a wee. Luckily, each stalk is planted far enough apart so that cheating humans such as myself can quit when we want to.
I’m at work on Thursday, Anders says, and my heart sinks until I read on.Could do dinner? You’re welcome to use the spare room if you want to stay.
And at that, my stupid heart soars.
32
I’ve left a key for you with my neighbor at #12. I’ll be back at around 6.
I close the door of Anders’s apartment behind me. It looks the same—it’s stylish, clean, and tidy—but everything feels different.
As I put my overnight bag in the spare bedroom, I glance toward Anders’s room and jolt at the realization that Laurie’s photo is not on the bedside table. I didn’t know I was looking for it until its absence was the first thing I noticed.
Where has it gone? What does this mean? Anything? Nothing?Everything?
I’ve been feeling edgy all day, even though the day itself has been great. Dean walked me through some of the projects he’s been working on and he even took me to see the amazing Visitors Pavilion at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. I feel so inspired. I would love to work with him, but there’s a lot to consider. He told me I could take my time to think about it because his employee isn’t going off on maternity leave until the end of the year. I don’t imagine he’ll have any trouble filling the position.
Anders comes home just after six. I’ve relocated to thebreakfast bar and am tucking into the bottle of white wine I went out and bought from the deli up the street. At this rate, I’ll be an alcoholic by the end of the month. My nerves are shredded.
“Hi,” Anders says, and his expression is as soft as his greeting.
He looks tired, and maybe even a little sad, but he’s still heartrendingly gorgeous.
