She nods, sipping her wine. “Yeah, there’s that, I guess, but I still have to find another contractor. I have no idea what I’m doing, and the last thing I need is more issues slipping through the cracks when the inspector returns.”
She doesn’t say it out loud, but I can see she’s stressed. Seth did more than fuck things up forhimself.He screwed Blue in the process.
“Anything I can do to help?”
She peers up briefly with a soft smile. “No, but thanks for asking. This is just one of those things I have to sort out on my own.”
I pick up a piece of asparagus and take a bite, but I’m not distracted from the sudden silence that creeps in.
“What’s wrong?”
She blinks up at me, forcing a smile. “Nothing. All good.”
We’ve been together long enough to spot when the other isn’t being entirely truthful, so she’s not convincing me.
“You know you don’t have to pretend with me, don’t you? I want to know what’s on your mind.“
She looks down at her plate, hiding her blue eyes from me. “I know, I just… you went through so much trouble to make tonight special. I refuse to bring the mood down talking about things that don’t matter.”
I set my fork down and reach for her hand, slowly lacing my fingers with hers. The contact steals her full attention.
“If it’s on your mind, it matters,” I assure her. “We can talk about anything you want tonight.”
And I hope she knows I mean that. Yeah, I want tonight to be perfect, but maybe my idea of what that means isn’t quite coming through. My definition of perfect is having her here with me, comfortable, feeling loved. Talking about heavy, complicated shit won’t ruin that.
I let her hand go, and she loosens up some.
“I’ve had some time to reflect these past few days. What if all these things keep happening as a sign that I wasn’t supposed to take this on?”
“You mean opening the center?”
She nods and the profound sadness that takes her over isn’t lost on me. “First the inspector, which now has the city breathing down my neck, and there’s also the whole… Seth thing.”
I know my wife. Yeah, she’s understandably stressed, but this self-doubt is coming from someplace else.
“What are you afraid of?”
She lifts her eyes, surprised by the question. “I’m not—”
“Before you say it, remember who you’re talking to.”
That makes her hesitate, because if anyone knows her—knows her tells, how her mind works—it’s me.
Her gaze lowers, and I lean back, sipping wine while I wait.
“I’m afraid that, with how Pandora’s portraying me, with how she’s airing out my entire life… having the center connected to my name might do more harm than good. I’m afraid I’ll be the death of something so important before it even has a chance to breathe.”
She takes a breath after admitting so much, and I wish I could take it all away. The fear, the pain, the uncertainty. But if I’ve learned anything during this time apart, learned anything from seeing her stand up to Seth, it’s that she’s strong.
Stronger than me, actually.
“I don’t know. Maybe I was just supposed to move back to the city and stay in my lane. Maybe this was too big a project for me to take on.”
“Are you kidding? You were called to do this, Blue. A few setbacks doesn’t change that. The southside needs youandthe work you’re doing over there.”
She lowers her head, taking a bite of mashed potatoes while she thinks. “I don’t know. I had no idea it was going to be this hard.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a firm believer in anything worth having being worth the fight.”
