Ipopped up from the floor, unable to handle the intense way Frasier was looking at me after my admission. His expression was the same one he wore when he faced down an opponent on the ice. It said,I see you, and you can’t get anything past me.
“I’m going to go make some dinner. Do you want to stay and eat with me?”
“Sounds good.” He returned his attention to attaching the fan blades to the motor.
He was always helping with something around the house. I’d told him I could hire someone, but he always insisted on doing it himself. He was a fixer. If he saw a problem, he wanted to solve it. And I suspected that working on projects, helping me, helped him process his own grief.
I went to the kitchen, Bacon and Biscuit on my heels. I crouched down beside them, giving each of them a good scratch behind their ears. Then I stood and washed my hands so I could prepare dinner. Their nails scrabbled against the floor as they raced over to their food bowls.
I grabbed my tablet and pulled up one of my favorite recipes from Maggie, the team’s nutritionist. I was glad Frasier had agreed to stay because it pushed me to cook an actual meal.As I washed and chopped the vegetables, I thought back on my conversation with Allie. I knew my sister wasn’t trying to be hurtful, but her words had still had that effect.
It feels as if the light has gone out of you.
I’d wanted to rail at her, but deep down, part of me worried that she was right. For the past year and a half, I’d been in survival mode. And it was exhausting.
My sister could empathize all she wanted, but she’d never truly understand what it was like. And I hoped she never would.
But now, I’d gotten myself stuck in a situation. Her comment had made me feel defensive, deflated. So when she’d pushed about bringing a date to the wedding, I’d lied.
“I have a date,” I’d blurted, hoping my tone didn’t betray the anger and hurt, the defiance coursing through me. The lie.
“Who?” She’d laughed. “Frasier?”
“Yes,” I’d snapped. I’d been just… so over it.
“And he’s your date. You guys are together.” She sounded so smug. So skeptical.
“Yes,” I gritted out. She’d pushed me too far.
“What?” Allie shrieked. “Is that why you’ve been so annoyed anytime I suggested dating someone? Why didn’t you just tell me you were in a relationship with Frasier?”
“Because…”
Crap. Crap. Crap. What had I done?
I wasn’t dating Frasier. But the fact that she thought I was meant she—and others—would finally stop pestering me to “be happy” and “find love again.” It was also one hundred percent not true.
That would’ve been a good moment to course correct, but instead, I dug my heels in even deeper. “Because it’s new,” I said, scrambling for an excuse that made sense. “And we’re not really telling anyone.”
“But you’re bringing him as your date to the wedding.” It wasn’t a question, but it sounded like one, like maybe she didn’t believe me. Like she was trying to catch me in the lie.
I cringed. I’d told her that Frasier was coming, when I hadn’t even asked him if he would.
Instead of saying yes, I tried to backtrack a little. “It’s new, so please…don’t tell anyone that we’re together for now. Not even Kit.”
“Why not?” she’d asked. “Everyone will be so happy. This is great news, Bryn!”
Yeah. Great.
“I just…” I blew out a breath. I’d really done it now. “People might think it’s weird—me dating Derek’s best friend.”
It would be weird, right?
Frasier entered the kitchen, and I nearly dropped the knife I’d been holding.
He furrowed his brow. “You okay?”
“I was lost in thought. You startled me, that’s all.” I smiled brightly.
