But Stephen looked at me like I was permanent. Like I was the destination, not a detour.
And that was the most terrifying thing of all.
What if I let myself believe it? What if I let myself fall, and then...
My hands were trembling in my lap. I pressed them together, hard, trying to stop the shaking.
You’re too old for this. Too old to be sitting here with your heart pounding like a teenager’s. Too old to be afraid of a man who tips a hundred dollars for a bear claw and looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world.
But I wasn’t too old to remember what it felt like to be left behind.
And I wasn’t sure I could survive it again.
“I’m not going,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
“You should,” Samantha said gently. “Show Harold what he’s missing.”
“I don’t care what Harold’s missing.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
“Liar,” Haizley said, grinning. “You totally care.”
“What I care about,” I said, my hands clenching in my lap, “is not making the same mistake twice. Harold taught me what happens when you let yourself hope for something that can’t last. When you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserve one more chance at happiness.”
The room had gone quiet, all eyes on me.
“And what happened?” Ellie asked softly.
“His children happened. Reality happened. The fact that I was a fool happened.” I swallowed hard. “I’m not doing that again. I’m not letting some man, no matter how charming or persistent or”—Devastatingly attractive—“whatever he is, make me forget that I’m too old for fairy tales.”
“But what if it’s not a fairy tale?” Grace asked. “What if it’s just... real?”
I looked at her, saw the hope in her eyes, and felt something crack inside me.
What if Stephen is different? What if this time...
No. I couldn’t let myself think like that. I looked at Grace, saw the gentle understanding in her eyes, and felt my defenses crumble.
“Grace—”
“I see the way he looks at you, Trudy. Like you’re the answer to a question he’s been asking his whole life.” Grace’s hand rested on her belly. “That’s not nothing.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“Of what?”
“Of getting hurt. Of being foolish. Of...” I trailed off, shaking my head. “Of everything.”
Grace reached over and squeezed my hand. “That’s what makes it worth it.”
The party wound down eventually, and I helped clean up, grateful for the distraction.
Tyler and Nox emerged from the back room, both talking a mile a minute about motorcycles. Tank followed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Told you I’d keep ’em alive,” he said to Maggie.
Instead of answering, she stuck her tongue out at him, and he threw his head back and laughed. Tyler helped his mother loadup the empty boxes into the car, and I gathered my purse, ready to escape.
