Page 86 of Wedding or Not

“So what’s wrong then?”

“As soon as we got home, he said he wanted… he wanted… to take a step back.”

She’s silent for a stretch of time, staring down at the white porcelain farm sink as she wipes it down. “He’s trying to be smart, I guess.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what he said.”

“It’s not a bad idea.”

I make a face at her. “Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not. Things are still nebulous between you. I bet he’s just as mixed up about the relationship as you are. And you’re playing it all out in the public eye. How can you possibly know how much is real?”

I’m still scowling but without any heat. It’s always been annoying that Audrey is so often wise and sensible when it feels like I’m falling apart.

“I see what you’re saying. And I understand why Wes wants what he wants. But I don’t think… I don’t think I’m mixed up anymore.”

“I see,” she murmurs, turning to face me and leaning sideways against the countertop. “You’re in love with him? You know it for sure?”

“I… I’m pretty sure. I at least want the chance to find out.”

“You have the chance. But plunging in headlong when both of you aren’t sure is a recipe for heartbreak. So what’s wrong with taking it a little slower?”

“I don’t want to take it slow,” I grumble. I’m already feeling better. Audrey’s matter-of-fact outlook always does that for me.

She laughs. “I can’t say I’ve felt that way before myself, but I can imagine.”

“But you’re right. I’ll try to slow myself down emotionally until I’m sure. That must be what Wes is feeling himself.”

“I bet it is. If and when you are absolutely sure, you need to say something to him. But until then, give yourself the space to figure it out, and maybe give him the same thing.”

“You know you can be really obnoxious with your rightness.”

She snickers. “Maybe I can see more clearly because I’ve never been in that flurry of romantic feelings myself. I can make sense of it because I’ve never been in love myself.” Her tone softens as she turns back to the sink, and the last thing she says might have been to herself. “I doubt I ever will.”

The next week isn’t great, but it also isn’t terrible.

I see Wes a normal amount—in Rooster’s or around the garden or when I stop by Jake’s to discuss business (at a time I’m sure Wes will be around).

We don’t have sex.

I really want to. I imagine it more times than is entirely healthy for my mental composure. But I’m not around him enough for the desire to transform from emotional to urgently physical, so I manage not to do anything reckless or embarrassing.

It helps that I’m swamped all week with publicity remaining from the wedding and honeymoon and a continued wave of interest in hosting events at Blossom Park.

We no longer have any worries about paying off our debt and establishing ourselves as financially secure for several years. But there’s a different kind of stress in trying to manage the influx of inquiries, viewings, and events.

All week I look forward to Saturday since Wes and I have planned to go to the flea market together.

If we don’t appear together anywhere, it will feed the skepticism of all the doubters. Plus I want to go to the flea market, and I want to spend real time with Wes.

Maybe a longer outing will help to make sense of my feelings.

So I’m in a good mood in the morning, helping Iris and Parker with a big school project, when I get a text from Wes.

I’m thinking I won’t go this afternoon.

I stare at the words for more than a minute, my vision blurring a couple of times.