Page 88 of The Sweetness of Life

“That’s unfortunate,” she says sincerely. “Hey! How was my brother? I’m so glad you got to meet him.”

My mind drifts back to the guys playing football behind the manor, every one of them shirtless, sweaty, and looking like they belonged on a damn calendar.

“Your brother is hot!”

“Eww!” she squeals.

“Well he is, and his friends are too.”

Silence falls on her end of the line, and the pause speaks louder than she probably intends it to. Hmm.

“Why didn’t you come see him?”

“A large order came in, and I couldn’t get away.” There’s sadness in her voice, but I know there’s something more. For as long as I’ve known her, if she has a chance to spend time with her brother, nothing gets in her way.

“Must have been a big order.” I’m probing because something about this isn’t adding up.

“It was,” she mumbles, sounding defeated, and then she changes the subject. “Hey, I have honey for you.”

“Orange blossom honey?”

“Yep, lots of it.” She sounds proud.

“Oh, Meg will be so happy.” We’ve been toying around with the idea of selling a few branded products at the café, and her honey is one of them. We’ll give her the money, like a commission sell, but it will have our name on it.

“I’ll ship them to the restaurant later this week.”

“How many are you sending?”

“How many do you want?” She giggles.

“All of it!” I laugh back.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“Shelby . . .” The creak of one of the rocking chairs on her front porch makes its way through the phone to me. I can picture her so well with her shoulder-length light brown hair pulled into a tiny ponytail and bright green eyes, and I wish I were sitting next to her rather than sitting here.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” A lump forms in my throat.

I’ve never really had a boyfriend, have never wanted one past a couple of weeks here and there, but to me this feels an awful lot like what a breakup might, and we weren’t even together. This sucks.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. Zach, on the other hand—” Just saying his name causes my breath to catch and the ache in my heart to intensify.

“I know, but still.”

“Still nothing. This isn’t on you.”

“Maybe, but sometimes I think we don’t realize the thing we need until it happens and then it’s too late.”

“What is it you think I need?” I ask, knowing this statement was meant for Zach but hoping she can give me something, anything.