AllFreeNovel Stories worth discovering

Winning Winnie’s Hand

Page 108

by Deborah M. Hathaway

“See, now I’ve talked too much,” Matthew said. “I can see the will to live fading from your eyes.”

He’d said it as a joke, but it struck a little too close to home.

“No, it’s not you,” she said, trying to pull up her spirits like she would a pair of tights, both nearly impossible to accomplish without a strong sense of determination.

“Can I ask what it is, then?” he questioned.

Winnie hesitated. She didn’t like to voice these things aloud. It made her seem vulnerable, which she wasn’t supposed to be. But then, wasn’t that what she wanted—to be seen as human, to be treated with kindness and patience? Who was better to speak with this about than Matthew?

Winnie moved to the edge of the wall, leaning against the elbow-length height of the stone. Drawing a deep breath, she shrugged to play off how deeply her feelings really ran. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about what you said that first time in the assembly hall. When you’d asked why do something if there wasn’t heart or passion involved.”

He joined her by the wall, leaning against it as well. “What about it?” he asked softly.

She chewed on her upper lip. “It just stuck with me, that’s all. Because…I don’t really know what it’s like to do something with my whole heart. At least, not anymore.”

“So, you’re worried about the festival?” Matthew asked, filling in the gaps she couldn’t voice aloud. “If you can put your heart into it to have greater success?”

She nodded, responding in a heavy sigh. “Pretty much.”

He pulled his gaze to the view before them, a calming light coming across the city and quieting the busy streets.

“You haven’t failed at much, have you?” he asked.

She huffed out a laugh of derision, a bitterness rising inside of her she couldn’t silence. “On the contrary. That’s all I do—fail at things. Law school. Culinary school. Medical school. Horseback riding. Becoming a realtor. After all that, I tried business school, which I almost graduated from before starting and failing my own businesses. And now I’m even failing at consulting, which I always thought I was good at, up until two days ago. I am a hot mess with nothing going for me.”

She stopped. With Matthew’s attention focused solely on her, embarrassment flushed over her. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he said at once. Then he paused. “Did you really try to do all of those things?”

“Over the years, yes. And more. All of it was a monumental waste of time.”

“I don’t know about that,” he countered. “Failing is good for us. It helps us learn each time we do.”

She looked away. “Not in the Knox family. It only makes you more of an outcast. More of a disappointment.”

Matthew was silent for a minute, and she was about to apologize for being a massive bummer again when he spoke.

“I have a confession to make,” he said softly, staring down at the wall they leaned against.

She waited, wondering what on earth he had to admit to now.

“My dad told me a bit about your family,” he said. “Mostly your own father, who has very high standards as to what constitutes an accomplishment.”

Winnie wasn’t surprised Mr. Wintour was talking about her and her dad. In fact, she might have already expected such a thing to occur. After all, Mr. Wintour must be no stranger to Dad’s ridiculous criteria.

“That’s why I was asking about your family earlier,” Matthew continued. “I didn’t want to assume that I knew the truth without hearing it coming from your own mouth.”

Despite their topic of conversation, Winnie’s heart softened. How much more admirable could Matthew get?

“Anyway,” he continued, “I’m sorry if my bringing up your family earlier has produced more of these feelings in you.”

“Thank you,” she said, “but you didn’t cause this. It’s been there all along.”

He nodded, looking toward the minster again. “For the record, I don’t think you failed at the festival or at being a consultant. Just because one event didn’t go entirely as planned doesn’t make it out to be a failure.”

“You might be right,” she said, validating his words. But something else chipped away at the peace she’d felt that day, the peace she so desperately wanted to bring back. “But that’s just the thing. I have no real passion for consulting. Sure, I love helping people. I love seeing the growth that comes when good advice is taken. And I love finding creative ways to improve businesses. But all of that is surface level. Definitely not enough to move the dial of passion.”

Matthew nodded, seeming to think about her comments before responding. “Can I ask how you came to be a consultant?”