“It felt like you fit in with us.” She looks down at her bare feet as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. As much as I want to vocalize my agreement, I’m afraid what might happen if I do.
She wouldn’t have brought it up if she was worried about what you might say.
“For a moment during dinner, I wished I did.”
Her brows pull together. “What?”
I shrug, attempting to look like I don’t care but probably failing miserably based on how tense my shoulders are. “I like spending time with you and Cami. She reminds me a lot of myself when I was her age.”
A ghost of a smile crosses her lips. “For my own mental health and sanity, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“I wasn’t that bad.”
“By ten years old, you already had three broken bones, one concussion, and an inability to sit still for longer than ten minutes.”
“That doesn’t mean she will.”
“I sure hope not. My insurance co-pay is already through the roof.” She throws her hands in the air.
I end up laughing, which only makes her lips purse.
“I’m serious!”
“You’re about to be a millionaire once we sell the house. I’m sure you can cover a couple of broken bones after that.”
“Right.” Her elation dies, killed along with the small smile taking form on her face.
“Don’t tell me you’re second-guessing everything. I thought we had an agreement with one another.”
Her frown deepens. “No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m going to bed.” She turns toward the hall.
“Why are you leaving?” I follow after her.
“I’m tired.” She walks to her bedroom, which is right across from mine.
When Lana goes to reach for the knob, I stop her by grabbing her hand and turning her toward me.
“What did I say?”
She takes a deep breath, making her shoulders rise and fall. “It’s not what you said exactly, but what it reminded me of that bothered me.”
My hand holding on to hers tightens. “What?”
She lifts her other hand in the air and rotates her finger. “That all this has an expiration date.”
My brows scrunch together. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Her face contorts, confusion etching itself into every wrinkle of her forehead. “I don’t know what I want and maybe that’s my problem.” She releases a heavy breath. “I just forgot what it felt like to—” Her sentence dies as she presses her lips together.
“Forgot what it felt like to what?”
She drops her gaze. “Not feel so damn lonely for once.”
The pressure in my chest builds. “Lana—”
“It sounded even more pathetic when I said it aloud. Just pretend I didn’t say anything.” She tugs her hand free and slips inside her room before I can ask her anything else.
I go to my room and climb into bed. Merlin jumps up on to the mattress and cuddles at the foot of the bed, filling the silence with his steady purr.
I consider what Lana said about her not knowing what she wanted. Of how she didn’t like being reminded that everything has an expiration date.
If she hadn’t rushed off to her room, I would have told her I feel the same. That I also struggle with crippling loneliness and a desire to fill the chronic void in my chest.
I swore to myself that I would only be here until I sold the house. That there was no point to sticking around longer than that, especially when I wasn’t wanted here.
But what if…
No. There is no possible way she would give me a chance.
Right?
During all my hypothetical situations about returning back to Lake Wisteria, I didn’t even consider the possibility of Lana being interested in me. Wouldn’t even entertain it because I couldn’t get my hopes up.
But what if she is open to us trying something new together? Something that isn’t weighed down by drugs or depression or bad decisions made out of desperation to feel something other than pain?
I could help lessen the loneliness both of us suffer from. It would be easy to become her companion. Friend. Lover.
My mind takes off, a plan forming as I mull through all our interactions up until this point. If Lana is confused, it’s time I clarified a few things—starting with my feelings toward her. I might not have an answer for everything, but I do know one thing.
Lana is the only woman I ever loved, and it’s time I started acting like it.
28
ALANA
Second to Christmas, the Strawberry Festival is my favorite time of the year at Lake Wisteria. Everyone in town goes all out to make it the best event to celebrate the season. People from all over come to visit the park near Town Square and enjoy the carnival rides, pageants, and amazing food inspired by the fruit of the season.
Cami yanks on my arm. “Mommy! Look!”
I turn to where Cami points. “What?”
“It’s Cow-l!” She jumps up on her tippy toes to get a better look, making her strawberry print dress flap around her.
“Cal isn’t here.” At least I don’t think he is, since he never mentioned coming during the last few meals we shared together.
“It’s him!” She points toward the entrance of the festival.
At first, I think Cami must be imagining things. But then the person wearing a strawberry costume turns and looks at us with wide eyes.
Oh. My. God.
No freaking way.
From the green leafy headpiece and oversized white gloves to the red strawberry-shaped body piece and green pants, Cal looks like something out of a cartoon.
I burst out laughing. My hold on Cami’s hand slips, and she takes off toward him.
Usually, the costume is reserved for an angsty teen in need of a punishment from their parents or an adult who lost a bet. I’m not sure how Cal ended up wearing it, but I have to personally thank whoever convinced him to put it on.
I pull out my phone and snap a photo of him. Cal grabs Cami and throws her in the air, turning my already-softening heart into absolute goo as she breaks into a fit of giggles.
So much for trying to avoid the warm fuzzies around him.
I wipe a stray tear that fell as I walk over to them. “How much did they pay you to wear that?”
He places Cami on her feet. “Sadly, I volunteered.”
“Why?”
A breeze pushes a leaf into his eyes. “I was bored.”
“And they set you up with this?” I flick one of the leaves falling over his eyes.
“I guess they wanted to make an ass out of me. Surprise, surprise.”
Cami sucks in a breath.
He looks down at her. “Remind me later, okay?”
She tries to wink, only to end up blinking each eye one at a time.
Just another thing she picked up on from Cal.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Meg was the one who suggested I go to Town Hall to volunteer for the festival.”
My eyes bulge. “Oh, no.”
“Yup. And since I have to protect my pride, here I am.”
“I’m surprised you have any left after wearing that.”
His leaf headband bobs with his shrug. “What can I say? Vodka makes me confident.”
My smile slips.
His eyes screw shut. “Wait, Lana. I didn’t mean—”