Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
She tilted her head, studying me. “Funny how quickly we all fell for him.”
“Yeah, he had that effect.”
She frowned and nodded. “Yes, he did.”
* * *
Evan looked confused. “You broke up?”
I nodded, tamping down my reaction. I was shocked how emotional I was still. I couldn’t stop thinking about Ronan. All the wonderful things he did. His touch. His laugh. The way he would watch me. His terrible, off-key but enthusiastic singing voice.
“It just didn’t work out, Evan.”
“I liked him.”
“I know. He liked you a lot.”
“You too,” he insisted. “He told me how much he liked you. Did you have a fight? Maybe you could just say sorry and it would be okay?”
My heart ached, and I felt the anger I had been looking for flare a little. I hated the fact that Evan was going to hurt now as well.
“It’s more complicated than that. I’m sorry.”
He looked down, and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes when he glanced back up. “Are you okay, Beth?”
“I will be.”
“I guess I have to give back his Lego stuff. I’ll pack them up.” He sighed. “He’ll never see what I made with them.”
“I will take them to his office next week. You can use them for a few more days.”
“Maybe—if it’s okay—maybe you can take a picture? He might want to see it.”
I ruffled his hair and bent to kiss his forehead. “Sure, I can do that.”
I couldn’t promise him Ronan would look at it. But if it made Evan happy, I would do that for him.
“Want to go for ice cream later?” I asked.
He shook his head, his voice subdued. “Maybe another time.”
“Okay.” I paused at his bedroom room. “Hey, Evan. It’s going to be fine. We were good before, and we’ll be good again.”
He nodded, offering me a small smile before he turned away.
I had a feeling neither of us believed those words.
Chapter Seventeen
Beth
By the following Saturday, I was dragging my ass. I was drained. I couldn’t sleep, and my appetite was nonexistent. I was tired of trying to pretend everything was okay at home. Evan was withdrawn and had stopped his exercises. More than once, I had heard Lucy ask Paige if Ronan was coming back yet. Paige herself looked sad. I felt sad. Depressed. Everything seemed to remind me of him. Even the diner. I couldn’t escape it. Despite my anger and the pain he caused me, every time the bell would ring over the door later in the evening, I would look up, half hoping it would be Ronan striding in. I hadn’t heard from him at all, and there had been no reaction to the Lego sets being sent back. Paige had taken them, not saying a word after she dropped them off except a shake of her head when I asked if she had seen Ronan.
Surprisingly, the cake orders hadn’t stopped. I considered refusing to make them, then decided that would be foolish. Evan needed things, and the income helped me supply them. Mike told me his wife insisted on the rides home any night I stayed so late to make cakes, and I accepted his explanation, too weary to question the sudden interest in my safety.
I was picking up an order when I heard the bell over the door. I was grateful I only had an hour left in my shift. As I walked out of the kitchen, I saw a couple of women seated in the booth where Ronan always sat, and I quelled the silly notion of telling them to move. Lots of people sat in that booth. I carried the loaded plates to the table waiting for them, filled their coffees, then, with a deep breath, walked to the booth.
“Welcome to Nifty Fifty. May I get you something to drink?”
One woman glanced up, observing me carefully. She was small with bright-blue eyes and a warm smile. “Coffee, please. For both of us. Cream as well.”
She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I got the coffees and carried them to the table. The other woman at the table looked up, and I froze.
The cup I was holding paused midair as I stared at the other woman, who was regarding me steadily. Her hair was a rich brown with purple highlights. I judged her to be average height and slim. She had unusual eyes and delicate features, but her smile was the same as Ronan’s. It had to be his sister.
She reached up, taking the coffee cup from my hand. “I’ll take that,” she murmured.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I’ll have a burger,” she said.
“I don’t think she meant our order, Ava,” the other woman murmured.
“That is all I want,” I responded. “Your food order.”
She pursed her lips. “I’ll have the house salad. Ava will have the burger. We’ll share the fries.”