I take a seat, unwrapping my silverware. “I’m sorry, I never did get your name that night.”
“Weston,” he says. “Yours?”
“Delilah.”
“Did you ever find Zane?”
“I did.” I lift my brows, forking my salad. “Thank you for assisting with that. Apparently, Zane was very in demand that night.”
“Nah.” Weston smirks. “You just have to know where to look.”
“Are you two good friends?”
“We’re both Cougars.” He tugs on the t-shirt covering his barreled chest. Navy and gold letters spell out Gainesville, and I assume the rest is on the back.
“So are you friends or are you just . . . cougars?”
He laughs through his nose. “Both.”
“So, I’m curious,” I say. “Whatever became of your yellow shirt that weekend?”
He sits up, his eyes wide and his cheeks blushing. Seeing this gentle giant so humble is nothing short of endearing.
“My yellow shirt . . . stayed on my person. If that’s what you’re asking.” He laughs. “I definitely made the right choice that night.”
“Oh?” I take a sip of organic hibiscus iced tea. “Are you reconciling things with your ex?”
His expression grows somber. “No. Not at all.”
I shrug, foraging through the lettuce leaves on my plate in search of the best ones. “All right. Just thought I’d ask. I’m going to school to be a therapist, so I’m kind of fascinated with people and the inner-workings of relationships in general. Forgive me if I’m being invasive. Sometimes I forget that not everyone likes to have these kinds of conversations. I’m more than happy to discuss how my mouth tastes like a flower garden right now. . .”
He laughs.
I glance up, giving him a tender smile that he promptly returns. Weston seems sweet, but there’s something guarded behind those blues of his. I’m willing to bet money he’s the kind of guy who keeps everyone at an arm’s length.
And Weston has some pretty decent-sized guns.
“Nah.” He shoves a final bite of his sandwich between his lips, wiping his fingers on a recycled brown napkin. “It’s fine. I’d been with Elle since high school. Ten years, I guess. We’d just grown into completely different people. She wanted to go home to Tennessee to be closer to family. And then she wanted to get married and have a bunch of babies. My career was taking off. Neither of us wanted to force the other to sacrifice their dreams. Splitting up was the only humane solution.”
“Wow.” I rest an elbow on the table, my chin resting on my hand. “That’s really sweet. And dignified. You realize how lucky you are. A split after an entire decade together can sometimes get ugly. Not for the faint of heart.”
“Yeah.” His jaw flexes as he stares at his empty plate. “I suppose you’re right.”
“You still love her?”
“Always. We grew up together. We’re still friends. Still talk every day.”
“You just going to love her forever?”
He’s quiet, twisting a crumpled straw wrapper between his fingers.
“One of these days, she will move on,” I say gently. “And she’ll get married. And have those babies. And it won’t be with you.” I resist the urge to place my hand on his when I see his mouth tighten. “All I’m saying is you need to put yourself first. And you might want to think about getting back out there at some point in the very near future.”
He drops the wrapper and leans back in his chair, arms folded, jaw tight. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“You’re lucky to have loved someone for that long though,” I muse. “My longest relationship lasted eleven months. We couldn’t even make it to a year without almost killing each other.” I lean in, brows scrunched. “You know, now that I think about it, Zane reminds me a lot of my ex. Smug face. Smart mouth. Too good looking.”
“Don’t let Zane know you find him attractive.” Weston’s lips twitch at the corners. “If his head gets any bigger, it’ll explode.”
“I’m sure he’s well aware.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe that’s why I find him completely obnoxious.”
“You don’t like Zane?” The look on Weston’s face is a mix of confusion and amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only woman I’ve ever known to speak those words. You know, that’s damn near blasphemous in these parts.”
“Let’s just say we didn’t exactly hit it off at his party and things have sort of gone downhill since then. We can’t have a civilized conversation. One of us always makes a left turn and it gets ugly fast.”
“Zane has a tendency to be his own brand of asshole sometimes,” Weston says. “But at the end of the day, he’s got a good heart. His past has been a bit of a crooked line, but he’s making progress. He’s working his ass off to turn things around.”
“Tell that to my aunt. She’s convinced he’s a bad seed.” I take another sip of tea, brows lifted. “You think he’s a good person?”
“I do.” Weston doesn’t hesitate, and his mouth rises in the corner. “His mouth gets him in trouble from time to time, but that’s Zane.”
I think about the daffodils sitting in a crystal vase on my nightstand. Rue wanted to toss them out last weekend, but I wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I removed them from her presence, and she seemed to have forgotten about them ever since.