“I’m really sick of answering that question,” I reply, glaring at my friend. “Seriously, we all need to move on.”
“Hey, I haven’t seen you since it all went down, so I get to ask.”
“I’m hurting and I’m tired and I’m pretty sure everyone hates hanging out with me these days because I’m a bitch.” I smile sweetly. “But I’m fantastic.”
“Well, you’re still a smart-ass, so that’s a good sign.”
“A good sign of what?”
“I don’t know, it just sounded like a good thing to say.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re funny.”
“And your nails look like you’ve been clawing at the walls.”
“I cleaned my condo on Sunday from top to bottom with no gloves.” I shrug. “I clean when I’m stressed out.”
“Next time, come clean my house.”
“You have four kids. I wouldn’t even clean your house with gloves on.”
We’re both laughing as Cici’s husband comes into her studio carrying a huge bouquet of pink roses. “Sorry to interrupt, but these were just delivered for you, Addie.”
“Wow,” Cici says with wide eyes. “You don’t send me flowers like that.”
“I don’t think I screw up as big as this guy must have,” he replies with a wink and returns to the main house.
“There are a lot of flowers here,” I mutter, staring at the beautiful pink blooms. “He sent sixty-three yesterday, and there’s more than that here.”
“He sent flowers yesterday too?” Cici asks.
“Yeah.”
She pulls the card out of its plastic holder and passes it to me before burying her nose in the fragrant blooms. “Seriously, my husband needs to pick up his game.”
A—
A pink rose for when I think of kissing your gorgeous lips. Not one for every time because they’d never all fit in one room, but a hundred is a start. I miss you.
—J
“Marry him. Right now.”
I shake my head and tuck the card in my purse, next to the other three notes from Jake. “He’s not mine.”
“But it’s clear that he could be. Aren’t you being stubborn?”
“Yes.” I nod and sit back in the chair. “And you know why? Because when I forgive, I just get my heart trampled on again and again, and I’m not settling for that again. He tossed me away. He doesn’t get me back.”
“I’M GOING TO lock you out of the kitchen,” I warn Mia the next afternoon, right before we open for lunch. “I’m serious, Mia, you need a day off.”
“I took last Tuesday off,” she says stubbornly, glaring at Kat and me. “I need to check on the new appetizer menu.”
“No. You don’t.” Kat crosses her arms over her chest. “Go home, Mia.”
Mia’s dark brown eyes are furious as she spins and stomps out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind her.
“I hate that she won’t voluntarily take days off,” I murmur. “Even one day a week.”
“I know,” Kat replies, her eyes widening at something over my shoulder. “Um, I think those are for you.”
I spin around and am met with a smiling delivery boy—the same one from Monday—and more white roses than I can count.
“For me?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can just put them on the bar.”
He complies, grins again, then leaves, mentally counting his tips from all the deliveries he’s making to me, I’m sure.
“This is crazy,” I mutter as I press my nose against one of the soft blooms.
“Read the card,” Kat says with a grin. All of the girls have come to love his cards, most likely because of the sweet way he has with words.
No wonder he’s won Grammys for the songs he’s written.
A—
These smell the best, and when I touch them, they remind me of the softness of your sweet skin. I don’t know how many there are, I told them to just send them all. I miss you, so much.
—J
I simply rest my head on the bar, right against the wood, and let the tears come.
“I have to tell him to stop,” I cry. “I can’t do this anymore, Kat. I just can’t. You were right: the more I hear from him, the more it hurts.”
“Wow, Jake,” I hear from behind me. I quickly wipe my cheeks and turn to find Christina gaping at the display of white roses. “He might have gone a little crazy with this one.”
I nod, mortified that she heard my crying. The only thing worse would be if Jake himself heard me.
And I’ll be damned if that ever happens.
“What can I do for you, Christina?”
“I was hoping that you’d have time for me to take you to lunch. I’d really love to chat with you.”
“I don’t really—”
“Sure you do,” Kat says with an innocent smile. “Go ahead and go.”
I glare at her, then turn back to Christina. “So, here’s the thing. I’d love to chat with you, but I don’t want to talk about Jake.”
“Perfect.” She smiles and leads me out into the sunny Portland afternoon. “Actually, do you mind if we just walk down to the park?”
“Works for me.”
We walk in silence. I didn’t realize how nice it would be to be out in the fresh air. It feels good.