“I’m standing and I’m currently not crying.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It’s all I've got, Zo.”
Zoe sets the spoons down and studies me with that careful expression she’s been wearing for three weeks, like I’m glass, like one wrong sound might shatter me all over her tile floor. She's not exactly wrong. “You could try talking to him again,” she says gently.
My stomach twists so hard I have to look away.“Stop.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. He made up his mind.”
“He was hurt.”
“He accused me of using him.” My voice stays low, but something sharp creeps into it anyway. “He accused me of pretending to care about him and about Penelope. He’s not going to suddenly think his version of events is acceptable.”
Zoe sighs like she’s tired of having this conversation forty times a week when she’s the one who's always bringing it up.
I wipe at an invisible spot on the counter. “He’s probably already moved on anyway.”
Zoe gives me a flat look. “Carly.”
“What?”
“You really think Grayson processed a major emotional event in three weeks and moved on like a healthy adult?”
I hate that I almost smile.Almost.
“He hasn’t.”The voice comes from the front of the shop.
Male, familiar, and deep enough to make my spine go stiff before my head even lifts.For one breathless, idiotic second, I hope it’s him.
But I look up and see Maddox walking in with Cole right behind him.My stomach sinks like a damn stone.
Zoe’s expression changes immediately. “Who…?”
Cole looks around the empty stretch of shop, then back at me.Maddox has his hands in his jacket pockets, his face unusually serious.
I straighten behind the counter, my body thankfully still remembering how to act professional around men connected toGrayson, even while wearing an apron with a coffee stain across the stomach.
“Zoe, this is Cole and Maddox. Friends of Grayson’s,” I say, hating the way my throat closes in a little on his name. “What can I get you guys?”
Cole’s mouth pulls to one side. “We’re not here for coffee.”
“Shame. It’s really the only thing I’m offering right now.”
Zoe makes a soft noise beside me. Warning or sympathy, I’m not sure.
Maddox steps closer to the counter. “He hasn’t moved on.”
I grip the towel in my hand until my fingers ache. “Okay, and?”
Cole frowns. “Carly.”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, irritation bleeding into my voice. “Congratulations? That’s sad? I’m not exactly thriving either.”
“We know,” Maddox says.
