But I didn’t want to run a business. I wanted to feed people. I wanted something akin to the feeling I got when we all sat down to our last meal at the summer house every year—here is how food brings us together. Here is one of the most human, basic things, and we’ve gathered around to make something beautiful.
It seemed harmless not to tell Hank at first. To keep my good news to myself. While I knew Laurel texted her momand grandmother every minute detail of her life, Hank and I had always been a little more need-to-know.Things are good, I’m safe,yesI want to go to the game next weekend, no we don’t need to talk about that guy I was seeing for a while. That sort of thing.
And I told myself it didn’t mean much anyway—I’d let him know eventually, and I could couch it as more press for the restaurant. A whole new client base to bring in, now and when I started running the place. Which I was partially convinced I would still do. Even if I didn’t want it, I hadn’t fully let it go. A pattern, it would seem, in my life. Selective fixation.
Everett is still waiting for my response, ever patient, ever focused. “I just...” I start, kicking a toe against the floor. “Hank has done everything for me.” I swallow, afraid to say the next part out loud. “How do you disappoint someone who’s done everything for you?”
Everett’s brow draws down. Half of me can’t believe I’ve said it, and to him of all people. The other half is relieved to have it out there and, if I’m honest, not all that surprised that it’s Everett I’ve said it to. Laurel and I aren’t exactly having many deep talks lately, and while I know Gabe and Davi would be sympathetic, they think differently about this sort of thing than I do. To Davi, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Gabe would ask why I couldn’t do both.
“I know what you’re going to say,” I cut in, needing to beat Everett to the punch. “Hank loves me, he just wants me to be happy, I’m not a disappointment. It doesn’t change anything.”
At first, Everett doesn’t respond. He just looks at me, and I know I’m right. But then, just as I’m about to start talking again, he responds.
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
I frown. Everett leans a little closer to me.
“All of that is true,” he says. “Hank loves you, he does justwant you to be happy, and you aren’t a disappointment.” He pauses. “But maybe this does disappoint him,” he continues. “And that’s okay.”
I suck in a breath like I might respond, like a retort is already brimming behind my teeth, but nothing comes. My shoulders tense, eyes narrowing in Everett’s direction.
“It’s your life, Sutton,” he says quietly. “You’ve got to do what you want with it.”
For a minute, I let those good memories rise up to the surface. How it always was between us before the one moment I now let define Everett for me. Easy, I used to think. Simple. But further down, if I linger long enough in the past, something deeper. Not as surface level as I’ve convinced myself it was. A connection no one could make up. I think about who we used to be, and it makes these past forty-eight hours seem so foolish.
“I didn’t come here this week wanting to fight with you,” I say.
I see one corner of Everett’s mouth twitch, and I almost want to say it for him, for the past version of him that seems to have followed us into this cabin.Could have fooled me.
“Neither did I,” Everett says instead, and I’m almost disappointed. “Seems like we both failed.”
I almost want to ask why, where he thinks all the fight in us came from if neither of us intended it, but there’s a shadow lurking on the other side of that question, too big for me to consider right now.
“How would you feel about a truce?” he asks.
I’m surprised at the small chime of disappointment that rings through me. A truce seems almost temporary, acknowledges that there isn’t anything beyond this week. But I know that already. Everett hasn’t been in my future for years now, so it’sunreasonable to feel a little duped by atrucefor the rest of the week. It’s what Laurel asked of us, after all.
I nod and hold a hand out to him to shake. His palm is warm against mine as he takes it. “I can’t promise I’ll be your best friend,” I say.
Everett grins as he squeezes my hand. “Wouldn’t expect any less from you, Hale,” he says, the old nickname sending a zip down my spine. We let go and I tuck my hands quickly under my legs as Everett glances at the watch on his wrist.
“Well, thirty minutes is about up,” he says. “You proved yourself.”
“Proved myself?”
Everett nods. “You mastered your phobia,” he says. “You’re never one to back down from a challenge.”
“Hey,” I say as it dawns on me what he did. “Offering to get Laurel to open the door isn’t exactly achallenge.”
“It was enough of one for you,” he says. “Congratulations, Sutton. You’re two for two.”
“That was sneaky,” I say.
Everett shrugs. “Worked last time.”
For a minute, the tension in my body relaxes. I let myself just sit here with Everett as if nothing is wrong. As if we didn’t hurt each other, and all the anger between us has just floated off into the ether. As if we’ve actually, finally moved on. “Yeah,” I say. “I guess it did.”
sixteen
