“Well, now you have two less things on your plate. You can go back to normal.” She eyed me over the rim of her glass. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
“Right.”What if that’s not what I want?
Everything seemed to be happening too fast. Last week, I’d spilled my guts to Preston in the bed of his truck, and now I was evaluating my future with him. Or without him. The only thing I knew for sure was it wouldn’t be easy to go back to being sorta friends with him. Despite what I’d told myself, he’d become more than the ruse, more than my fake boyfriend. The perception of a relationship had become my reality. And I didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
Chapter Fourteen
Leave the Door Open
Preston
“Hey, Preston.”
Dallas was a sight for sore eyes after the day I’d had yesterday. We hadn’t seen each other since yesterday morning because I’d been busy handling my mother’s care. “Hey.” I pressed a kiss to her neck, her chin, and finally her lips. “Are you ready for your flight?”
“Yeah.” She followed me into the kitchen. “Are you cooking breakfast? I have to be at the airport soon.”
I pulled out a bowl. “If you call pouring a bowl of cereal cooking, then I guess I am.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “While you’re at it, you can pour me one of those too.”
I’d discovered Dallas’ love for Honeycomb cereal the first time she’d spent the night here. When I’d tried to get up and make her breakfast, she’d agreed until she’d seen my full box of cereal. After I fixed her cereal, I set the bowl in front of her, smiling when she popped one of the pieces into her mouth.
“How’s your mom?” she asked. Dallas’ cousin, Courtney, had facilitated the move to an inpatient rehab facility in Northern Michigan and had referred my mom to one of the best therapists in the field.
“The transfer went well with a few minor setbacks,” I explained. The long drive had made my mother car sick, and the driver had been forced to pull over a couple of times. “She’s all settled in her room. I can’t thank you enough for asking your cousin to help.”
“It’s no trouble. I hope she works the program.”
“I hope she does too.” I wasn’t fooling myself into believing all would be well after the talk I’d had with her. But I didn’t feel the despair I’d felt even a few weeks ago. “The only thing I can do is give her the resources. It’s up to her whether she’ll use them.”
“Right.” She released a slow breath. “I’ll say a prayer for her—and for you.”
We ate our cereal in silence. I took a moment to study her, the way she stirred her spoon in her bowl over and over, her downturned mouth. Dallas wasn’t usually this quiet. Normally, she’d be telling me about work, about one of her crazy clients while we ate. But today…she wasn’t herself, and it concerned me. “Are you okay?” I asked.
She jumped and looked at me. “Huh?”
“You seem preoccupied. Did something happen at work yesterday?”
“No.”
“Is it your family?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Tristan came by the office, though.”
“He’s back?”
“Apparently, he never left. He was just laying low.”
I waited for her to continue. When another moment passed, I set my spoon down. “Dallas, what’s wrong?”
She flattened a hand over her stomach and stood. “I got good news yesterday.” She averted her gaze. “Tristan found out Kimball has been cheating on his wife. Not with me, of course. But he has pictures that’ll be leaked today and, hopefully, close the door on me being the foil in their relationship.”
The sinking feeling in my gut was back. But I didn’t have to be a psychic to know what was coming next. I followed her to the sofa and sat next to her. “That is good news.”
“But that’s not it.” She swallowed. It also wasn’t like Dallas to beat around the bush. She was direct, which told me she was conflicted about something. “Maya told me the board is ready to move forward with my nomination to the org.”
This is over. The reason Dallas seemed weird was because we’d come to the end of the charade, and she didn’t know how to tell me. But I still needed to hear her say the words. Because after everything, after the nights together, the secrets shared, I wanted to hear from her own mouth that it didn’t mean anything to her. “Which means…?”
