Page 127 of For the Love of Art

Don leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you for today, Isla. And for every day you gave me. Nathan is a lucky man.”

I swallowed my emotion and nodded.

I didn’t want to tell Don that Nathan and I were no longer together. Today wasn’t about me. Today was about Eleanor.

“I better go back in,” Don said, looking at the room.

I nodded. “Yeah. Congratulations again. Tell Marissa that as well.”

“I will. Goodbye, Isla.”

“Goodbye, Don.”

On my way back to my side of the city, I decided to stop at the cheese shop. Maybe Lianne wasn’t ready to talk to me, but I needed to talk to her. There were many relationships I’d lost in the last year that sucked, but losing Lianne would dwarf the pain of the others.

The bell over the door announced my arrival, and Lianne looked up.

I expected her to tell me to get lost, and I’d prepared a speech for why I wouldn’t, but instead, she said, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

I hadn’t prepared for if she were willing to speak to me. I tried to rework my apology, but I wasn’t fast enough.

“I was just thinking about texting you.” She adjusted her bright red glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Oh?”

All words were lost. My apology was now jumbled; I only wanted to run around the counter and hug her.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m mad, but I also can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Li, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you everything sooner.” I stepped closer to the counter, hating that it separated us.

“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole.”

“Can we hug?” I asked.

Lianne groaned. “If we must.”

She walked around the counter, and we wrapped our arms around each other.

“I missed you,” she said.

“I missed you too.”

We pulled apart, and her brows came together. “Can you promise that you will just tell me shit from now on? Even the bad shit.”

I crossed my heart. “Promise.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever not talked for that long,” Lianne said. “I didn’t like it.”

“Me either.”

Lianne wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I don’t have booze, but I have blue cheese. That’s got to have a kick, right?”

“You own a cheese shop and don’t know if blue cheese has a kick?” I asked.

“You tease, but I’ve always been afraid of the stuff.” She walked back around the counter and pulled out a particularly veiny cheese.