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“What makes you think I need help dealing with it?” I demanded.
“Honey, we both know you can’t be trusted to do this on your own.”
“Okay,” I said. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Well,” I began, moving a step forward in line. “He came to my uncle’s wake. He just walked right in wearing a black suit and…”
“How did he look?” Ian asked.
“Handsome,” I said. Even I knew that was an understatement. “Amazing, actually.”
“Swoon,” Ian cooed. “Continue.”
“He walked in. We made eye contact and I bolted. I just ran out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t stop running until I made it two streets over.”
“Why?” Ian asked. His tone suggested I was certifiably insane.
“Because I’m chicken shit. I couldn’t face him,” I explained. “Not after everything.”
“But you said you talked?” Ian asked. “Did he follow you? Oh my god, did he run after you? Because that would just melt my heart.”
“No, he didn’t follow me,” I scoffed. “That’s not Logan’s style.”
“Maybe it wasn’t five years ago, but you don’t know what his style is now.”
“I guess that’s true,” I shrugged. “But, in any case, he didn’t follow me. I went back to the pub and found my mom. Everyone else was gone, so I decided to walk home. Logan found me in the town square.”
“What did he say?” Ian demanded.
“Nothing important,” I said, rolling my eyes again. “This isn’t a love story, Ian. You aren’t going to be able to live vicariously through me on this one.”
“I refuse to believe that,” Ian said dismissively. I could almost see him waving his hand impatiently. “What did he say?”
“He said he was sorry for my loss, that it was good to see me, that I looked beautiful… that kind of thing.”
“Swoon!” Ian said again.
“Don’t do that!” I snapped. “He didn’t mean it. He was just playing into some script in his head that he’s been carrying around. Logan left me, remember?”
“And then he came back,” Ian said.
“No, I came back and I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t.”
I sighed deeply and moved another step forward. It was almost my turn to order. I was ready to get off the phone with Ian, but I knew he wasn’t done talking.
“Piper,” Ian said. “Listen to me, okay? Don’t let this become one of those things you don’t deal with.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
“You hide,” he said bluntly. “It’s what you do when things get rough. You run. You hide. You avoid. You, Piper Prewitt, are an avoider.”
“I am not,” I argued.
“You are,” Ian insisted. “And that’s okay, because I get it. You’ve had to stay strong any way you could, but maybe it’s time to let your guard down.”
“With Logan?” I asked.
