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She was almost at the car before I finally grew some balls—although I had no idea what I wanted to say.
“Summer…wait.”
I made my way to the end of Jayce’s row where she stood, only to stare down at my feet like an awkward schoolboy. “You look good,” I said.
“How can you tell when you aren’t looking at me?” I heard the humor in her voice. She hadn’t changed, even after all these years.
I looked up, and she smiled. It was genuine and real. Summer didn’t hold anger or grudges.
“Are you happy?” I asked.
Her hand went to her stomach, and she rubbed a small bump I hadn’t noticed. “I am. I’m four months pregnant and have morning sickness all day and night. But I’m happy.” She pointed over to the car. “That’s my husband, Alan.”
Wow. I looked over at the parked car. I hadn’t noticed anyone sitting in it. Really on your game today. “Congratulations.”
Her eyes searched my face. “Give me a minute, okay?”
I nodded, mostly because I had no idea what she was talking about. But she walked over to the car and spoke to her husband behind the wheel. Leaning into the window, she kissed him before he started the engine.
When she returned to where I stood, the car drove away. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. Alan’s going to give us a little while to catch up.”
I started walking along side of her, unsure where we were going or what she might have to say.
“Are you married?” she asked.
“No.”
“Divorced?”
“No.”
“Kids?”
“No.”
She looked over, studying me. “You still have no idea, do you?”
The question could’ve referred to a million things, but I knew exactly what she was asking. “No. I told you, I don’t want to know.”
“So you still don’t have any symptoms?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
We walked in silence until the path came to a fork. We turned right.
“Have you fallen in love since we broke up?”
I didn’t have to consider it. “Her name’s Natalia.”
“How does she feel about your decision to not get tested?”
While I thought about how to answer, Summer came to the correct conclusion.
She nodded. “You dumped me because you didn’t want to put me through possibly watching you get sick. I tried for months to get you to change your mind. So I’m guessing your warped brain now thinks it’s easier to not even tell someone you care about. Just love ’em and leave ’em with no explanation so they hate you. Am I right? She doesn’t know you have a fifty-fifty chance of developing Huntington’s disease. Or that you’re too stubborn to get tested.”
“What good would it do? So she can worry about me?”
Summer stopped. “I thought you said you loved her.”
