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5
Nora
“Don’t go,” Campbell said. “I only just got home.”
“I know. Work is work though,” I said, wincing slightly at the lie. “This couple is pretty demanding.”
As much as I wanted to hang out at Campbell’s return party, I couldn’t stay here another minute. Not after August. And telling my brothers about it would end in bloodshed.
“You sure you’re okay, shrimp?”
I nodded and hoped it was convincing. “Totally.” I hefted my phone. “Just work. You know?”
He ruffled my hair lightly. “Well, come out for my birthday at least. Blaire said she got a reservation. Ask her for the details.”
“I will.”
At least that made me smile. I’d worried that he’d caught on to what we were doing, but so far, so good. I’d be composed again by then. I needed time alone to deal with what had happened.
I waved at the girls and Hollin and then fled the scene. I was halfway home when I remembered that I wasn’t going home to an empty house.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I’d planned to snag some ice cream and unleash my tears, but I didn’t exactly want West to hear that. It was one thing to cry alone, but another thing entirely for someone to see me still mourning this bullshit. August had demolished my life, and I still didn’t know how to get over it.
My heart ached at the thought. Why couldn’t I move on like anyone else? Ten months was long enough to suffer, wasn’t it?
With a sigh, I abruptly turned the wheel down the next street and veered into the parking lot of my favorite nursery—Apple’s Nursery. Apple was the owner’s nickname for his wife, who had been working by his side at the place for thirty years. She was adorable and always so helpful. We’d gotten real fond of each other. Despite that fact, I avoided the front, not ready to face anyone I knew, and meandered down the aisles of greenery.
I hadn’t gotten into plants until after Weston left. I’d wanted to get a kitten or a puppy, but my wedding days were long. It felt cruel to leave a pet home alone all day. But plants? Plants I could keep alive. And it had gone from one potted monstera, which I’d been assured was nearly impossible to kill, to a veritable trove of greenery.
At the back of the place, I found a single orange flowering plant—a clivia, if my research was correct. It bloomed at the end of February and into March with the prettiest sunset flowers. I needed a sunset today.
I took the clivia up to the front and found Apple waiting for me.
“Plant therapy?” she asked intuitively.
“Nothing fixes your problems quite like buying another plant.”
Apple laughed softly. “A girl as pretty and young as you can’t have too many problems.”
My lips wobbled. “I wish that were true.”
“Still having boy trouble?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Just trying to move on, but my ex is now engaged to that girl.”
“The one he left you for?” Apple asked with a gasp.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“How foolish of him.” Apple put her hand on mine. “Chin up, dear. You’re much better than that young man. You don’t need him. You need to find someone else who sees how brightly you shine.”
“Thanks, Apple.”
“And come back by to see me soon.”
I promised that I would and then headed back to my car. The new plant did make me feel better, but Apple’s words echoed in my head. I wanted to forget August, but how the hell did I even begin to find someone new?
That was a mystery I had no clue how to solve, but at least I was calmer by the time I got back to Weston’s house. When I stepped inside, my cheeks heated, and I nearly dropped my plant. Well, damn. Weston Wright had been working out because he was currently in nothing but basketball shorts, and he was ripped. I swallowed as my eyes traveled down the six-pack and to the V that disappeared into his shorts.
“Nora!” he said, popping the top on a Coke. “You’re home early.”
“Yeah.” I blinked and forced myself to look at anything else. It was hard to pull my gaze elsewhere, but then I took in the rest of the kitchen and realized he was cooking. “You’re making dinner?”
“Uh, yeah, lasagna. Did you eat at your dad’s?”
“I didn’t actually.” I set the clivia down on the table and shrugged out of my jacket. “I left before burgers.”
“Really? Why?”
I looked at my feet. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right,” he agreed easily. “You want some lasagna? It’s almost done.”
