AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’d wanted to confront Seymour, demand to know what the hell was going on and let him know that he either manned up or I moved on. I didn’t want to do the latter, so I was really hoping for the former.
When I’d gotten home, he was in the living room and seemed so happy to see me, to the point he was almost relieved I wasn’t gone longer, that I decided to wait and enjoy the chance to be alone with him.
It didn’t go as I’d hoped, though, as he’d shared that Peter was planning on proposing to my grandma. As thrilled as I was for that, it hurt to finally accept that perhaps Seymour and I wouldn’t be that lucky. At least not with each other.
Eventually, I’ll accept – lie! I’ll resign myself to it – that it is what it is, but I’m not there yet. Seeing him is hard, especially as I know there will come a day when he’ll bring a woman home to meet the family, that being what he must see me as. It’ll hurt like hell, yet I truly want him to be happy, even if it isn’t with me.
I really need to stop lying to myself.
–––
Hope is a strength and a weakness, I realize as I see Seymour striding toward me, scowling at the man currently talking to me. Another victim of the matchmaking ladies of Sweetville. As with the others, he doesn’t seem invested, merely going along to appease his relative or friend. I can appreciate that and engage in conversation, thankful when the nudge to ask me out is ignored and we part with a polite salutation.
This time, I don’t think that’s happening. Oh, not the exchange between me and the innocent guy. That happens as usual. It’s Seymour that’s the difference. He is pissed.
“She’s taken. Find your own damn woman,” he demands as he squares off against the guy. I swear I hear his companion, as well as all the other women that have gathered around my booth, including Ella, exclaim variations of the same thing.
“Finally!”
“Took him long enough.”
“I was starting to worry I’d die before he got his head out of his ass.” That was courtesy of Ella.
“Who had today in the pool?”
When my grandma responds, “I did,” I whip around to stare at her in shock. “What?” She asks not so innocently. “I had a feeling.”
I can’t help it. I laugh and so does Seymour until he sobers and wants to know, “What is going on here?” He’s still mad, but it’s dwindling. A little.
“You got played, son,” Peter announces, shaking his head. “We had to intervene. Otherwise you would’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to you. A nudge here and there was necessary.”
Seymour stands there, realization creeping over his face. A second later, he comes to my side, throws me over his shoulder, and hollers for the grands to take over. “Where are you two going?” My grandma inquires. Oh, now she’s concerned. I’m surprised she’s not too busy counting her winnings to chime in.
“To have a chat with my fiancée.” The crowd cheers, drowning out my sputtering, as Seymour strolls off, depositing me in his truck. I fully admit to attempting to exit my seat as he goes to get in his. He’s been difficult for a while, so now it’s my turn. “Unless you want to have trouble sitting for the rest of the day, I suggest you stay right where you are until I move you.”
Irritated with him I may be, but holy moly, that’s hot. I give my libido a quick talking to, telling it to simmer down, except it ignores me and continues to get excited about this aspect of Seymour’s personality.
“I messed up,” he admits. That, I can say, is just as hot. If not more so. A man that not only knows he made a mistake, then also acknowledges it out loud to the wronged party? I want to have his babies.
“How so?” I hedge, curious as to what he’s labeling as such.
“I didn’t take what I wanted when I wanted.”
“And that would be?”
He scoffs. “Don’t be coy. You’re straightforward and I love that about you.”
“Gulp.”
Seymour flashes me a grin. “You said we have a thing. I agreed.”
“Until you didn’t,” I mumble, unwilling to acquiesce so soon.
“I never didn’t,” he corrects me as he pulls into our driveway. I glance at him in disbelief. “Hear me out,” he pleads and I nod. He deserves that, as do I. Then he proceeds to tell me that he was scared to risk the happiness his grandpa found with my grandma.
“How would…? Oh.”
“No matter how much we plan, how much wehope, life doesn’t always play nice. Things happen. Fate steps in and…” He shrugs, not leaving the sentence unfinished, but indicating that, as he’s suggesting, the unknown can occur.
