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ChapterThree
Devon ignored Oz’s comment and marched onward, determined to be the first to down some hopefully decent coffee and try to pretend she was perfectly capable of handling everything getting thrown at her.
Besides, she hadn’t left him at the altar but called things off before—well, packing her bags and leaving to escape the upset she’d caused by calling off the wedding with only days to spare.
She couldn’t even be surprised that Oz was there, because he had always been an extension of the family.
Her first love had grown up down the street, an only child who’d joined the gang of cousins playing in yards and on the boardwalk, drawn to the noise and fun and snacks from the Babes.
It wasn’t long before Oz stayed for meals and attended special gatherings, accompanied them on campouts, and went on vacations with them since he was best friends with her cousin Michael.
After Oz’s mother had died of cancer, the Babes had done all they could to help Oz’s single father cope by both feeding them and taking Oz off the man’s hands as much as possible.
But between Devon’s late-night gala and early-morning recordings, the shock of the accident, and now this?
Her energy level dragged, and her emotions were as fried as most everything was in the south. Then burnt to a crisp just for kicks.
Ted had refused her offer to take the ring back, and while that in and of itself should have relieved some of her anxiety about the situation, something in his expression hadn’t helped.
Ted had given her a sad, slightly frustrated stare, curled her fingers with his, and lifted her hand for a kiss.
Then the apartment door had shut softly behind him as he left without another word.
Now she wore the beautiful ring but wondered if she was really engaged. Would tomorrow morning’s headlines be the deciding factor for Ted?
The stress of her relationship added to the news of her father’s accident and the conditions surrounding it, his critical condition, and she was just done for the day. The week. So very done.
The last thing she wanted was to have to answer questions she didn’t have the answers to regarding her relationship with Ted.
“You can’t just ignore him, you know,” Dara said from behind her.
Devon discreetly slid the stone around her finger so that it didn’t show. She stepped up to the all-night coffee and snack bar and ordered first, leaving the tab open for those behind her after sliding the barista enough cash to cover the drinks plus a generous tip. “I’m not ignoring anyone.”
“Oh, really? How do you figure that?” Dara asked.
Devon shifted down the counter toward the pickup area. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is,” she said as she passed Dara.
Dara huffed and, after she placed her order, moved to join Devon.
“It wouldn’t be difficult at all if you’d just talk to him. Get rid of all the weirdness. It was ten years ago, and you were the one who broke things off. Isn’t it time to apologize and put things behind you?”
“I have.”
“Ohhh, no, you haven’t,” Dara argued. “You haven’t settled anything, you’ve avoided. Him and us, if we’re being completely honest.”
Devon felt Oz’s gaze on her from across the hospital’s coffee shop and moved toward the windows.
Down below, a bevy of journalists waited like vultures, and she found herself embarrassed to be linked to the same profession. Journalists did plenty of good in the world. They exposed wrongs, revealed corruption, and highlighted the stories people needed to hear.
But some also exploited situations like this for the sensationalism and shock value with no thought or care given to the innocent family members hurt in the backlash and fallout.
She stood at the window, unable to believe the shocking details Dara had told her on the flight to Wilmington. Details her sister had gotten firsthand from Oliver Beck’s bodyguard. She could only imagine what the man had thought when he’d found her father and the woman and realized what had happened.
“Your coffee,” a low voice said from behind her.
She turned sideways and focused on the cup with her name on it, rather than the masculine hand holding it for the exchange.
“Devon, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. Now’s not the time to delve into history. And seeing that it is old news, let’s just put it behind us and move on. Water and bridge. Okay?”
