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Maybe it’s for the best. Speaking about my intentions doesn’t matter when I have years of mistakes and mistrust to overcome.
But that starts today.
Lana and I spend the rest of the afternoon searching Pinterest for different ideas. She points out everything she likes, and together we quickly create a few different boards for each of the rooms in the house. It doesn’t take us long to determine Lana hates futuristic modern ideas almost as much as I dislike mid-century style. Together, we decide the best option is to go with a transitional modern style.
“I think I’m in love.” Lana sighs to herself as she scrolls through the board we made for the bathroom one last time.
“I shared the links with Ryder so he can get to work finding something that matches our vision.”
“I’m jealous of whomever gets to buy the place. It’s like everything I ever wanted all in one house.”
My chest aches at the look of pure longing on her face.
“You can always recreate it.”
She snorts. “With what money? The only reason we’re even doing this is because of you.”
I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from saying anything.
With a sigh, she shuts my laptop. “I better go pick up Cami from summer camp.”
“Do you care if I join you?”
Her brows jump. “You want to come?”
“Sure. It’s not like I have much else to do.” I motion toward the empty house.
“I need to pass by the grocery store on the way home though.”
“Okay?” Is that supposed to discourage me or something?
Her eyes flicker over me. “You’re serious.”
I roll my eyes as I stand. “Do you want to drive my car or yours?”
Her mouth pops open.
“What?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Let’s take mine.”
“What’s wrong with my car?”
“Besides the fact that it isn’t ideal or probably safe for a kid?” She stands as tall as she can, with the top of her head barely reaching my chin.
“You didn’t have a problem with it when you needed a ride to the school.”
“Because I was desperate and didn’t want to miss Cami’s graduation.” Her lips thin.
“You’re going to drive?”
“Of course. It’s the twenty-first century. Women can drive men around now.”
God help us all.
She spends the short drive to Cami’s summer camp laughing at the expletives that pour out of my mouth. Whatever small bit of restraint she showed while driving my car is gone.
A few people removing the leftover Fourth of July decorations from Main Street wave at her, and she honks before turning the wheel.
