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Not that she had confessed her revelation toanybody. For now, she was content to let friends and family think she was the injured party. On those grounds, no one would give her any grief while she stumbled around trying to figure out her life.
Why hadn’t she stood up to her parents? Why hadn’t she insisted on a small wedding in Blossom Branch? Under those circumstances, it would have been far easier for Jason to have talked to her before it was too late.
With the clarity of time, she saw that she had been a coward. Jason had represented safety. Everyone approved of her choice of groom. To have admitted her mistake early on would have been unthinkable.
She was twelve when she’d been forced to leave Blossom Branch, and her world had been upended. Since that time, playing the part of thegoodgirl had been her safety net, a role she once embraced, but now had come to resent.
So she’d learned a valuable lesson. From now on, she wouldn’t be pressured into doing something that didn’t feel right. It wasn’t that the big wedding was inherently wrong. But it had been wrong for her.
Fifteen
Over the next forty-five minutes, her list grew to a dozen entries. Some of them were exciting. A few were chores she dreaded. Like moving her things out of Jason’s apartment. She was afraid of how it would feel to walk back inside those walls where she and her one-time fiancé had shared so much fun.
Would she mourn him all over again?
She hoped not.
She did, in fact, move the Harry item to number one. With every day that passed, something was happening between the two of them. It was probably one-sided. But then again, hehadkissed her.
It could have been a joke. His way of coping with a smashed-up knee. People made odd choices in the midst of trauma.
As she heard Harry’s crutches on the stairs, she quickly shut her laptop. Her face flushed. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.
When he made it to the living room, she cocked her head and studied him. He was dressed in casual business attire. The upscale sport coat over a crisp dress shirt and dark khaki pants fit him perfectly.
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the knee?” she asked.
Harry looked pale beneath his tan. And there were lines at the corners of his mouth that indicated he might be clenching his jaw.
He shrugged. “Not terrible.”
“Liar.”
“Don’t start with me, Cate.”
“You’ve barely been up for three hours, and you’re in pain. Either call your mother and cancel or take a pill. Heck, take half a pill if that will satisfy your stupid macho code.”
He exhaled. “I’m not being macho. Dealing with my mother requires all my attention. I need to be sharp.”
“That makes no sense at all, but okay. I’m going to be with you. Can’t I run interference?”
“I think you should drop me off and pick me up at one.”
Cate gaped. “Did you not tell her I was coming with you?”
“I sent her a text. So the lunch count would be correct. But I’m having second thoughts.”
“Well, I’m not,” Cate said. “Sit down while I go get your medicine.”
To her surprise, Harry cooperated. When she came downstairs with the translucent orange bottle, she rattled it in one hand. “Half or whole? Your call.”
“Half,” he muttered.
“There’s a little coffee left in the pot. Or the apple juice.”
“Juice is fine.”
She wanted to look at his knee, but his pants were not the kind to roll up easily. “How bad is the swelling?”
