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And then, at the same time, they all three said, “Baby steps.”
The topic of Ophelia ended with that, the conversation turning back to the wedding and my resumes.
Later that night, after Milo and I had gotten back to his place and played a game, he and I went into our rooms for the night, and I stared at my phone. Ophelia’s text thread was pulled up. The little conversation we’d had was meaningless; arrangements for the party or getting together for lunch. Simple, to the point nothing special about them other than they were all from her.
My thumbs moved like lightning.
I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you. I think I know what it was, and it was uncalled for. I’d really like to get together with you soon, just to talk or plan the party. That’s it. Give me one last chance.
Hours passed. I lay awake in my temporary room. Holly’s toys were all packed away in boxes, and the glow of her fish tank gave me just enough light that it made my mind buzz. Hours passed with no answer from Ophelia.
Chapter Sixteen
-Ophelia-
Hell no.I thought for the eightieth time since reading Clay’s text a week ago.
Under no circumstances would I give him one more chance. I purposefully kept my distance, avoiding his name on my phone completely. The night at the Piano Bar had caused too many emotions, ones that I wasn’t ready to accept just yet. I had to force myself to shut those away, bemeagain. I immersed myself in work, getting Madeline’s dress ready for a fitting, helping Carter with Instagram, and designing more and more clothes for JoAnn. People would see what I would want them to see. I had done it once; I could do it again.
Remember,I told myself over and over again these past weeks,he proposed to you and left you the first chance he could. He’s. Not. Worth. It.
That’s right. No man was worth it.
So why, even though I was mad and hurt, did I still catch those small flutters whenever I thought about him? Which, I’ll admit was more than I liked.
I shook away the thoughts and focused on the ivory fabric in front of me. Madeline stood on the pedestal as I made a small detail to the dress per her request. I was concentrating, silent as I focused on the train, making it a little longer, adding more to the under layer to fill it out. I was in the zone—semi in the zone. Clay’s name would appear in the lace, and every time I reached for my pin cushion, I wished he were there holding it. I would scoff and then return to the dress, emotions not relevant.
“You doing okay down there?” Madeline asked, breaking the silence.
“Yup.” I popped theP.
“Doesn’t seem like it. In fact, you’ve been off for a while now. Wanna talk?”
“Nope.” I popped thePagain.
“Oh, ok.” Madeline moved slightly, bringing all the fabric with her.
“Maddy.” I wrapped my hand around her leg and pulled her back. “I need you here.”
“Oh, I’m here,” she mumbled. “I’m here for whatever you need. Designing wise, book recommendations. . . I have a lot of second chance romances that will make you swoon.”
“Madeline.”
“Milo and I would be ‘friends to lovers.’ On Instagram they always talk about these tropes and what you would be if you were a book trope. People on there think my love story is fake. They say it’s not true and that I made it all up,” she rambled.
Pausing to let Carter take a photo, I raised my eyes at her. “You’re comparing your love life to a book trope?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, why not?”
“And you’re friends to lovers?” I stood and walked in front of her, folding my arms over my chest. I saw Carter behind her taking a look at his camera before looking back up at me, clearly annoyed I stepped out of frame.
“And you would be second chance.”
“Madeline, life is not a book.”
She gave me a smirk. “It could be if you wanted it to be. I even had a small grand gesture with mine. Going to him, even though I was right in the middle of something. . .”
“My show,” I added.
