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But the worst part…the absolute fucking worst part is not having Harry in my life. Going to sleep without his arms around me. Waking up without his body tangled with mine. Missing his jokes and his kisses and the way he called me his dream girl. Knowing that he’s hurting and yet again, I’m the cause. Did I ever deserve that beautiful man?
I guess I was always too jaded. He came into this relationship with a clean slate and an open heart. And I just had…baggage. Too many scars from being rejected too many times. Too much experience being the scorned woman. Too much mileage on my untrusting heart.
I should have never dragged him into this. I always knew that he would get hurt.
Eventually, the French instructor shows up and everyone gets settled in for class.
Granny watches me with concern in her eyes as I pack up my purse to leave. “Are you going home now, darling? Is that woman you told me about still coming to meet with you at your house?” she asks me, sounding more than a little concerned.
I nod, chewing on the inside of my lip as I button up the front of my jacket.
She squeezes my hand. “Are you sure about this? It’s a big decision and you’ve made it so quickly.”
I almost laugh out loud. “I’m not sure about anything these days,” I mutter.
Harry asked me for time to think. After everything, that was more than fair. But I can’t just sit around, waiting. I have to do something. I have to make my next move.
“Oh, darling.” My grandmother stares at me, so heartbroken. I can’t stand to see her cry.
“I don’t want to be late. I’ll call you tonight to let you know how it goes,” I promise her.
“Yes, call me later.” Her head bobs slowly. “Good luck, Nadi.”
“Thanks, Granny.” I kiss her cheek and head out, praying for the strength to go through with my plans for today.
50
HARRY
I’ve been sitting here in the hallway of the community center for half an hour now. I’m hoping that Nadia might show up.
I tried her phone and all my calls went to voicemail. When I drove to her house, her car wasn’t in the driveway. Icouldgo to her office but that would be my absolute last resort because I’ve already caused enough drama with her work. Showing my face there would probably only make things worse for her.
Through the doorway, I see the usual group of seniors whispering in their French class and enjoying each other’s companionship. Delores ambles out of the room where today’s French lesson is taking place. She startles when she sees me sitting on the bench by the door.
“Oh, hello, Harry.” Her smile is far less bright and friendly than it usually is. But that’s to be expected with everything that’s going on.
“Hi D. How are you doing today?” I ask her, forcing myself to sound pleasant.
She adjusts her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Same old aches and pains.” She slows to a stop in front of my bench. “So where’s your grandmother today?”
I flinch at the mention of Grammy. “She didn’t want to come. She isn’t too happy with me right now,” I say dryly. “Honestly, I don’t think she wants to be seen in public with me.”
“I don’t blame her,” Delores mumbles, side-eying me.
Through the open door, Nadia’s grandmother sends me a long glare before turning her attention back to the instructor.
Well, that feels kind of shitty.
Delores stares pointedly at me. “So…are you going to give me the juicy details of what happened with you and Nadia?”
“How much do you know about that?” I ask, cringing again. “What have you heard?”
For once, Delores seems to be holding back. “I don’t know how much I’m allowed to say.”
“What does that mean?” I question.
The old lady doesn’t answer. She only pats me sympathetically on the cheek and ambles off toward the bathroom.
