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Somehow, she managed to smile back.
And yeah, it wasn’t real yet. But it would be. She’d make sure of that. She’d gotten over heartbreak before, even though it had never felt physically painful like this.
Surely she could do it again.
“I think I’m going to head home,” she murmured to Presley, pushing her half-eaten plate of pancakes away.
He shot her a concerned look. “You okay? Is your head hurting?”
She touched the bandage. She’d forgotten it was even there. “I’m just tired.” That was the truth. She hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep this week. “Thank you for letting me watch Delilah make her debut. You must be proud of her.”
He nodded, his gaze landing on his daughter. “I am.”
“And Marianne would be too.”
Presley swallowed. “Yeah. She would.”
Squeezing her cousin’s shoulder, she stood and flicked some bills on the table. Enough to cover five meals rather than just her one, but she knew how these things went. There was no way Presley should have to fork out for their family’s enormous appetite.
She didn’t go over to say goodbye to her mom, mostly because she wasn’t ready for the inquisition. She’d send her a text once she was home. Instead, she smiled at her family and friends as she wove her way through the tables and finally made it out of the door.
Her head was still too full from her conversation with Michael to really look at where she was going. And she walked straight into her dad, who gave a little oof.
“Hey sweetheart. Can we talk?”
She lifted a brow. She hadn’t seen him since last week’s epic clusterfuck. He’d sent messages and tried to call, but she hadn’t been ready. Not when he was as much to blame for this as Michael.
Well, almost.
“I was just heading home,” she told him.
“Did it get to be a bit much in there?” he asked, nodding at the diner.
“Something like that.”
His face softened. And she tried to harden her heart because she really was angry with him. But it wouldn’t listen.
“Grace, I’m so sorry that I hurt you. Those things I said, the way I reacted.” He grimaced, gritting his teeth together. “It was so, so wrong of me.”
“Yes, it was.” Her voice was thin. “You hurt me,” she told him.
This time, there was pain in his eyes. “I know. And I hate myself for it. I wish I’d walked away and taken a breath. But the red mist descended, and I acted like a fool.”
“You treated me like a kid. I’m a grown woman, I deserve to be treated like that.”
He blew out a long breath. “I know. I’m a damn idiot for interfering where I’m not wanted.” He caught her eye. “I know you love him.”
“Loved,” she corrected. “We aren’t together anymore.”
His mouth twitched. “Yeah, and I also know you can’t turn love on and off like a faucet. You love too hard for that.”
Yes, she did. Loved so hard it hurt. “I’m still turning, but it’ll go off eventually.”
“Maybe it won’t,” he said. “Maybe he’s the one. I know I’d never stop loving your mom even if she walked away for years.”
Yeah, and that’s what she was afraid of. That this time she wouldn’t get over it. “That’s not exactly a comforting thought.”
He reached out, his hand hanging in the air while he waited for her reaction. And she knew he was asking a silent question.
