Page 72 of Hope After Loss


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“What do you think?” Anna asks, worry evident in her voice.

“It’s not that bad. I’ll put a couple of butterfly stitches on it, and it should be good,” Mom says.

“Are you sure?”

Mom looks over at her and smiles. “Trust me. I’ve raised six boys. This is nothing.”

“Nothing? I might have a concussion,” I whine and stick out my bottom lip.

“Are you dizzy?” Anna asks.

Mom swats at me. “Weston, stop teasing her.”

Anna narrows her eyes at me, and I shrug.

“Can’t blame a man for trying to milk it,” I say.

She groans, and I can see the relief wash over her.

Mom places the tiny strips of bandage over the cut above my eye and stands. “That should do it.”

She kisses my forehead and walks back out to the party.

Anna sits down on the couch beside me. “I’m so sorry,” she says for the hundredth time.

“Clocking me was a creative way to break the tension between us,” I muse.

She smiles. “You think so?”

“Genius really,” I say.

“About last night …” she begins, and I interrupt her.

“That was on me. I don’t know what I was thinking. That’s not true. I was thinking that you’re beautiful and I should kiss you good night. I just misread the situation.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” she asks.

I slide my eyes to the side and look at her. “Of course I do. I’m not blind. Yet,” I say as I lift the bag back to my swollen eye.

“You didn’t misread it. I think I wanted you to kiss me. I just panicked, I guess. I don’t know,” she whispers as she closes her eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” I demand.

She opens her eyes and brings them to mine.

“It was a nice moment. One we can laugh about someday. No need to hide from me.”

“No hard feelings?” she asks.

“Not a one.”

She smiles, and I know that we’re going to be okay.

“Now that that’s settled, are you ready for our date?” I ask.

“What date?”

“The one to see the waterfall.”

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