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“Is it okay if I get going?” Joey asks, turning from Carlton back to me. “You’re good?”
“I’m good.” I smile at her broadly. Not too fakely. “Chase is about to close up anyway. I always walk home with him.”
For some reason, that seems to surprise her. Her eyes widen and shoot over to where Chase is wiping down the cappuccino maker behind the counter. “Oh. Got it.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. Just I understand.” She leans forward and says in a stage whisper, “You should ask him again if he wants to go. I bet he’d take the days off work if you tell him it’s important to you.”
I flush for no good reason. Something about the significance in her tone. “I don’t want to guilt him.”
“No guilt. Carlton and I are going skiing for the weekend, but I’ll see you next week.”
“See you. Have fun.” I wave when she turns back for another goodbye, and then I smile and wave at Carlton through the glass. He’s been standing on the sidewalk, waiting for her.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I slump back in my chair, my smile fading.
I put up my laptop when Chase comes over with his spray and cleaning rag so he can wipe my table.
He slants me a quick look before he starts to work. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just tired.”
“I bet.”
My brows pull together.
He adds, “All that faking has got to be exhausting.”
“I’m not faking!” When he just lifts his eyebrows, I go on in a resigned tone. “I’m really not. I’m trying. Trying to feel better. There’s a difference.”
He appears to think about that as he finishes cleaning my table. I push my chair back because he’s very close. “Yeah,” he says at last. “I get that.”
His brief, casual affirmation makes me feel better. I wait for Chase to put up his cleaning stuff and flip the sign on the front door to closed before we walk out.
He doesn’t say much as we make our way through the quiet downtown streets. I appreciate the reprieve from acting like I don’t feel really sad.
That’s one good thing about Chase. He doesn’t always insist on filling every moment with conversation. He’s totally fine with us walking in silence.
When we reach the residential corner where we normally turn toward my house, Chase says, “Oh, I almost forgot. Grandma made Christmas cookies, and she has yours packed up and ready. She wants to give them to you herself, so is it all right if we stop by my place first?”
“Of course.” It’s only a few blocks out of my way, and I wouldn’t mind even if it was longer. Chase’s grandmother has always been one of my favorite people.
We fall into silence again as we walk down a pleasant, tree-lined sidewalk.
“It’s okay to be upset about it,” Chase says. Quietly and with no prelude or warning.
My head jerks up in his direction. “I’m not that upset.”
“Aren’t you? I sense a lot of wordless angst coming off you.”
I sigh. “It’s not that bad. I mean, sure, I’m upset. We were dating for eight months. It’s the longest I’ve ever had a boyfriend. I had a lot invested in the relationship.”
He’s looking forward. Not at me. “He wasn’t worth what you invested in him.”
My first instinct is defensive, as it often is with Chase’s dry commentary. But I bite back the impulse to lash out because I know he’s trying to help, and I also know it will accomplish nothing. Anytime I get mad at Chase, he simply stares at me like he doesn’t understand what’s happening.
It’s impossible to argue with someone who will never argue back.
