Page 77 of Made Better Together

The official trigger happens when Grace comes into my office at 5:30 and asks, “Can you talk to Eden about…” It’s like I black out what she’s really asking about.

Instead, I take it as a sign.

I’m going to talk to Eden.

I’m in my car fifteen minutes later, headed to Tolliver. Even the rush hour traffic doesn’t curtail the consuming need to stop this fucking date.

Except.

Except.

“I’m not going to dinner with Jake. I turned him down.”

There was never a fucking date. She turned him down.

Holy fuck. When she tells me that, standing in this sterile dorm lobby, looking so cute in her beat-up shorts and thin US Soccer tee, time slows.

She turned him down.

There’s no date.

I can stop panicking.

Except that isn’t the only thing I want to do. With her standing in front of me, alternating between confused and dazed expressions, I realize I’m done fighting the inevitable…

Now I’ve got Eden in my passenger seat, and my heart rate is regulating.

“Where are we going?” Her voice is steadier than in the hallway.

“There’s that park near the Tolliver fields. Does that work?”

“Sure, nobody is there at night.”

Perfect. It’s only three minutes away, and I won’t have to stew in my thoughts much longer. “Tough about the draw earlier.”

“Oh, yeah.” She twists her head to me. “You checked the score?”

I nod. Her eyes widen briefly, and then she looks at her lap, tugging on her ring.

Maybe that’s from nerves—no surprise if so. I’m nervous, but I’m done pulling away from what feels right.

Once we’re parked a short bit later, she unbuckles her seat belt. “Do you want to talk in here or out there?”

“Let’s stay in the car. Just so we can speak freely.”

She shoots me a look. “That’ll be a welcome change.” Her voice has a vulnerability underneath the obvious irritation.

“What do you m—” Then my mind catches up to what she means. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been…off.”

“You’ve been hard to predict. At least since the Hot Beans meeting. I never know if I’m getting swoony, yearning Connor with the deep longing in his voice, or ice-cold businessman Connor who’s….” She puts her hands over her face. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said all that.”

I reach over and gently bring her left hand down. “No, it’s okay. You’re right. I…haven’t handled things well. I’ve been conflicted. Constantly conflicted.”

“And now?” She drops the right hand. “How do you feel now?”

“I’m…I feel clarity.”

She gives me a second to expand, before prompting me. “Clarity about…”