Page 71 of Room for Us
“Forcing you to be friends with me?” she quips.
I laugh. “Yeah, that.”
“Well, not that you’ve asked my opinion or anything, but I’m going to give it to you.”
“I’m flabbergasted.”
“Shut up. Where was I? Oh yes. I think you should tell Ethan how you feel.”
“No way.”
“Yes way. And I’m not saying this because of the potential for advanced copies of his books.”
“Sure,” I deadpan.
“Okay, maybe a little. But listen. I’m about to drop some serious wisdom. Are you listening?”
“No.” She punches my shoulder. “Fine, fine.”
“Love doesn’t care about timing or whether we’re ready for it. It shows up when it wants, where it wants, and asks only one thing of us—to be brave. And if you’re brave, no matter what happens, you’ll know that you chose love, and you won’t have regrets.”
I stare at her. “You sound like Aunt B without the cussing.”
She laughs. “I take that as a compliment. Just think about it, okay? What do you have to lose?” She grabs one of my hands, lowering her voice, “Take it from me, a broken heart can’t kill you.”
Even though I already know the answer, I ask, “You don’t regret it?”
She smiles softly. “Not for one second. Even if I didn’t have Damien, I still wouldn’t regret being with Jeremy. He was the love of my life.”
I swallow hard, my heart hurting for her, for what she had and what was taken away.
“Tell him,” she urges.
I sigh. “What’s the point? Even if he feels the same way, he’s not going to stay in Idaho. His whole life is in New York. And there’s no way in hell I’m moving back there. Besides, I have the inn to think about. I just got it up and running. It would never work.”
“Blah, fear, blah, fear, blah. That’s all I heard.”
“I hate you.”
She grins. “You love me. Now go wash your face and get out of my apartment. You have a famous, super-hot writer to spill your guts to.”
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Celeste cackles and claps her hands. “This is stupendous! Momentous! A veritable smorgasbord of romantic inspiration. Hey, maybe I should write a book.”
“You probably shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Now go.”
39
Halfway home, reality sinks back in. There’s no way I can tell Ethan this weekend. Not while his daughter is here, and definitely not with the ex-girlfriend mess happening.
In fact, the more I think about it, the closer I come to the conclusion that not only would telling him how I feel be the worst possible course of action, but that I’d essentially be asking him to choose me over his daughter. To uproot his life for a two-week fling.
My hands clench on the wheel as the truth settles heavily in my stomach. There’s no way I can do that. No‘effing way. My heart doesn’t matter, not when set against the potential of separating a father from his child.
I can’t ask him to stay, and I can’t go. So I’m keeping my feelings to myself.
