He rolls his eyes like I’m overreacting, but I catch the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Connie is already parked out front when I step out into the chilly night air. She waves from behind the windshield, and I hurry toward her, my heels clacking against the sidewalk.
“Hey, girl!” she greets as I slide into the passenger seat and reach for my seatbelt. “I’m so glad we’re doing this.”
I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, me too.”
Connie talks nonstop as we head down the highway. Her friend Shawna has been sketching with charcoal for years, but tonight marks the completion of her most ambitious project yet—sketching her entire family. And, apparently, Connie. She hasn’t seen her portrait yet, and the unveiling is happening tonight.
Excitement practically radiates off her. I wish I could match it.
“You paint, right?” Connie suddenly remembers.
I hesitate. “I used to.”
I ordered some new supplies last week and need to pick them up from the local art store. But other than Corbin, no one knows I’m even considering painting again. It’s been two years. What if I’ve forgotten how?
“What did you paint?” she asks.
“Landscapes, mostly,” I say.
“You ever showcase your work?”
I shake my head as we take the off-ramp. “No, never.” Then, after a beat, I add, “With Tate and the coffee shop, I don’t have a ton of time to devote to it anymore.”
Connie side-eyes me. “You also have yourvery activedating life.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Actually… I think I’m taking a break from dating.”
“What?” She whips her head toward me so fast I worry for a second she might swerve. “You only went on, like, two dates. And both of them were with thesameguy.”
“I know.” I cringe.
“That barely even counts as dating!” she laughs.
I shift in my seat, gripping my hands together in my lap. “I just… I don’t know. I think I need to work on my relationship with myself before I get involved with anyone.”
Connie makes ahmmsound, like she doesn’t quite buy it.
And then, of course, there’s the elephant in the room.
My ex-husband.
Sometimes, it feels like he’s the only person I can truly be myself with. The only one who doesn’t push me to be someone I’m not. The only one who doesn’t ask for more than I’m ready to give.
We park along the street, and as we step out, my phone rings.
Panic grips my chest as I dig it out of my purse.
Tate. Something happened to Tate.
But when I see the name flashing across the screen, my stomach flips for an entirely different reason.
Corbin.
I release a breath and glance at Connie. “I’ll meet you inside?”
She nods without hesitation, already making her way toward the brightly lit white building.
