Page 87 of Set It Right
“Maybe. I’m not sure I’m really awake.”
“You can sleep a little while longer.” I continued stroking her hair, the silk sliding easily between my fingers. “I’m gonna need to get home so I can shower and get ready for work.”
She tossed her leg over mine. “Stay. You’re so comfy.”
I huffed a laugh. “I gave in last night. It’s not going to work this morning.”
“Pfft. You’re happy you stayed.”
I gave her shoulders a squeeze in response.
I couldn’t say I was happy.
Not really.
I’d screwed up…but there wasn’t a chance I wouldn’t do it again.
My granddad was in the kitchen when I got home, pouring coffee in matching mugs, no doubt on his way to give one to my grandmother.
He raised a silver eyebrow when I appeared. “Doesn’t look like you’re getting in from a jog.”
“No. That’s next.” I leaned against the counter beside him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I stayed the night with Zara.”
He hummed as he added a teaspoon of sugar to one of the mugs. “I had a feeling that’s where you were. The frown on your face made me doubt myself.”
Without thinking, I reached up to touch my mouth. I hadn’t realized I was frowning, but it made sense.
“I’m conflicted.” I shoved my hand through my hair, giving it a hard tug. “I know I’m setting myself up for getting my heart broken at the end of the summer, but in the same token, I’ve got my best friend back, so…”
“So you don’t want to stop what’s happening.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Why does it have to end in heartbreak?”
“She’s going to leave.”
“You’ll miss her, but that doesn’t equate to a broken heart. Seems maybe you need to have a conversation about where things’ll go when she’s back in Oregon.”
“Things will end.”
Chuffing, he shook his head. “You know, your grandmother and I got into our pickle by not having the conversations we should have.”
I almost laughed. His definition of a “pickle” was being divorced for a couple decades and at each other’s throats. Looking at them now, no one would have guessed they’d ever been apart.
“Your situation is pretty different from mine.”
He set the two mugs on a tray, folding two napkins alongside them. “In the details, sure. When it comes down to the brass tacks, it’s not so different. You and Zara have always loved one another—”
I nearly choked on my own spit. “What do you mean we’ve always loved each other? We were friends.”
He leveled me with a hard stare, the kind my dad liked to give. Guess he’d learned from the best.
“I’m not blind, Cormac. There’s always been something there. We all knew it. The only thing that surprised me was when you let life get in the way. Lucky for you, you got another chance before you got old and gray.” He turned his head, peering in thedirection of his and my grandmother’s bedroom. “Kills me to think how much time I wasted with Lily.”
“I don’t think you were the only culprit.”
He faced me again, a deep line between his brows. “When it comes down to it, it doesn’t matter a lick whose fault it was. If either one of us had opened our mouths and put in the work to figure out how we could solve the obstacles in front of us, we’d have had all those years together. Now we only have a handful left. I have to live with that loss for the rest of my life.”
I wanted to argue he had a whole hell of a lot more than a handful of years, but the fact was, my grandparents were in their eighties. One look at Zara and all she’d lost in such a short time, I knew how lucky I was to still have them.
And that wasn’t the point he was trying to make.
