Page 112 of The Grump Next Door

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I don’t know what to say to that. The truth of it sits heavy in my chest.

“I believe in that,” she continues, staring at the dark fireplace. “I believe in fighting for that, even if it doesn’t always last in the end.”

“That’s…” I search for words.

“Naïve?” There’s a challenge in her voice.

“I was going to say brave.” The admission costs me something.

She looks at me, surprised, her lips parted.

“Believing in something you know might hurt you—that’s brave. Or stupid. Maybe both.” I hold her gaze.

“Speaking from experience?” Her voice is soft, careful.

I think about Emily. About believing in forever until it wasn’t. About closing myself off so nothing could hurt like that ever again. About the six years that weren’t enough.

“Maybe.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance, softer now. Muffin twitches but doesn’t wake.

“We should sleep,” Poppy says, but neither of us moves. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Right.”

But neither of us moves. The space between us feels charged, electric.

“Dean?”

“Mm?”

“This is complicated.”

“Everything with you is complicated.” But I’m almost smiling.

She almost smiles back. “Is that bad?”

“I’m starting to think complicated might be worth it.”

“Yeah?” Hope flickers across her face.

“Ask me in thirty-six hours.”

“What happens in thirty-six hours?” She’s watching me carefully now.

You leave. And I either let you go or do something stupid.

“The wedding’s over,” I say instead, the coward’s answer.

“Right. The wedding.” Something dims in her expression.

Silence settles. Comfortable this time. The storm’s passing. Muffin snores softly.

“Stay,” I say, the word coming out rough. “Tonight. Here. The guest house is cold and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I wasn’t expecting that.

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