Page 93 of When Forever Falls Apart

Elliot runs his fingers through his hair, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “Jesus Christ, Madelina. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this?”

I press my lips together, attempting to ignore the nagging voice inside of me. “You know what? Never mind.”

As I gather my things, Elliot suddenly grabs my wrist, urgency prickling in his touch. His expression softens, but there’s no hiding his intense stare, the kind people get when they know they’re lying by omission.

“Hey, I still want you,” he murmurs, a noticeable shift from his heightened tone moments ago. “I just have something I need to do.”

I nod, and the tension between us blurs as he presses a goodbye kiss to my lips.

I don’t go home. I wander instead, letting the streets soak up my frustration until I somehow end up in front of The Book Basket. One look at my watch and I realize I’ve only got ten minutes before they shut. I enter to find Mrs. Winthrop lifting her head, her usual judgmental stare drilling into me.

“Oh, Madelina, it’s you again.”

“Yep, just me.” I force a smile, hoping to cure my pitiful mood with something fresh and shiny. “Any new books arrived?”

“I assume you mean in romance,” Mrs. Winthrop drags the words out in a condescending tone.

A sudden wave of annoyance rushes over me. “Forgive my bluntness, but if you despise romance so much, why do you bother owning a bookstore?” I challenge, feeling the heat of my conviction surge. “Did you know romance isthe highest-selling genre globally? Ignoring it seems like a poor business choice.”

Mrs. Winthrop’s eyes narrow, her voice sharp as a whip. “I beg your pardon? This ismystore. I will sell what I want. The only reason that trash graces my back wall is because my daughter insisted.”

Stunned by her audacity, I stammer, “Romance books aren’t trash. Maybe if you accepted that, you’d have more customers.” With a sharp pivot, I storm out with my head held high, slamming the door behind me as the chime sounds in the chaos. My anger surges through me like a wildfire caught in a gust of wind.

I have no time for narrow-minded people like Mrs. Winthrop. The more we learn to embrace the things we love and the things others love, the sooner we can all live in unity.

Never should weyucksomeone else’syum.

Back in my apartment, I hastily dial Eva’s number, hoping she answers so I can rant about Mrs. Winthrop.

“Hey!” Eva answers brightly, a far cry from the woman who was miserable a few weeks ago when she thought her life was over because she was expecting a baby. “Guess what?”

“You’re pregnant with twins?” I quip.

“Stop that insanity right now. I’d be a wreck if I were pregnant with twins,” she retorts. “Aston and I are heading to Cinnamon Springs tomorrow. I’m eager to attend the country fair. Over the last few days, I’ve been craving deep-fried food like crazy. I read online that a food truck will have a deep-fried grilled cheese sandwich. My God, I’m drooling just thinking about it.”

“Oh, right. They were setting up today,” I respond, my mood noticeably dim.

“What’s wrong? Did Aunt Flow knock on your door? We can’t even be period sisters anymore. Probably the only good thing about being pregnant,” she admits.

“I had a confrontation with Mrs. Winthrop,” I admit, frustration seeping into my tone. “And, you know, I try my best to respect elders, but she got on my last nerve.”

“The bookstore owner?” Eva asks.

“Yes! She got all high and mighty about romance. I snapped—told her she was a fool for being all judgmental.”

“Oh, Maddy, that’s like cutting off your drug dealer,” Eva reminds me in a soft tone.

I shuffle my feet, the weight of my thoughts anchoring me. “But what if that awful woman isn’t my only option? What if there was a store dedicated to romance books?”

“Sure, hypothetically. But has anyone done that?”

“I don’t know, but why can’t I?” I question with a newfound energy. “It has to start somewhere, right?”

“Nothing is stopping you,” Eva says encouragingly. “People thought I was crazy for opening a donut shop, remember? They worried it would only attract kids. Look at it now—half of those haters are regulars.”

I recall Eva’s struggle to open her store. It wasn’t easy, especially with the opinionated townsfolk. Nevertheless, she powered through and didn’t let anyone hold her back. Eva is strong that way, and I’ve always admired her ability to follow her dreams with intent and well-thought-out plans.

With a heavy sigh, I murmur, “But where would I even begin?”