Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

37. Penny

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

penny

“Are you going to talk to him at all? ”

I glance at Avery, who is rummaging too intently through the new bronzers to be shopping for her secret Santa gift for Declan.

I pull a gloss that I heard Tiffany mention a few weeks ago from the shelf.

“No, probably not.”

Avery dips her chin, but she shoots me a look that tells me how she really feels. She wanted a different answer. In a perfect world, Declan and I would have a conversation that ends in apologies and maybe even a hug, and the tension would evaporate as if it had never been there at all.

Magically, spending time in the same place would become more comfortable for the both of us, and for Avery.

For everyone, really.

In a perfect world, things are much easier.

We had one moment the other night. I was coming downstairs, and he was rounding the corner to use the washroom. We both froze, alone for the first time in a long time, and he took a step toward me like he was going to say something.

I panicked, not sure what he was going to say or do. So, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. I thanked him for the coffee.

He stared at me, our eyes burning into each other. So many unsaid things hung between us, but after a long moment where he said nothing more, I realized that maybe there just isn’t anything left for him to say, and I left him in that hallway alone.

That’s been the extent of our contact and I don’t really know how to feel about it.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I warn, dropping the gloss in my basket.

Avery flitters down the aisle, picking up a bottle of bronzing body oil. She peers over her shoulder at me, blinking innocently.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yet I heard it, crystal clear,” I sigh, sliding past her to grab the last thing I need for Tiffany. I’m going slightly over budget, but I know she’ll like it, so it’s not a waste.

I pick the purple-toned highlighter out of a row of colours. I drop it into my basket and feel a small sense of accomplishment. I was efficient today. I knew what I wanted to get done, and I did it. No sitting in bed for hours, overthinking every little decision I’ve made over the last ten years. No tears. It was just a normal day.

Now that the gift shopping is done, it’s one less thing that I have to worry about. Any bit of weight off my shoulders is a relief.

I love Christmas, I do, but with the back and forth between lawyers and dealing with Gavin, not to mention all the discomfort between Declan and I, I would prefer to skip past the season this year.

“I just think you’d both feel a lot better,” Avery says, shrugging a shoulder.

“Or a lot worse,” I say, browsing the array of makeup for myself now. “A lot worse, and who would that help then?”

“It just makes me sad,” Avery says with a long sigh. She turns to face me fully, those big brown eyes all round and earnest. “I see how it’s hurting you both. I wish I could fix it for you.”

“I know,” I say quietly, slowly making my way toward the register. “But you can’t. We’re adults, Ave. Him and I will deal with it the way we have to.”

“It’s just weird,” she offers, trailing behind me. “He always made you laugh like nobody else in the world. I know you guys picked on each other, but it was out of love. I miss watching the two of you. It’s like something is missing.”

I swallow, my heart clenching in my chest. Okay, ouch. I don’t need to hear that. I really don’t want to hear that. The amount of time I spent yearning for the moments where I used to laugh with Gavin, had Declan been filling in those gaps all that time?

Had I never even noticed?

No. I can’t do this now. I can’t go there.

Eyes on the prize, Sweeten. This is not something to deal with over the holidays, surrounded by your friends and family. If it explodes, they’ll all get hurt in the crossfire. Let’s just avoid the explosives all together. Just a bit longer. Just a few more days.

“It’s complicated.”

“I know,” she says, sliding into the line beside me. “I just feel like you’re leaving something out. You guys have never gone this long after a fight.”

Alarm bells ring in my head.

Do not look her in the eye. She’s testing me. She’s looking for something in my face that’ll convey the truth to her. She’s the only human on earth that can read me like a book, even when I’m wearing my strongest and most stoic mask.

“It was just the last straw,” I say, turning to look at all the miniature products covering the check-out line.

Casual. That was a good answer. This is still about the fight at The Swan Dive , ages ago.

“Then what about the night of my engagement?” she asks carefully.

I go still with my hands around a tinted moisturizer. “What about it?”

“Why’d you spend all night with him if you were that angry with him?”

Tough question. Even tougher answer.

I whirl around before I can think. She must see the warning on my face because she takes a step back.

“That would have never happened the way it did if I had been invited to your engagement,” I remind her. There’s more bite in my tone than I’d like, but I can’t talk about this anymore. I don’t want to talk to Declan. I don’t want to talk about Declan. That’s all there is to it. Nothing she says will change my mind.

Her eyes flicker to the ground. “I just thought you two might have discussed it.”

“We had other things to talk about,” I grumble, storming toward the cashier.

I drop my products on the counter, grateful for some space between us. Even if it’s just for a few seconds. I don’t want to take my anger out on her, but I don’t want to tell her the truth either. For once, I want something to just stay my own business. I need her to drop it, like Seth did after Pittsburgh.

She follows, though at a slower pace. After I pay and we head out of the store together, she nudges me with her elbow. Once, twice, three times.

My heart softens a bit.

I glance at her.

“I’m not trying to pry,” she says, smiling apologetically. “I just don’t like when you’re upset. You’ve had a rough year. I want you to enjoy the last little bit of it.”

In her mind, Declan and I fought about Gavin. Gavin is now gone. Declan took care of me in the aftermath of him leaving. I’m healing from one thing, albeit slowly, but I’m not healing from both. That bridge that Dec and I burnt should be in the process of being rebuilt by now, not left in whatever state this is.

She can’t understand because she doesn’t have the full picture and that’s not her fault.

“I will enjoy it. I have you.”

“You have all of us,” she reminds me, eyeing me carefully. I can feel her gaze on my face as we walk toward the specialty shop that I told her about. “Even him, I think, if you needed him. Just don’t go around thinking you lost him, P. If that’s what’s stopping you.”

I swallow, smiling at the clerk as he greets us. Thankfully, he asks what we’re here for and I launch into the explanation to see if it’s possible. I’m helping Avery make Declan hockey tape with his number printed into the material. He might not be able to use it for his professional games, but he can when he plays for fun. Or he can give it out to the kids he helps in the youth hockey camps, which is the likelier option.

When the boys used to play on the lake in college, he always wrote his number on bright yellow tape, so nobody messed with his stick. He’s been doing it since he was a kid. There are many pictures of little Declan with his homemade tape.

It’s nostalgic. It’ll mean something to him.

I don’t know how I would have responded to the last comment that Avery made, the one about him being there if I needed him, and frankly, I don’t want to think about it.

Because, yeah. That’s kind of what’s stopping me.