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Where Happiness Begins (Evermore #3) 9. Chapter 9 21%
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9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I f there’s one thing that never fails to make me happy, it’s people getting what they deserve.

And I mean that in all senses of the term. Sure, I do enjoy when good, old karma hits bad people every now and then, but more than that, I love seeing hard-working, kind people find happiness and success, especially after a lifetime of trials, and no one deserves that more than my closest friends.

“I suck at this,” Lexie says, letting go of the bouquet of faux roses she was working on before dropping her head to the table, her short brown hair splayed around her.

“Stop it,” I say, perfecting my own. “You’re doing just fine.”

“Why didn’t I hire someone to do this again?”

“Because flowers are expensive,” I answer as I tie the white silk ribbon at the base of my bouquet. Not that they really needed to save on their wedding. Ever since Lexie won a bronze overall medal in gymnastics at the summer Olympics last year, job offers have been raining on her, and as much as she continues to live a modest life, she could definitely splurge. I turn to her with a grin. “ And because I convinced you that having a DIY wedding would be so much fun.”

“Right, that’s the actual reason. However , this is the least fun thing I’ve ever done.” She throws a plucked plastic petal my way, making me laugh. “You should’ve gotten Finn to do it with you instead.”

“Oh, please. As if I haven’t convinced Finn to do plenty of stuff for the wedding already.”

She perks up. “Really? Like what?”

“None of your business.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine then. If you won’t tell me, then at least distract me with something else.” Her flowers are completely forgotten now, and she’s looking at me with strange interest, her hands flat on the table.

“Feels like you have something in mind,” I say cautiously.

Lexie waggles her dark brows. “How’s it going with the husband?”

I hold my sigh in. While doing wedding prep with Lexie has been a good distraction from my own life, she’s brought me right back to one of the things I’d like to stop thinking about.

“It’s…fine,” I say, continuing to fluff the roses in the new bouquet I’ve started.

Lexie grabs the bouquet from my hands and throws it to the other end of the table.

“Hey!” I shout.

“They’re plastic. It’s fine.” She leans forward so I can’t escape her intimidating gaze. “Now tell me the truth.”

This time, I can’t hold off the long exhale. “It’s been kind of horrible. ”

Lexie’s body tenses. “What does that mean exactly?”

“No,” I say, “nothing, like, bad bad. Just…we don’t talk.”

“Okay…?”

“Like, at all.” I get up and walk to the pantry, then start pulling out ingredients by muscle memory. If Lexie won’t keep me distracted with wedding prep, then I’ll find a way to do it myself. I already cooked a white bean curry this morning for dinner, but I need more than that. “And it’s not like I don’t try. Every time he walks in, I try to make conversation, to get him to eat with me, to get to know him, but he always gives me one-word answers and then disappears downstairs.”

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Lexie says, still seated at the table. “That’s a problem because…?”

“Because I guess…” Her question runs around in my mind until finally, the real reason I’m disappointed about this dawns on me. “I guess I might have been looking for more out of this arrangement than I thought.”

“Oh, Lil,” Lexie says, watching me with a pity I don’t like. “Were you hoping that you two would, like, fall in love?”

I roll my eyes as I pour some flour into a mixing bowl, not measuring exact quantities but going with the feel of things. Life’s too short to follow a recipe perfectly. “Don’t be dumb. Of course I didn’t.” I bring the flour back to the pantry, then pause there. “But maybe I did hope we could form some sort of…friendship? Companionship?”

The truth is, I’ve been feeling so incredibly alone in this house. I do love it and all the memories it holds, but ever since I lost Dad, it feels like the ghost of him haunts all the empty corners. The more time passes, the more I notice everything I lost. In accepting Carter’s offer, I realize I’d thought this emptiness could lessen with someone else there to converse with, but the only thing it’s achieved is make me notice my loneliness even more. Obviously, I hadn’t told that to Finn or Lexie because they’d make it their mission to make me their third wheel in order for me to never be alone, but that’s the last thing I want. I love my friends, but they have their life, and I want them to keep it. I just wanted to have someone to keep me company too, even if it came in the form of someone who doesn’t talk much and who seems to be in a sour mood twenty-four seven.

“And did you tell him that?” Lexie asks.

I shake my head. “I hoped my attempts at talking to him every single day would be good enough.”

“He’s a guy,” Lexie says. “Obviously, that’s not enough. You need to be clearer.”

“So what do you suggest? That I go to him and ask him if he wants to be my friend like a second grader?”

Lexie shrugs. “Finn did that.”

Of course he did. That’s exactly the type of thing Finn would do—when he’s not acting like a neanderthal, that is.

“Not sure Carter would like that as much as you did,” I say, adding one too many chocolate chips in my cookie mix.

“I didn’t like it at first, but it grew on me,” Lexie says, smiling in a way that lets me believe she’s reminiscing on the way they met. “You’ve got nothing to lose. ”

“I guess.” Before I can add anything else, the front door opens and in comes Carter, an old backpack slung over his shoulder. He looks up quickly, and when he sees the two of us, his lips grimace in what I assume is a small smile before he escapes from our sight.

“Hey!” Lexie shouts, getting to her feet.

Carter steps back into view, looking even less comfortable now than he was three seconds ago.

“Wanted to introduce myself. I’m Lexie,” she says as she hands him her hand.

“The one who’s going to kick my ass?” Carter says, forcing a snicker to escape me. His eyes quickly flit to mine, and I’d swear I see a spark in the dark green.

“What?” Lex says.

“Ask Finn,” I tell her, and she doesn’t ask anything else after that, probably figuring out what went down a week ago.

“Well, I was actually about to be on my way to the gym,” Lexie says as she grabs her stuff, minus the fake flowers, which I’m sure she’s hoping I decide to throw away or forget about. “Talk soon?” Lexie tells me with her brows high, probably meaning this conversation isn’t over.

Since I know she’s not a fan of hugs, I keep my arms to myself and grin. “Sure. Next time we could work on the confetti?”

“Kill me now,” she says with a wink, then walks out the door, leaving Carter and me alone in the kitchen.

I clear my throat, pointing at the mess I made on the kitchen counter. “I made dinner and dessert’s almost ready, if you want some?” I hope my eyes don’t betray the pathetic level at which I want him to say yes, just this once.

Even if they do, it doesn’t stop him from saying, “I’m good, thanks.”

Everything deflates in me, just like it has every time I’ve offered him to spend time upstairs with me this past week. I should be getting used to it, but every time, it seems to sting more than the last, especially since there’s no kitchen downstairs, which means either he eats granola bars for dinner or he comes upstairs to cook while I’m asleep in order to make sure he won’t cross my path.

Am I that hard to stand?

“Okay,” I say. “Good night then.”

“Night,” he answers in a barely audible voice with a nod before disappearing into the basement, closing the door to the stairs behind him.

I return to my baking, finishing the batch of dough before I roll them into balls and spread them onto a pan. I try to keep my mind away from what just happened, but when I notice the balls of dough have been beaten down into flat discs, I realize I might be holding on to more frustration than I initially believed.

I start again, this time being careful not to hurt the innocent cookies. I hate being like this. Usually, I’m able to move on from the things that bother me, but it’s not like I can avoid someone I share a house—and now a job—with.

Lexie’s words come back to me. Maybe she does have a point and talking about it with him wouldn’t be a bad idea. If he’s simply clueless, we’ll never have the chance to figure this out .

I put the cookies into the oven, and once I’ve closed the door, my mind is made. I can’t complain about it if I don’t try to do something first.

I only give myself time for a small pep talk, and before I can rethink this, I open the basement door for the first time since Carter moved in and go downstairs.

“Hello?” I call out before going down the steps in case he needs to cover up. When no answer comes, I finish the trek down.

The first thing I notice about the basement is how bare it is. I don’t recognize anything that’s changed since I cleaned up here, save for a pair of jeans laid on the floor and a computer monitor standing on the coffee table. Other than that, it’s as if no one has stepped foot here since I did.

The second thing I notice is that it’s empty. The door to the bedroom is open, showing an unmade bed and still-closed curtains. My annoyingly curious side wins, and just as I take a step closer to peek in, the bathroom door opens and Carter catches me red-handed.

“Sorry,” I say, stepping back. “I called out, but you didn’t answer, so I came down.”

“Did you need something?” he asks in a bland tone, and I can’t tell whether it’s rude, bored, or simply neutral. I don’t know him enough to be able to tell, which is part of the problem, isn’t it?

“No. Well, yes.” I tuck some of the strands that slipped out of my long ponytail behind my ears. “I wanted to ask if you had a problem. With me, I mean. ”

The second the words are out, I realize what a mistake I made. This is embarrassing as it is, but under his intimidating stare, there’s no helping the deep flush that overtakes my face.

“Why would I have a problem with you?” he asks slowly.

“I don’t know? Which is why I’m asking?” I wish all my statements didn’t sound like questions. “You’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here, and if there’s a problem, I’d like to know it so I can solve it. This doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” is his simple answer.

“Yes, you are.” I try but failing not to laugh. He doesn’t seem to find it funny at all. “You’ve barely acknowledged me since moving in.” Surely it’s not all in my head. “Maybe it’s because of the weird way we met, and if it is, then I want to apologize and make it right. Start again.” I add a smile at that to show I genuinely want that, but of course he doesn’t return it.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he repeats, still standing in the bathroom doorframe and ignoring about half of the things I’ve just said.

“Fine,” I say. “You’re not avoiding me. But you are avoiding spending time with me, and I’d like to know why so we can move on, and, I don’t know…” Once again, I think back to Lexie’s advice, and at the cost of sounding like a total loser, I say, “Be friends, maybe?”

A long breath comes out of his lungs as he drags a hand through his hair. “Look, I have nothing against you, okay? But this is a business deal, not an actual relationship. We don’t need to pretend otherwise. ”

I take a long time to answer, mostly because I don’t even know where to start. Every time I open my mouth to say something, I stammer, confused between all the emotions I’m feeling. Shame. Anger. Hurt.

In the end, what I land on is, “I wasn’t trying to pretend anything, just wanted to be decent.” I can’t look him in the eye anymore, my heart thrumming in my chest. Nose prickling from my overflow of emotions, I say, “Don’t worry, though, your message has been heard, loud and clear.” Before I make an even bigger fool of myself, I turn around and go back upstairs.

The second I cross the threshold of the basement door, I force my mind to blank and forget about it all. I won’t allow myself any more time to be sad about this. About him . That man doesn’t deserve another single second.

I arrive back in the kitchen just in time to pull the cookies out of the oven, looking perfectly golden and crisp. And when I bite into one and then another, I focus on only tasting the chocolate and not the bitterness still residing in my throat.

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