Love Her - Andrea Johnston Page 0,80

to the side. “Yeah, I think it does.”

Jameson squeezes my shoulder and turns on his heel, leaving me alone in the hallway. Feeling lighter than I did this morning, I walk out to my car. Pulling my keys from my purse, my phone begins to ring.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Where are you?” Her voice is frantic which has me pausing in fear. The kids. My dad.

“Just leaving the hospital. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you over the phone. I don’t want you angry while you’re driving.”

My pulse slows when she says the word “angry.” This isn’t because someone is injured. It’s because I may be angry. Which must mean she saw the news.

“I saw the news, Mom. I’m fine. Well, not fine. Confused is more like it. I’m sure there’s about to be a shit storm of things to deal with because of Michael. Please don’t let the kids see anything. I’ll be home soon and once I can figure out what is happening, I’ll talk to them.”

“Okay, honey. Drive safe.”

Ending the call, I look down at the screen. My contact list isn’t long, and I tend to speak to the same three people. When my eyes land on Connor’s name, I fight the urge to tap “call.” I lied to my mom. I’m not fine. I’m freaking out.

So much has happened today, and my head is spinning. I know his voice would calm me. He would assure me everything will be fine. He’d stand beside me and help me figure everything out. Before. All of that would have happened before. Before he misunderstood what Ashton and I were talking about. Even with the misunderstanding, he wrote me off so easily. He didn’t fight for us. He didn’t let me explain. He ghosted me. Cut me out of his life.

Still, I can’t help myself and open our text conversation.

Me: Thank you for helping Jacob tonight.

I don’t expect a response and move to toss the phone in my purse when it chimes.

Connor: You’re welcome.

It isn’t a declaration of love but it’s something.

Chapter 31

Connor

As I walk aimlessly from store to store down Main Street, I consciously avoid The Closet. The fact that I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect gift for over two hours and find myself empty-handed leads me to believe what I need is in that particular shop.

The scene of the crime. While no actual blood was shed there, the shambles of my relationship with Lis have left a mark and I can only imagine there is evidence of that on the sidewalk. Standing in front of the flower shop, I contemplate just picking up something here and being done with it.

Pulling open the door, I wait for a young kid to exit. Holding a single rose, he looks nervous and happy. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s headed to see a girl. Probably to ask her to be his girlfriend or maybe be his date for prom. Stepping inside, I’m instantly hit with the aroma of fresh flowers.

“Good afternoon. How may I help you?” a woman asks from behind a large arrangement.

“Can I help you with that?” I offer, gripping the sides of the glass vase.

“Oh thank you. I may have gotten a little overzealous.”

Taking the vase from her hands, I’m caught off guard by the heaviness. How was such a petite person holding this?

“Where to?”

Smiling, she points to a table in the middle of the room. I inhale the sweet smell and file away the idea to send flowers to my mom. It’ll be a pleasant surprise for her and hopefully will make up for sporadic video chats the last few weeks. Something I know she is less than thrilled about.

“Thank you. Now, what can I help you with?”

“I wanted to get something for a friend. She received an award for—”

“Are you talking about Dakota? I just love that girl. She’s so sweet.”

I can’t disagree with her but chuckle internally that a woman who isn’t much older than I am is referring to Dakota as a girl. Her smile is wide and it’s next to impossible not to return it.

“Yes. Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, the arrangements we put together for the party feature lilies and—”

“She already has flowers?”

Her smile falls a little and she nods her head. Well, hell. Tossing my head back, I release a long breath. “I guess more flowers wouldn’t be the best gift.”

“I say you can never have too many flowers, but she did order quite a bit. Her poor