The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2)(51)
“How can he be in love with his wife one day, watch her die, and then fall in love again? I mean, I know in theory it happens, but I never thought I would be in this situation. How does someone ever really get over the death of their spouse?” I was asking the universe because I knew Shelby didn’t have the answer. Neither of us did. Devon probably didn’t either. Which was almost what made the whole thing so damn frustrating. I would never know, for sure, where I stood in comparison. Was he with me only because she was gone? If she were still alive, would they be together? And if so, what if we’d met then? Would he have left her for me? What if he and I were together first and then he met her? There were so many unanswerable questions, so many variables that I would absolutely never get a firm consensus on because Olivia had died. I let out a hard breath, then shook my head. “Man, I am such a bitch.”
“You’re not. This is a hard situation and you’re just being honest. That’s what best friends are for. You get to say all the wrong things to me so you don’t say them to Devon and screw everything up. You don’t want to screw everything up, do you?” Her question was serious and I knew she wanted an honest answer.
“No, I don’t want to screw everything up. But I also don’t want to be emotionally torn to shreds in a few weeks when he realizes he’s still in love with his wife. Ex-wife. Dead wife. Shit.” I pulled my knees up to my chest, placing my coffee cup on the table.
“Listen, from everything I’ve ever heard about Devon, and from the few times I spent any significant time with him, I can tell you I think he’s a really decent guy. Like, a really good guy, Grace. And I don’t think he’s going to break your heart. I do think it’s really important that you talk to him about this. Only he can tell you exactly what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling.”
My mind drifts back to our conversation the night before on his couch and I shut my eyes, groaning. I didn’t really want to have that conversation again, but I knew she was right. I had to tell him why I was pulling away. If I didn’t, eventually I would pull right out of his grasp and he’d have no option but to let me go.
“Don’t sabotage a good thing because your ex-husband did a number on you. Don’t let Jeff and that Jessica bitch have that much power over you.”
I had to laugh at Shelby’s obligatory best-friend-mistress-hating skills.
“You’re right. I know you’re right. But….”
“What? Spit it out.”
“What if I say all this to him and he thinks I’m a terrible person. I feel like a terrible person.”
“Grace, Devon loves you. He probably realizes there’s something wrong and is waiting for you to be comfortable enough to tell him what it is. Put the man out of his misery. The sooner you tell him what’s bothering you, the sooner he can make you feel better with his penis.”
“Shelby!” I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped me, and eventually there were tears streaming down my face. “You’re the only person in the world who could say something like that to me and make me laugh. Those words from anyone else would just be wrong.”
“Hey, it’s my job to make you laugh. It’s also my job to tell you when you’re being dumb. You’re not being dumb yet, but if you don’t tell him about all this, you’ll be on your way there.”
“I know.”
“When do you see him next?”
“I’m supposed to go over there after my shift tonight.”
“I expect a full report tomorrow. And not just a report about the conversation, although that’s important. I put in my best friend time today, doled out my best advice, and I require compensation in the form of sexy details.”
“Sexy details? What kind of details are you looking for?”
“General girl talk. Length. Girth. Stamina.”
“I’m not talking to you about his girth.” I couldn’t even say the word without blushing.
“Fine. Be that way.”
I sighed, then smiled.
“Thanks for being an awesome friend, Shel.”
“Takes one to know one,” she said, winking, making me smile even wider.
Work was uneventful, but for the first time all summer I found myself irritated with the bar scene. The tips were good and it helped bridge the gap between the end of one school year and the beginning of another, but there were only so many ways you could tell drunken twentysomethings that you weren’t interested in going home with them. Also, the guys who ordered drinks with sexual titles always seemed to think that if you heard them say those words, you would magically fall into bed with them. If I never heard another man order a Sex on the Beach or a Buttery Nipple, it would be too soon.
Halfway through my shift, the bar was packed. The music was loud and the people were rude, and even though it was no different than any other night, it all just rubbed me the wrong way. Next summer I needed to consider finding something different.
A loud crash at the front door caught my attention and I turned to see what was happening, but all I saw was Randy wrestling someone out the door. I shook my head. Randy didn’t have to throw someone out every night, but it happened more often than I’d imagined it would. A woman at the end of my bar caught my attention when she waved at me, signaling she wanted to order a drink. I wiped the bar on my way down to her, and then got back to work.