The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(65)

Rose wiped a tear from her face, and Rory’s emotions shined in her eyes too.

My grandparents held an even mix of shock and embarrassment in their expressions.

I stood, tossing my napkin onto the table. “I’m going to take a few minutes to myself. Call me when pie is served.”

Nobody said a word. And I was grateful. I didn’t want apologies or awkward attempts to explain away the previous conversation where I was labeled a slut. Had I not been the slut, it could have been somebody else’s daughter or granddaughter.

Everyone means the world to someone. Or at least they should.

When I collapsed onto my bed, I called Fisher. After multiple rings, it went to voicemail. So I called again … and again.

On the fourth call, he answered. “Hi,” he said in a neutral tone. “I’m eating dinner. What’s up?” He was eating dinner with his family. His whole family and Angie.

“I love you today,” I said.

Silence.

More silence.

“Say it. Say it back to me, Fisher. Like you mean it. Like it matters.”

“Can we chat about this later?”

“I said it. In front of my grandparents … after they unknowingly called me a slut. I said it. I’m tired of not saying it. I’m tired of feeling guilty. Just … say it and let everyone else fucking deal with it.”

He cleared his throat. “So you clogged the garbage disposal?”

I pressed End.

Throwing my arm over my face, I grumbled and growled, just like the old Fisher. I was angry with him and the rest of the world. And I know it wasn’t fair for me to ambush him like that—after all, he stood up to Rory and unapologetically told her that he loved me.

But I wanted him to make the gesture without getting caught first. Was that too much to ask?

Maybe.

“Stupid …” I whispered to myself. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Just minutes earlier, I had given my family a long speech on being kind and not judging others. I just left the kitchen with the words everybody means the world to somebody in my head.

Was Angie someone’s world since her parents died and Fisher lost his memories of her? It was such a kind thing of me to ask Fisher to destroy her in front of his entire family on Thanksgiving. I was ashamed of myself.

And tired.

Getting a call that a baby was ready to come into the world was exactly what I needed. But that call never came.

“Hey.” Rory smiled at me when she opened my door a crack. “Pie is being served.”

“Okay,” I said, staring at the ceiling.

The door clicked shut, but it did so with Rory on my side of it. Then the bed dipped. She laid herself next to me, also staring at the ceiling, as she reached for my hand.

“I know he loves you,” she said. “I just want you to have it easier than I had it. I don’t want love to be this complicated and messy for you.”

“Messy …” I laughed a little. “That’s how we know it’s real.”

“I adore Fisher … or I did. And honestly, it’s just all been a lot. I was hit pretty hard, completely out of the blue. It would have been a lot to handle five years ago, but add in the accident, his memory loss, and Angie … well … it’s more than my heart and brain can reconcile at the moment. And I know … I know I have no right to say this, but I’m going to say it anyway. Seeing you and Fisher that day in that situation was not what any mom wants to see.”

I laughed and laughed some more. Rory started to giggle too. She definitely had no right to say anything to me. She saw Fisher enjoying my breasts. I saw Rose doing so much more to her.

Rolling toward her, I tucked my hands under my cheek. “I know it’s not the way you imagined … it’s not the way I imagined … but your little girl is in love. And it’s big. And all-consuming. It’s scary. It’s exhilarating. And real. So if you want to be the mom you didn’t get to be when I was going through my teenaged years, then I’m going to need a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on as I fight like hell to get my prince.”

“Your prince …” She gave me a sad smile and rested her hand on my cheek.

“I need you to want my happiness more than Angie’s. And I know that’s hard because Angie is a good person. And her love story with Fisher is pretty amazing. But it’s not forever. I just … I know it.”

Rory nodded slowly. “I’ve got you.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight





After pie.

After an apology from my grandparents.

After playing six games of Hearts.

Fisher called me.

“I’m calling it a night.” I excused myself from the game when I saw his number on my phone’s screen. It was close to ten-thirty at night. “Hi,” I answered in a meek voice just as I reached my bedroom.

“I’m in your driveway.”

My heart sucked at staying in chill mode or staying mad at him very long.

“Want to go for a drive?”

“I suppose.” That was my version of chill, even though I was already grabbing a hoodie to wear over my leggings and heading down the hallway.

“Take your time.”

“Okay.” I ended the call while I pulled on my wool-lined boots.