Page 32

I shouldn’t be surprised. What did I expect? That Bryan Lawson, the man who barely looked at me when I first came back, would suddenly want me again?
That he would be the boy I remembered, the one who used to kiss me like I was the only thing that mattered? The one who would sneak up behind me just to press a smile against my neck, who used to murmur my name like a promise?
A bitter laugh threatens to escape. Of course not. I left him. I broke him. And he’s made sure I know it.
Still, the fact that I wanted more when it was nothing but a mistake to him? That hurts me and infuriates me.
“Emma?”
Stella’s voice snaps me out of my spiral, and I blink, realizing I’ve been scrubbing the same kennel door for at least five minutes. My knuckles are white around the rag.
“You okay?” Stella frowns, arms crossed, watching me too closely.
I force a smile. “Yeah. Just zoned out.”
Her eyes narrow. “Sure. That wouldn’t have anything to do with you-know-who, would it?”
My stomach clenches, but I keep my expression even. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right.” She smirks, tossing a kibble bag onto the counter. “So, you totally didn’t look like you wanted to either punch something or cry while scrubbing that kennel.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just a dirty kennel.”
“Uh-huh.” She taps a pen against the clipboard. “So, what happened with Bryan?”
“Nothing.”
Stella lifts a brow. “Liar.”
I sigh, setting the rag down. “It’s fine. We… kissed.” The word tastes strange on my tongue, too heavy with everything I don’t say.
"Oh, my goodness! I knew it!"
"Hey, lower your voice," I whisper while glancing around.
"Sorry, but I need details. How was it?"
"It was good. But…"
"But what?" Her face bright with excitement eager to scoop the juicy details.
“And then he said it was a mistake. That’s it.”
Stella’s mouth falls open. “He what?”
I shrug like it doesn’t sting. “It doesn’t matter. I mean we aren't dating anymore so he’s right.”
She snorts. “Right. And I’m the Queen of England.” I shoot her a look, but she keeps going.
“Emma. You and Bryan have history. He doesn’t just kiss you and feel nothing. That man looked like he was ready to set the world on fire the night of the funeral when he saw you.”
I shake my head. “Well, according to him, I’m just history he won’t repeat.”
Her face twists. “He said that?”
Before I can answer, a voice filters in through the open restroom door. Mia and Jen, two of the other volunteers. I stiffen.
“…Emma and Bryan thought they’d rekindle, but he told Old Man Pete it’s nothing. Just platonic.”