Page 109 of Make-Believe Match

“You? Bosh.” Gran ate a spoonful of soup. “You’ve never been afraid of anything. I used towishyou were afraid of more things—I was always positive you were going to break an arm or a leg the way you skied that mountain.”

“I’m afraid I made a mistake.”

She ate another spoonful and waited for me to continue.

“Devlin and I got married very fast.”

“And you’re not getting along?”

“No, we’re getting along,” I said. “I just—what would happen if we weren’t? What would happen, let’s say, if he changed his mind about me?”

“He would never,” Gran assured me. “I see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.”

“But what if it happened?” I pressed. “I know in the beginning of a thing, it can seem like everyone is on the same page, but sometimes...”

I just changed my mind, Lexi. I’m sorry.

“Sometimes people change their minds. Look at Andrew.”

“Andrew wasn’t the one for you.”

“I know he wasn’t, but my point is that people can change. People can leave. What happens if Devlin leaves me in a year or two?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Gran.” I leaned forward and put both hands on the table. “Tabitha told me about some kind of five-year clause in the will that says my inheritance can be revoked if my marriage doesn’t last at least that long. Is that true?”

“Yes, but I’m not worried, darling. That’s why I didn’t mention it.” She smiled sweetly. “It’s so obvious you two were meant for each other.”

“But—but five years is a long time,” I said.

“Nonsense. You grandfather and I were married over sixty years. Believe me, time flies, darling. Before you know it, you’ve got kids and grandkids, wrinkles and gray hair, cataracts and tired old bones.” She laughed gently. “But you still have each other.”

* * *

Devlin was in the kitchen when I got home. “Guess what I did?” he shouted as I removed my jacket and tossed it onto the couch.

“What?”

He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen in my dark red apron, a proud grin on his face. “I made dinner!”

I managed a wan smile. “What did you make?”

“Chili. I remembered Gran saying it was your favorite as a kid, so I called Xander and got his recipe. He used to cook for us when we were kids.”

“It smells good,” I said, heading into the kitchen to peek into the pot on the stove. “And it looks great.”

“Thanks. Ithinkit tastes right, but if you don’t like it, I’ll take you out for dinner. I just wanted to give you a break from cooking.” He pressed up behind me and kissed the side of my neck.

“Thanks. I’m sure it’s going to be good.” Although I wasn’t hungry at all. In fact, I was nauseated.

“Cooking is so much work,” he said, taking bowls down from the cupboard. “All that chopping and slicing and stirring and making sure shit doesn’t burn over here while you’re cutting something up over there.”

“It gets easier.” Moving slowly, I opened a drawer and took out two spoons. “Want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks.” He took off the apron and hung it on a hook inside the back stairwell.

I pulled two beers from my fridge and pried the caps off before going to the sink to wash my hands. The words I needed to say to him stuck in my throat.