Page 58 of Merry Fake Bride

“I would have met you anywhere you asked me to.” It’s difficult to keep the weight out of those words, but I mean it with my whole heart.

Any address, any place, any time.

I’d be there just to selfishly see her again and to listen to whatever she had to say.

Even if it’s hatred and anger that’s about to spew forth from her, I’m happy to be here.

“Yeah, well…” Devon’s attention falls to her cast and she toys with some of the softer stuffing that’s escaping the cast near her thumb. “I’m still surprised you were awake.”

“Sleep is a luxury these days.”

“You’re telling me.” The corner of her mouth twitches.

“This is new.” I reach forward just an inch to indicate to the flower. “Your own work?”

“No. There was a little girl who came into the store today with her own broken arm, so we traded doodles. I got this flower and I drew a butterfly on hers.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah, she was adorable.” Devon’s smile turns real as she recalls the moment. “I hope it lifted her spirits. She was so sad about being unable to play properly and worried that Santa wouldn’t bring her all the toys she wanted.”

“The problems of a child are so endearing when you get older.”

“Right?” She lifts her eyes and meets mine. “I remember being so distraught when I didn’t get the dream house I wanted as a kid. Felt like my world was ending. I was so naive.”

“Those things are important to a child,” I reply gently. “Did you ever get the house?”

“Something better. The year after, my dad built one for me from scratch. I played with it for hours until the roof caved in. Far too many dramatic life events for that one little house to handle.”

I smile but before I can reply, a yawning waitress appears at our table.

Her off-yellow dress matches the fabric of the booth and her white shoes carry the strain of far too many shifts in a place like this.

She removes a pen from her ear and shivers as a curl of her blonde hair falls loose.

Then her eyes meet mine and her bored expression melts into one of warmth.

“Well hi, handsome, what can I get for ya?”

Devon’s expression in the corner of my eye immediately sours. “Just some coffee.”

“No food?” She scribbles down on the pad in her hand.Lilais scrawled on the nametag hanging from a loosely fixed pin to her apron.

“Yeah, don’t you want to eat with me?” Devon pipes up, drawing Lila’s attention.

Lila’s eyes narrow a fraction as she looks Devon up and down, which makes Devon immediately shift awkwardly in her seat.Lila’s eyes dart between the two of us as if she can’t believe we’re sitting together. “You can order off the family menu if you want?”

The implication that we’re siblings is heavy, so I fix Lila with a calm, measured look. “Actually, I was leaning more toward something that could be shared romantically between two. Does this place still have the heartbreaker waffles?”

Lila’s brows raise and the disappointment floods her eyes. “Sure.”

“Then we’ll take that, please. And a refill for her.”

Lila scribbles on her pad and stomps away with Devon watching her, then her golden eyes flick to me.

“Still? Have you been here before?”

“Many times. When I was younger and I entertained escaping my awful life of privilege, this was as far as my driver would ever take me, so I would come here, sulk and eat, then return home with my tail between my legs.”