Page 63 of The Ampersand Effect

Tobin smirked as she watched Grier flip her braid over her shoulder, feigning superiority.

“Grab a colander from the cupboard over there, Cinderella. You can work for your meal today.” Any excuse she could make was welcome if it brought Grier closer to her. “These veggies need washing. When you’re done with that, you can start grating the parmesan.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Grier saluted her as she smirked. “Careful, Doctor. I might get used to ordering you around.”

Not a date. Not a date. This is not a date.

Grier came around the counter, retrieved the colander from the cupboard, and then checked Tobin gently in the hip as she settled in front of the sink to start washing the vegetables. Tobin had never felt so at ease with someone in her kitchen. Her heart fluttered, and she realized this was definitely something she could get used to.

“Would you like to eat at the table or out on the deck?” Tobin asked a little while later, as she plated their lunch, a market-fresh garden pasta in cream sauce, and pulled some fresh garlic bread from the oven.

“Is that a real question? The deck. Always the deck.” “The lady likes an ambience with her meals.”

“The lady does. Point me to the utensils and I’ll grab them. Drinks?”

“The silverware is in that drawer,” Tobin said, indicating with her hip. “There are a variety of drinks in the fridge. Please grab me a water, and whatever you want for yourself.”

They sat on the sectional, plates on a convertible cushion flattop between them, facing each other. It was friendly, and intimate.

Tobin wasn’t caught off guard—as she might have been with anyone else—when Grier, without preamble, steered them directly to the reason for their non-date today. “So that explanation I was promised as a lure to get me over today. Now seems like a good time to start.”

The nonchalance with which Grier eased into the conversation— casually slurping a string of pasta—refreshed Tobin. She was having a reckoning of sorts, coming to terms with the knowledge that talking with Grier was comfortable, easy even. Grier seemed to value thinking before speaking, and even their difficult conversations felt respectful and tempered.

Tobin looked at her and buried her fear. It no longer had a place between them.

“I was scared. Am scared. But, also,was. I’m still scared, but I’m trying to honor the fear by letting it live, without giving oxygen to its fire.”

“Do you always speak in metaphors? Or is this just for me?” Grier smiled, jabbing a little. Tobin appreciated it—it made her feel safer.

“I’ve been known to wax poetic when the need arises.” She smiled, directing her emotion directly into Grier’s eyes. Then she continued.

“I was engaged before.” She forced herself to maintain eye contact, even though those four words were some of the hardest she’d ever spoken. She wasn’t used to saying them—the hurt was too raw. “Before my accident.”

“So, the ex you mentioned at the gala wasn’t just a girlfriend, but a fiancée.” It was a statement.

Tobin watched as Grier unconsciously reached for the pendant around her neck, fiddling with it as she remained quiet, listening.

“Yes. I hope you don’t think I was trying to mislead you. I don’t talk about it much. There are more scars than what the eye can see from that accident, and she is several of them.”

Grier didn’t break eye contact, but her eyes flitted across Tobin’s face, seemingly searching for something—some answer—inside her.

“I don’t blame you for withholding. I understand.” Grier reached across the little tabletop and found Tobin’s hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. Tobin accepted the gesture and felt her shoulders relax while cool, invigorating air filled her lungs as she released the breath she had been holding. She’d never felt so safe talking about one of the most horrific periods of her life. “I’m sorry she left. No one deserves to be abandoned, but especially not like that. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Tobin took another steadying breath and allowed Grier’s acceptance to settle in her chest. There was more she had to say.

“She didn’t abandon me—we agreed to end the relationship because we were both scared. She was afraid of losing me in another accident, and I was scared of seeing the hurt my accident caused her. It’s a fear I still have—in a new relationship, I mean. I’m genuinely afraid to let someone in, only to hurt them—unintentionally— through another accident. And to be hurt by them when they decide the risk is too great… that I’m not worth the risk.”

There it was. She couldn’t take it back. The truth—hot and raw—hanging in the space between them. She watched Grier untangle her thoughts, wishing for her hand to still be on top of hers. That small touch would have been a kindness of unimaginable proportions in this moment, when she felt the most exposed, laid bare for Grier to draw the same conclusions Talia had. Tobin turned to look out at the lake, unable to watch the realization hit Grier’s face—the one that said she wasn’t enough.

“Will you look at me, Tobin?”

She couldn’t fight the pull of Grier’s alluring eyes, even knowing the answer she’d find in them could steal her breath—and with it, her hope.

“You are the one who gets to determine your worth. If someone else can’t rise to your value, then they are the ones who are not worthy of you. Not the other way around.”

Tobin just stared at her. A lump the size of the Sahara formed in her throat, and she felt the sting of tears stab at her ducts. She blinked furiously, trying to contain them.

“Your accident sounds horrific, even without knowing the details. But your breakup took courage, not cowardice. It takes a profound level of emotional maturity to realize that two people aren’t as compatible in the face of certain challenges as they oncewere—to accept that, and to correct it. And yet it feels like you’ve been carrying this burden for, what, three years? As if you’re somehow to blame for an accident that could have killed you, but instead gave you the chance to actually live. The accident wasn’t your fault. Maybe it’s time you start living.”