Page 108
Five weeks later, neither of them had made any actual plans.
“I don’t know.”
She turned in the chair to face him. “Why not?”
There were plenty of practical reasons. They both had jobs and responsibilities. Neither could disappear on a whim. But those weren’t what kept him from booking a flight.
“I don’t know what she wants.”
“Have you asked her?”
“No.”
The answer earned him the same expression she’d worn since she was old enough to recognize when he was being an idiot. He drank more water to avoid acknowledging it.
The truth was, he knew Amanda missed him. She called as often as he did, and the gifts they kept sending each other proved neither had forgotten the time they'd spent together.
But missing someone didn't automatically mean you were ready to change your life for them.
But missing someone didn’t automatically mean you were ready to change your life for them.
Grady carried his glass to the sink and rinsed it. He'd spent most of his adult life knowing where he belonged. After Leah died, he'd built everything around giving Rissa the stability she needed, and Amanda had built a life of her own long before she drove into his.
The last thing he wanted was for her to believe loving him meant giving up any of it.
“I’m not going to put her in a position where she thinks she has to choose between me and her life.”
Behind him, Rissa stayed silent long enough for him to turn and see why.
Her brow was furrowed. “How does going to visit her do that?”
It didn’t.
Hearing the question out loud made him realize how many steps he’d skipped in his head. Somewhere along the way, a simple visit had become tangled up with decisions neither of them had been asked to make.
Rissa knew him well enough to see when she’d made her point.
“You do this all the time, Dad.”
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Decide what’s best for everybody before you ask them what they want.”
His first instinct was to argue. Unfortunately, several examples came to mind before he could speak. “That’s not always a bad thing.”
“I didn’t say it was. But Amanda can decide what she wants. You can decide what you want. Then maybe you two could, you know... actually talk about it.”
That made an irritating amount of sense for someone who’d graduated high school two weeks ago.
“When did you become an expert on relationships?”
“I’m eighteen now. I know everything.”
A laugh escaped him. “God help us all.”
Her grin lasted only a moment before she studied him again. “Do you love her?”
That wiped away his amusement.
