“Then what should we do? I realized how selfish and needy I can be when it comes to you. I don’t trust myself to change overnight.” She laughs lightly. “I’m very fragile and tired, and old habits die hard. I’m not talking about romance or dating or anything like that. You’re still one of the most important people in my life, period. I don’t want to accidentally do anything to hurt you or Summer.”

“Then let’s face it. Try harder to be better. Honestly, I think twenty-year-old me is always going to be waiting for you. My dream girl. My Cinderella. But I’m not twenty anymore.”

Malcolm takes her hand. This could have been much harder. They could’ve shouted and cried and poured their bleeding hearts out, but that’s never been them. Minus a ten-year-long miscommunication mishap, they’ve always been like this. Back and forth. Open and honest.

Until they lost themselves.

Malcolm continues, “Who you are now is much better than that frozen, idealized image I’ve held on to for too long. You’re my best friend. And business partner. And general light of my life. Now that everything’s out in the open, we owe it to each other to be who we know we are.”

Thirty

FRIDAY

The weather report said it’d be curiously chilly for a summer night.

After tearing her closet apart because she simply has nothing to wear, Joy calls Grace for help. They settle on a red bodycon dress with a plunging neckline and a black double-breasted swing coat. Her jewelry is limited to earrings—medium-sized diamond clusters—and star hairpins pulling her braids back on the left side.

Standing on the sidewalk, Joy shivers a little, bouncing up and down in her black wedge heels while waiting for Fox to answer the door. The glass windows are covered with newspaper on the inside, but the front door already has its window sticker: Fox’s company logo with MonahanWoodland in a classic script.

Fox finally opens the door, wearing a gray button-down shirt, black vest, and dark pants. Joy’s so surprised at the sight of him, she laughs in appreciation. “Hey, hey and wow. Look at you.” He dressed up for her. She’s sure of it.

“Hi,” he rumbles, and invites her in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait. I was in the back.” He closes the door, locking it and leaving the key there.

The front area is one large open space with items displayed in thematic sections—tables together by size, chairs in sets or singles, cabinets, drawers, mirrors, and artistic wood carvings and sculptures.

Joy bends at the waist to inspect a wood carving of a sea turtle coasting on some waves. “Did you make all this?”

“A good portion of it. I’ve contracted with a couple of local woodworkers to sell their stuff here too.”