“And honestly, you spend so much time taking care of everyone else. I thought maybe having someone new to talk to might be good for you.”
I stared at her.
She quickly added,
“I’m not trying to find you a husband.”
Then she gave me an awkward smile.
“I was just trying to be your wingman.”
“You decided to play matchmaker with a stranger?”
“I thought you might know him.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
I looked back toward the photographs.
“You took something personal, opened it, put it on display, and invited the man who sold it here before telling me anything.”
Emma’s face reddened.
She glanced toward the kitchen, where Noah was humming to himself.
Then she said quietly,
“You’re right. I should have asked.”
“I don’t want to meet him.”
The doorbell rang.
Emma and I both froze.
She opened the door before I could stop her.
An older man stood outside carrying a paper bag.
His hair was silver now.
Time had carved deeper lines around his eyes.
But not enough to prevent me from recognizing him instantly.
I stared.
“Stephen.”
His expression changed.
“Alana.”
Forty years disappeared in a second.
“You still have a remarkable talent for appearing after I’ve already made up my mind.”
He glanced toward the garage.
“I knew this might be awkward.”
“Awkward?”
I folded my arms.
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Emma stepped between us.
“I invited him, Mom.”
“I know.”
I looked directly at Stephen.
“I’m sure you still know how to make yourself sound reasonable.”
He lowered the paper bag.
“I came because I wanted to return something that belonged to you.”
“You already sold it.”
“I didn’t know you would want it.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“You never understood what I wanted.”
Then I started pulling photographs from the wall.
Stephen watched.
“Alana.”
“Don’t.”
“Please look at the pictures in order.”
“I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
“I know.”
His voice was calm.
Then he looked toward Emma.
“Would you mind if I showed her something?”
Emma looked at me.
I hated that she was waiting for permission.
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