Chapter 56 Hope
hope
Are you sure you don’t want to stop the sale of the house?” Kirsten asked for the umpteenth time on the drive from New Orleans to Wedding Tree. She’d insisted on picking me up at the airport so we could spend more time together since I was only in town for the day.
“I told you, Kirsten—I don’t want to see Matt every time I go outside.”
The thought of seeing him at all was, quite frankly, killing me. I’d treated him terribly. I’d run out on him, avoided his calls, and ignored his texts and e-mails. After a week, he’d given up trying to contact me. He was probably furious at me—and I couldn’t blame him. I’d behaved dreadfully.
All the same, I was planning on moving back. I was going to follow my dream of painting and living in a small Louisiana town.
“I think I might want to look at places twenty minutes or so away—in Madisonville or Covington, maybe. That way I won’t see Matt and the girls every time I go to the grocery store.”
I especially didn’t want to watch him meet and date someone else. If our temporary arrangement to help each other over the hump had worked for him, well, I didn’t want to have to witness the results.
Kirsten gave me a sympathetic smile. “Poor darling. You’ve got it bad.”
I did. And I knew I’d have to address it soon, but I just wasn’t up for it today.
Today, I was selling Gran’s home to a faceless investment consortium, then flying back to Chicago to pack up my belongings.
As Gran liked to quote from the Bible, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” In other words, each day has enough trouble of its own without borrowing trouble from tomorrow.