“You think it’s unrealistic to expect to find someone who loves you and who you love back?”
“I think it’s hard to find that. Relationships are often one-sided, as you said the other day. One partner invariably feels more than the other. Mom did, and look where it got her.”
Her grandmother was silent for a long moment. Then she drew breath, as if she was about to say something.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she stood up.
Fliss realized how tired she looked and felt a pang. “Why are you up this early? You should have slept in. What can I do for you? Once I’ve walked Charlie and Hero, I thought I’d make a start on the garden. I’m going to call a tree surgeon to deal with the apple tree.”
“That would be helpful.”
“And I’ll change the sheets on your bed.”
“Thank you.”
Fliss bit her lip. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Her grandmother paused by the doorway. “You can go and have dinner with Seth. Hear what he has to say.”
“Why? What’s the point of going over old ground? There’s nothing there, Grams. It’s history.”
“Maybe, but if you don’t go, you won’t know. Go to dinner. Clear the air. Have that talk you’ve been avoiding. Tell him how you feel.”
There was no way she was going to tell him how she felt. Not after last night.
He’d already caught her at a vulnerable moment. She wasn’t going to put herself in that position again.
But if she didn’t let him have the conversation he wanted he was never going to leave her alone.
This way she could keep both her grandmother and Seth happy.
And all she had to do was listen.
She’d let him say whatever it was he wanted to say, and then she’d leave.
“All right. I’ll go to dinner.”
Dinner. Not sex. Not a relationship. Two people clearing the air. Putting the past behind them.
That was all it was.
CHAPTER TWELVE
FLISS WASN’T THE only one who had a sleepless night.
Seth did, too.
He’d been called in to operate in the early hours of the morning. A dog had been hit by a car. Summer people, driving too fast on unfamiliar roads, buoyed by good spirits, both the sort that came from spending summer at the beach and the sort that was served at the beach bar. That side of it wasn’t his business.
His responsibility was the dog and the owner, because when an animal was involved there were always two patients.
It was a reminder of the grim side of his job, but also the good parts.
He thought the animal stood a good chance.
By the time he was satisfied he’d done what he could, the sun was rising and it hardly seemed worth going home, so he sat in his office with strong coffee and tried not to think about Fliss. Instead he tackled a mountain of paperwork, reasoning that doing it now would give him the time he needed to devote his weekend to his new home.