Ten Years Wasted Before Spring Chapter 11
After the new year, I officially took over management of the Seattle branch.
Life was busy and full.
Rowan Keene was a good work partner: professional, precise, and quietly funny.
We worked well together.
Sometimes we had dinner after work and talked about
projects, or about life.
He never pried into my past, and I rarely brought up:43
That kind of careful distance made me feel comfortable.
One day in March, Everett called me.
It was the first time he’d contacted me in more than six
months.
“Celia, I’m getting married,” he said.
I paused.
“Congratulations.”
“To Brynn.”
“I see.”
There was a silence on the other end.
“That’s all you have to say?” he asked. There was a hint of expectation in his voice.
I thought about it.
“I hope you’re happy.”
I meant it.
If they had chosen each other, then they should live well together.
They shouldn’t drag anyone else into their mess, and they shouldn’t keep tormenting themselves.
Everett let out a short, humorless laugh.
“You’re still the same.”
“People change,” I said. “But I really do hope you’re
happy.”
After hanging up, I went back to my work files.
My heart was quiet.
That evening, over dinner with Rowan, I mentioned it casually.
He looked at me gently.
“Does it hurt?”
I shook my head.
“Not anymore.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Wasting tears on someone who isn’t worth it is a disservice to yourself.”
I agreed.
After dinner, we walked along the waterfront.
The night breeze carried the smell of spring.
“Celia,” Rowan said suddenly, stopping. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you.”
I turned to him.
“I know you may not be ready to start something new.”
His eyes were serious and warm.
“But I’m willing to wait.”
