I Made a Bracelet for the Man Who Didn’t Love Me, and He Wore It for Two Years Chapter 03

I Made a Bracelet for the Man Who Didn’t Love Me, and He Wore It for Two Years Chapter 03

Vivian came home the next afternoon.

She looked much better, a huge bouquet cradled in her arms.

Blushing, she showed me the necklace at her throat and asked,

“Pretty? He had it custom-made to celebrate me getting out of the hospital.”

I’d always known what Grant was like.

Grant had never needed to think about money. He’d grown up surrounded by the best of everything and had no reason to settle. Not long after we’d met, I’d stained my clothes, and he’d casually handed me a fifteen-hundred-dollar designer shirt.

When I tried to give it back, he’d only said, “Throw it away.”

But now, looking at the necklace around Vivian’s neck,

it struck me.

So even Grant Whitmore had a thoughtful, gentle side.

Vivian and I had been roommates for a while.

I knew a little about her past.

Her first love came from a wealthy New York family.

Sophomore year, intimidated by the gap between their backgrounds, she’d broken things off and gone abroad.

Three months earlier, she’d returned to the U.S. after finishing school.

And they’d finally gotten back together.

Now they were long-distance between New York and D.C., rarely seeing each other.

The day they reconciled, Vivian had cried on my shoulder.

“He stayed single all these years. He waited for me. I was the one who got scared and walked away. I let him down.”

I’d asked, “Are you going to move to New York?”

Vivian had shaken her head. “Maybe once I’m more settled. He told me it doesn’t matter where I am. If I want to see him, he’ll come.”

Back then, Vivian had leaned against my shoulder while I wiped her tears. I’d been genuinely happy for her.

After all, not everyone who waits for someone they love gets a happy ending.

I’d wished her well.

But now, when I thought back to that conversation, one thought kept circling through my head.

How could a coincidence be this absurd?

Vivian was the woman Grant had been waiting for.

Two days later,

I came home from work.

Vivian suddenly said,

“I want to invite my boyfriend over for dinner.”

My hand paused halfway through taking off my coat. “Give me a heads-up. I’ll stay out of the way.”

She nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

“But before you go, could you cook dinner for us? I may have bragged a little and told him I could cook…”

I went silent for a moment.

I was about to refuse.

Then she added,

“I’ll pay you. Your grandma’s medical bill is due, isn’t it?”

My grandmother had always been healthy, but two weeks earlier she’d taken a bad fall and needed surgery. The bill was more than I could afford.

And so,

I heard myself say, “Okay.”

The day Grant came over, I made a full dinner spread, then left before he arrived.

I had nowhere else to go, so I wandered the streets.

Before I knew it, I’d walked pretty far.

A little over an hour later,

Vivian posted an Instagram Story.

A photo of Grant serving himself dinner.

The caption:

[He said I’m a great cook.]

I swiped past without reacting.

Instead, I sent her a text.

[How much longer, Viv? Can I come back yet?]

She replied,

[Give it a little longer. He just left, and I don’t want you two crossing paths.]

Not long after, it started to rain.

I was looking for somewhere to duck under cover.

Then a car pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down.

I caught the clean, sharp line of a man’s profile.

His fingers tapped the steering wheel. Then he turned his head, his tone flat, almost careless.

“Get in.”