The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 30

The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 30

The Claire who sat in the Van Ness living room, sipping cold tea with her head bowed.

The Claire who sat in the ER, answering client emails with an IV drip in her arm.

The Claire who stayed up into the deep hours of the night, stitching dress after dress, fantasizing that Christian would see the work and finally feel tenderness toward her.

I don’t dislike her.

I just want to hold her.

And tell her: Stop waiting.

The things you want… if someone else won’t give them to you, go take them for yourself.

When spring arrived, Grant asked me to pay off that “interest” with dinner.

I chose the restaurant.

A hole-in-the-wall pizza joint in Queens.

When he showed up, he was still wearing a black overcoat over his suit, standing at the entrance looking utterly out of place next to the red plastic stools.

I asked, teasing, “Does Mr. Ashford think he can stomach this?”

He pulled off his coat and sat down across from me.

“If Claire’s treating, I’ll eat street cart food if I have to.”

I pushed the menu toward him.

“Don’t regret it. I added a lot of crushed red pepper.”

He looked at me and smiled.

“I have a very high pain tolerance.”

My hand, reaching for a fork, paused.

If those words had come out of Christian’s mouth, they probably would have stung.

But Grant said it so naturally.

He wasn’t asking me to feel sorry for him.

He was just telling me he could handle trying the foods I liked, right alongside me.

Halfway through the meal, his ears were red from the spice, but he was still stubbornly insisting he was fine.

I finally couldn’t help but laugh.

“Grant. If you can’t handle spicy food, just admit it.”

He took a sip of water, the corners of his eyes still crinkled with a smile.

“First official date. Can’t lose too quickly.”

I blinked.

“This is a date?”

“You said you’d wait until after the divorce.”

He looked at me.

“I waited until that day.”

The warm air of the pizza shop rose around us.

I suddenly remembered that Christian used to wait for me too.

For me to back down. For me to compromise. For me to swallow my own pain quietly.

Grant was different.

What he was waiting for… was whether I wanted to take that step forward, now that I was finally free.

I didn’t avoid his gaze.

“Grant. I just got out of a really bad marriage.”

“I know.”

“I might not be ready to trust anyone easily for a long time.”

“That’s alright.”

“I also don’t want to jump into another relationship right away.”

He nodded.

“Then let me make a reservation. For the right to pursue you.”