Page 18 of One More Chance
“You said content.”
“You’re not?” he asks.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” he asks as we turn, continuing our walk toward the main house.
“I’m not sure why exactly. I guess if I knew why, I could fix it. I’ve just felt less and less content with my life every day since Charles left. Not because he left, necessarily. I don’t think his return would make me feel more content. Just in general, like I’m missing something.”
“Maybe you should try new things, see new places. Meet new people until something clicks,” he suggests, like it’d be so easy to just leave and go somewhere else.
Where would I even start?“Where would I go?” I ask aloud.
“Wherever you want.” He shrugs. “That’s the beauty of being an adult with nothing tying you down. You can fly free.”
I think about his words as we approach the porch. Lyla and Gentry fly out of the side door in a hurry.
“There you are!” she says, rushing toward me. Her tone is shrill and nervous; it’s the one she uses when she’s panicking.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“We have a wedding problem. The guy who was supposed to sing our song for our first dance just canceled. I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to find a replacement, but no one’s available this late. It’s awful,” she says.
“Can’t the DJ just play the song?” I ask.
“I guess, but that’s not special. It’s just not how I imagined it at all. I wanted our song to be live,” she huffs.
“Excuse me,” Jensen says, “I don’t want to intrude, but I can sing. And play guitar. I’m pretty decent at it, if I can say so without sounding like I’m bragging too much.”
“Are you…are you saying you would do it? I mean, could you? Would you even have time to learn the song?” Lyla asks, her voice getting high again but this time with excitement.
“I just need to be taken to a guitar shop. I didn’t bring mine with me. And I need to know the song. I’m sure I can manage,” he says.
What is he, some kind of musical savant?
“Oh my god,” Lyla yelps, rushing toward Jensen and bear hugging him, pinning his arms to the sides of his body in the process. “Let me pay you for your trouble.”
“No way,” he says. “Totally unnecessary.”
“At least let us pay for the guitar,” Gentry offers, giving Jensen that man-to-man look of an unspoken something I can’t quite explain.
“Okay, sure,” Jensen agrees. “But I’d be happy to do it as a wedding gift.”
Jensen and Gentry make plans to go into town to the local music shop to grab a guitar the next day, while I stand off to the side running through a mental checklist.
So, let’s see. He’s been to a million places around the world, has a super impressive well- paying job, is devastatingly beautiful, and now I learn he can sing and play guitar. Yeah, that seals the deal. He’s way too good for me. Way. Too. Good. A man like Jensen probably has women lined up around the block for dates, or even just the chance to smell his hair.
There’s no way he’d be into a simpleton like me. This whole fake flirting, getting to know each other, and buddy buddy plus one talk feels more and more like pity as I tick off all the things he has going for himself.
Pulling out my phone, I walk up the stairs while the rest of them are still talking. In the kitchen, I’m greeted by Cora.
“Oh hey,” she says.
“Is your brother always…um, I don’t know…like that?” I ask, not even sure what I’m asking.
Cora doesn’t appear to be caught off guard considering I skipped right over the greeting and straight to the questions. “Yep.” She takes another bite of her fudge bar.
“Well that’s…”