Shannon glanced around at the stark white walls in Jeremiah’s place. They came standard on houses like his. She’d painted hers, but he was obviously okay with the bright walls that felt like they belonged in a hospital, not a home.
The scent of Italian food mingled with the birthday cake candle he’d lit, and the weird combination of smells made her stomach turn. But she put a smile on her face and tucked her hands in her pockets. She hadn’t seen Jeremiah in a few days because of the wedding, and it felt like their relationship had taken a few steps backward.
“Are you excited about the painting tonight?” he asked, flipping open the lid on one of the pizza boxes.
“Ridiculously so,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to do a group painting night, but my sisters won’t go with me.”
“Why not?”
“
