by Amanda Ashby
“Adam—” Her voice broke, and his anger faded. He didn’t even know why he was mad. This had always been coming. She’d told him right from the start she’d been married to a man she adored. Loved. The kind of never-ending love Doug and Mary had shared. Two halves of the same person.
She only wanted me to scratch an itch. A fling. Short-term.
I said I loved her, and she couldn’t even say it back.
I’m not just a fraud. I’m a fool.
“I take it you’ve made your choice.”
“It’s not like that. My feelings are…complicated.” She choked. “Everything’s all tied up together. I’ve been at the bottom too many times. I know what it’s like to have nothing. I can’t lose Jessica or my business. I know you think you can move to St. Clair, but face it, Adam. Your life in L.A. Your brother. Your job. It didn’t work last time, and nothing’s changed.”
Nothing’s changed?
Poker-hot pain ripped through him. “Why’s it so hard for you to believe this is real? Jessica, my book, our past? They’re all things we can work through. Can’t you just—” He broke off as understanding hit him. That’s what this was about. “You still don’t trust me.”
The line was silent. Eternity went by.
“I don’t trust myself. Adam, we were naked in the woods. And it’s not the first time. When I’m with you, I’m not myself. I become Nina, and I’m so tired of being someone I don’t want to be.”
He gripped the phone tighter, adrenaline flaring. This was a breakup. He should have known. Her answer was always going to be no.
She thinks I bring out the worst in her.
“That’s not how I saw you. I told you, Nina wasn’t real. She was just someone I made up,” he said, desperation mixing with bitterness, already knowing it was too late. The damage had been done from the moment he’d written the book.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That’s how I feel. When I’m with you, I can’t trust myself, and that scares me. I almost lost Jessica. She’s the only one who’s stayed by my side. Not my father. Not Simon.”
Not you.
The words hung between them, silent and mocking. Not you.
The fight drained out of him.
It always came back to Simon.
And the fact she still loved him.
I can’t compete with a ghost.
He’d always accused her of being risk-averse. But that wasn’t true. She’d risked everything for her business. For her husband. Even for Jessica. There was only one person she didn’t think was worth taking a chance on.
Me.
“You’re right.” His gut twisted. When Eloise had broken up with him, she’d had to sleep with his brother to make sure he really got the message. Because she knew he’d just keep deluding himself.
He supposed he should be grateful Laney was taking the high road and just using a phone. This one was all on him and his overactive imagination. A soft sob broke his thoughts, and in the background, Violet barked, trying to comfort her.
“I wish it was different. I wish I was brave enough to make it work,” she said in a faltering voice. “Goodbye, Adam.”
She finished the call before he could reply.
Weights tugged at his ankles, the phone in his hand turning to concrete. This was why he didn’t do love. Because it was like being thrown off a cliff.
He wanted to smash his phone against the wall. Scream. Shout. But instead he just dropped it onto the table and lay back on the sofa as cold despair filled him. There was a reason it was called a breakup.
Because things got broken.
He was right back where he started.
Correction. This time it was worse. Because now he couldn’t vent it out in a book. He’d done that once, and it had been a disaster. Still, at least he wouldn’t forget. Wouldn’t let anything like this ever happen again.
He got up, dragged off his shirt, and found some running shorts and shoes. He needed to get out. To do something until every last thought of her had been driven from his mind.
…
Laney’s hand hurt. She looked down. Her fingers were still wrapped around her phone like a claw. Pointless. He wouldn’t call back now. Not after what she’d done.
He said he loved her. That he would wait. And she’d left him at an airport.
What are you really afraid of, Laney? Me leaving you, or people knowing we’re together?
His words bit down to the quick, hurting all the more because they were true. The pained expression in his eyes burned into her memory. He deserved more than to be stuck sneaking around with her. Waiting for her to be brave enough to pick him.
She loosened her grip, flicked the phone to “do not disturb,” and stood up from her pink sofa. Violet looked up from her basket, a little crown of daisies still perched on her scruffy head. Gray fabric poked out from under her. Curiosity prickled, and Laney slid a hand under Violet’s warm belly.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I just want to see what you’ve got there.” She tugged out a large gray sweater and groaned. “You took this from Adam’s apartment?”
That first time, he’d used it to line a suitcase for Violet to sleep in, and somehow she’d managed to keep it. She sat down on the floor and hugged her dog, fur tickling her face.
“I’m going to give you some advice. Keeping that thing will not make it easier.”
Violet just licked Laney’s hand and climbed back into the basket. They really were well matched.
It had to stop.
She padded into the spare room. The place where all of Simon’s possessions were still hanging in the closet, sitting on the bookshelves, even lined up on the little old wooden writing desk that had been his as a boy.
And where she kept the suitcase.
She dragged it out from under the bed. Dust blew up as she flipped the lid. Old clothes were folded up, and she lifted them before prizing away the cardboard covering the base. There was only one thing left in there.
A pale blue sweatshirt.
Unlike the one on the cover of the book, this had been stretched and faded, and there were holes in the sleeves while the cuffs were frayed and worn.
And yet I’ve still got it.
Her worst secret of all.
That she really was Nina. The whole time she was married, she’d kept the stupid sweatshirt, letting it lie at the bottom of a suitcase, hidden away. Her secret shame. The thing she’d never told her husband about. He wouldn’t even have minded. But the longer she’d left it, the harder it had become. And why risk it?
The sweatshirt had been part of her past. She wasn’t even sure why she’d kept it. Lie. Okay. She knew. They’d been out one night, and she’d been cold, so Adam had gallantly hooked it over her. It was miles too big, but his scent had been all over it, wrapping her up like an embrace.
Unlike the book suggested, she hadn’t kept it on purpose. She hadn’t even realized he’d left it in her apartment until several months after the breakup. Part of her had wanted to send it back to him; the other part—the lonely part—had told her to keep it. Then the book had come out, and it was far too late to give it back.
None of which explained why she still had it.
The guilt increased. After Simon had died and she’d sold the cottage, she’d been forced to go through all of his possessions. Jessica had helped. They’d both kept as many things as they could, but there were still piles of suits, jeans, shoes, and his entire collection of fantasy books that had all been collected by Goodwill.
What kind of wife am I to have kept this instead of one of Simon’s shirts?
Hot shame swept over her as she balled the sweatshirt in her hands. The trash was collected first thing in the morning.
“And you’re going to be in it,” she announced, marching down the stairs and out to the courtyard. There were no ligh
ts from next door because Adam was gone. Low branches threw dark shadows across the cobblestones as moonlight flooded in, but she hurried on, Violet softly padding after her.
The hypnotic ebb and flow of the water as it lapped the shore hung in the air. Her feet were bare as she reached the trash can.
She lifted up the lid and dropped it in.
The pale blue fabric collapsed like a broken body against the remains of last night’s meal.
And Nina slashed at that sweatshirt like it was flesh and bone, her face contorted in a furious mask of righteous anger. She hated it. Hated it.
“Oh, hell.” Laney snatched it back out. Obviously, being a hardened criminal wasn’t in her future career path. Violet nudged her ankle, huge eyes unblinking. “Stop judging me.”
It couldn’t stay. She’d closed the door for good, but if she held onto the sweatshirt, she might try and use it like a spare key.
Was that why she’d kept it all this time?
“Rwoar,” Violet complained.
“Shhhh,” Laney chided.
“You okay, honey?” Mrs. Brendan from the post office was out strolling.
Yup. Just talking to my dog. Good news is I’m totally sane. At least until she starts talking back.
“I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” The old woman’s eyes swept across Laney’s outfit, which consisted of pajama bottoms and an inside-out T-shirt. “See you at the town meeting tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
When the old woman had gone, Laney dropped the sweatshirt back into the trash.
There. It was done. Then she hurried inside before she could change her mind again. The fling was finally over.
Chapter Nineteen
“When you find the right person, you do whatever it takes to make it work.” Blue Moon
“You look like crap,” Eloise said from her hospital bed. The private room was large and airy and looked out to a green sea of trees, but Eloise, who usually loved being in the lap of luxury, still had tiny tense lines around her mouth. The baby was fine, but he knew she would still be worried
“Thank you for keeping things real, El.”
“That’s what you pay me the big bucks for.” She shrugged, her face free of makeup apart from her mouth, which was painted siren red. As were Ryan’s, thanks to all the kissing they insisted on doing.
Once again surrounded by lovers. Great. He stretched out his legs on the hospital chair.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked.
“Like I’ve been stuck in a bed for two weeks. You?”
Like I’ve been hit over the head with a sledgehammer five thousand times.
“Fine.”
“Anything you want to tell us?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Nope.” He shook his head. The pair of them had run a military campaign to find out what had happened in St. Clair, but he hadn’t been in the mood for sharing. Besides, nothing had really happened. Just business as usual.
He’d been dumped from a great height and was never going to make the same mistake again. No big deal.
“I don’t know why you’re holding out. She’ll crack you when she’s back to her full superpowers,” Ryan said in a fond voice, his hand entwined in his wife’s.
“There’s nothing to crack.” Adam got to his feet and kissed Eloise on the cheek. Then he pounded Ryan’s arm and headed to the door. “I’m going home, but I’ll see you both tomorrow. Try not to scare any more nurses with striptease acts.”
“Once,” Ryan called out after him. “It was only once.”
His agent called as Adam drove back to his apartment, but he let it go to voicemail.
“Jeez. Answer your phone. The preorders since we released the cover are going through the roof. You’re officially back. Call me.”
He didn’t bother. Instead, he climbed out of his car and walked inside as the irony twisted in his gut. Turns out all he needed was to be near Laney George to write it. Still. Ten weeks ago, that was all he’d wanted.
He checked the time. Still half an hour before the realtor arrived. Doug and Mary’s letters were sitting on his work desk. He’d read them multiple times and probably knew them off by heart. He randomly picked one up.
To My Dearest One,
Your meal is in the oven and just needs warming. I’m helping with the sewing circle and won’t be back until late. Don’t stay up and fret. Angelina will see me safely home. I made you a walnut pie but used honey instead of treacle because I know you like it best that way.
Your loving wife, Mary
He put it down.
Tilly said that death was a reminder of life. Was that why he kept reading them? To make himself feel better about being alive? If so, it wasn’t working. Not yet.
The intercom buzzed, and he got to his feet. It would be the realtor. He’d called her two days ago.
“Wow. This place is amazing. I can’t believe you’re parting with it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled. I’ll have buyers clamoring for it.” She was probably late twenties and dressed in a power suit. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was checking him out.
He folded his arms. “Good. I need to stay in town for another six weeks, then I’ll be ready to move out.”
“So, where will the famous Doctor Josh go?”
He shook his head. He had no idea, but after the baby was born, he’d figure it out. After all, there was only one tiny town that was out of the running.
He’d find somewhere that felt like home. He had to.
…
“That’s it. Well done.” Laney stepped back to inspect the cascade of mixed foliage India had just finished.
“You sure?” India frowned from her perch on the ladder. “I could…no. You’re right. It’s done.” She climbed down the ladder, her eyes uncertain. “You really like it?”
“I really do. I’m so proud of you,” Laney said, and India promptly hugged her.
“Thanks, boss. You’re the best. Now I’d better get everything tidied up and go find the wedding planner.”
Laney walked back to the car. Violet was asleep in the passenger seat. They were at an old inn forty minutes out of St. Clair. Pete was already gone. Laney was half tempted to stay and make sure there were no last-minute problems, but she resisted. India might be young, but she could handle it, and it was the best way to learn.
She climbed into her car and waved goodbye. The spring flowers were starting to lose their rich colors, and the grasses were turning from green to brown as summer prepared to make itself known. She stopped at one of her favorite little glens and foraged some ferns for an upcoming job, then took the coast road back into town.
The sea merrily bobbed up and down, bleeding into the blazing blue sky. The color of—
Nope.
She cut off the thought. It was getting easier now. Probably because practice made perfect. But it was the only way. It had to be. She had no right to think about him. She’d been the one to end it. And she’d obviously done a really fantastic job, judging by the radio silence.
Unfair.
He was just doing what she’d asked.
Nice guy to the end.
There had been an article on the internet about how his new book was already being pushed as the next big thing. It had mentioned Eloise and Ryan and how the pregnancy was progressing.
When they reached the store, Violet jumped out of the car. Laney carefully gathered her plants and let herself into the little courtyard. She’d pruned and weeded it yesterday, determined not to let things get out of control again.
“There you are.” Sam poked her head through the gate on Paige’s side of the wall. “We have wine and chocolates. And we’re not taking no for an answer.”
“Good. I’d love to come over.” She forced herself to sound happy as she checked Violet�
��s water bowl. Drums clashed out in the afternoon air. Paige poured her a glass of wine, and Sam held up a small dish of deathly rich chocolate-covered almonds.
Yes to both.
Another drumroll rang out, and Sam shuddered.
“Paige, I hope your new tenant is coping with all the noise.”
“He’s working odd hours, so I doubt he’s even heard it yet,” Paige assured her and then turned to Laney. “Speaking of tenants, Adam called yesterday to make sure I got the final rent check. He asked about you.”
“He did? That’s nice.”
She hadn’t told anyone about the affair, apart from Jessica, and that hadn’t actually been a conversation. More like an unfortunate demonstration.
“Laney, we’re here for you. You don’t need to speak. Or be happy. Or do anything. We just wanted to say you’re not alone.”
A tear leaked out of her eye. “You know?”
“It was an educated guess,” Paige said in a gentle voice. “He never noticed anyone else, even though India and Sam could both be supermodels. I doubt he even knows what color eyes they have.”
“Paige is right. Not about the supermodel crap. But the other stuff.” Sam squeezed her hand. Another tear leaked out.
How could there be so much crying?
“I found this.” Paige got to her feet and walked up the low stairs into her stockroom. She returned with a neatly folded blue sweatshirt. “It was in your trash can. I had an extra bag from the store, and I was checking if you had room in yours. I couldn’t bring myself to leave it there. Just in case.”
Laney took the sweatshirt and bowed her head. Paige had washed it, but even with the unfamiliar scent, the soft, faded fabric was familiar. Her stomach twisted, and exhaustion swept over her. She was tired of trying to hide who she really was. The life I had before Simon. Yes, it was humiliating, but surely it couldn’t be worse than how she felt now.
And apart from Jessica, Paige and Sam were the closest thing she had to family.
With a deep sigh, she looked up at her two friends.
Time for the truth.
“I’m Nina. And no, I didn’t do most of the things he wrote about, but it was based on me.”
