by Leddy Harper
“Oh, just regular coffee with milk and sugar, please,” I answered while slipping off my coat.
It took him a few minutes, but he finally came back with two hot mugs. Then he pulled a small carton of milk from his jacket pocket and set it in front of me. “You said milk, so I got you this, but in case you prefer creamer, they have some of that, too.” After taking the seat across from me, he grabbed the container of sweeteners and a mini carafe from the end of the table and slid it toward me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had to prepare my own tea or coffee, so the thought of getting to add my own sugar and milk excited me. It made me wish I could stay for a second cup, and maybe a third, just to have the chance to bask in normality for a little longer.
“Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you smiling so much?” he asked as he stirred a packet of sugar into his drink. He likely thought I was crazy—first crying over a cap, now grinning over a cup of coffee.
I lifted my gaze to his face and stilled for a moment, completely unaware of my expression. But it only took a second to realize that I had, in fact, worn a smile on my lips. I wasn’t sure how to explain it to him, so instead of trying, I just shrugged and went back to preparing my coffee.
“How long are you here for?”
“One more day.” I picked up my mug with both hands, allowing the heat to warm me through, and then met his stare. It was possibly the worst thing I could have done, because now that we were in better lighting, there was nothing to keep me from completely losing myself in his eyes.
“How long have you been here?”
While I heard that he had asked me a question, my brain couldn’t compute what it was. It took me several seconds of trying to pull myself together before finally giving up. “I’m sorry, I just can’t get over your eyes. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone with that color before. It reminds me of the beaches back home.”
“Do you live on the water?”
I berated myself for mentioning where I was from. I had desperately tried to steer clear of that topic, but it seemed that his eyes had the ability to render me stupid. “I live on an island in the North Sea, so yeah, I guess you can say that.”
His brows lifted high on his forehead as if what I had said was somehow impressive. “I’ve been to an island over there somewhere. I went with my friend, Joey, and his family when I was a kid, and again with just Joey when we were eighteen. It was beautiful.”
“Really? Do you remember which island?”
“Yeah, it’s a small country called Ilunabarra.”
I became paralyzed. My eyes remained wide open, refusing to blink. My chest froze, my lungs—unwilling to fill with air—burned behind my ribcage. And even though my heart continued to pump blood, the steady beats from before had turned into panicked thuds that I could hardly hear past the ringing in my ears.
There was no way he’d been to my country before.
There was no way this world was that small.
Luckily, he hadn’t noticed my reaction and continued talking. “The first time I went was the summer after my mom died. My dad was having a hard time balancing me and work, so Joey’s parents had offered to take me with them on vacation. I was only ten, so I don’t really remember too much about it. I just remember it was a lot of fun.”
“That was really nice of them.” With my mind whirling like a catastrophic cyclone, that was all I could come up with.
Ryan set his mug down and nodded. “Yeah, I’d love to go back, but it’s not cheap. Not to mention, we only went because Joey’s dad knew someone there. He had set us up in a really nice place on the water. If I ever have the chance to go back, I’m sure it’ll be a completely different experience.”
The more he talked, the more freaked out I became. I felt as if I was on the verge of a panic attack. But still, I tried to tell myself that this was merely a coincidence. “You were ten when you went? How old are you now?”
With a sheepish smile, he said, “Twenty-four.”
After doing the math, I realized I would have been eight when he visited Ilunabarra. I pulled my mug to my lips to give myself a few moments to run through that year of my life in my head. It was two years before my grandfather had handed the reins to my father. But other than that, I couldn’t recall much.
“How long did you stay on the island that summer?”
“Well, the entire trip was about three weeks, but we didn’t stay there the whole time. A week or so, maybe?” His brows knitted together as he studied me. “Why?”
“No reason.” I prayed that was believable. “Just trying to make conversation.”
“Do you know where Ilunabarra is?”
I practically choked on my sip of coffee. “Umm, yes. I know where it is.”
“Have you ever been before?”
“A few times. It’s a beautiful place.” I frantically thought of a way to change the subject without being too obvious. Then I took notice of his camera that sat next to him on the table. “Is photography a hobby of yours?”
Ryan glanced over at it and then back at me, a smile lighting up his handsome features. His lack of acknowledgment that I had changed the subject was enough to make me sigh with relief. “I guess you could call it that. But I actually work for a small studio in town.”
“That’s amazing. What kind of pictures do you take?”
“Family portraits, group photos, weddings, babies. Whatever they give me, really.” A shallow laugh drifted past his lips. “I used to work for a vacation magazine, but I couldn’t keep up with all the traveling, so I had to settle with something local. It’s nice, though. I can’t complain. It pays the bills, and really, that’s all that matters at this point.”
There was something about his expression that set a twinge of pain through my chest, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And being in the position of not wanting to discuss anything too personal, I didn’t wish to be the one who made him face his own anguish.
“I still enjoy taking pictures, though. So sometimes, I’ll just head out to the beach or, like tonight, the pier and capture whatever Mother Nature decides to give me.” As he spoke of photography, his eyes lit up. It was evident that this was something he was incredibly passionate about.
“Do you do anything with them? Like sell them, or maybe display them in an exhibit?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I usually just upload them to my computer and edit them before saving them on a drive that I rarely go back and look through. It’s something I do for fun. I’ve never really given much thought to doing much else with them.”
“Well, I obviously haven’t seen them, but based on the way you talk about it, I can only assume you are at least decent. Maybe you should look into what your options are. That way, you aren’t hiding them on your computer.” Truthfully, I wanted to see the photos he had taken earlier, but I didn’t feel right asking. I would have to wait for him to offer, and it didn’t appear that he would.
“So…what are your plans for your last day in the States?” Ryan set down his mug, and I noticed he had finished his drink.
Peering into my cup, I realized I was almost done with mine as well. And for some reason, the thought of our time being over left me a little sad—which I explained away as disappointment about having to return to real life.
“I don’t really have any plans.” Part of me wanted to see him again—for another opportunity to experience what it would be like if I had a normal life. But the other part of me knew it would be nearly impossible to sneak out twice.
I quickly drank the rest of my coffee and waited for him to make the first move to leave. As long as he remained in his seat, so would I. But a moment later, he grabbed his camera off the table. I held my breath as he slipped the strap over his head, knowing that pushing his chair away would come next.
Except it didn’t.
Ryan leaned forward and met my stare, a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. It matched the spark in his aqua eyes. “I have to work
during the day, but if you’re not busy at night, would you like to have another cup of coffee with me?”
Giddiness danced through my nervous system, setting my skin ablaze with excitement. “Actually, yes. I would love that.” I wasn’t sure how I would do it, but I would find a way to meet with him again, to have one more night of anonymity before returning to my reality.
“Good.” He pushed away from the table, so I did the same. “Should we meet on the pier again? And then walk over together like we did tonight?”
I stood when he did, and then grabbed my coat, as if mirroring his every move. “I would love that, Ryan. I have very much enjoyed my evening. I can’t begin to thank you for the normalcy you have offered me.”
“Normalcy?” He appeared confused for a moment, but it quickly vanished as if he had answered his own question. “Oh, you mean… Yeah, I get it. Grief can feel like you’re the main character in a play that no one’s given you a script for.”
I hadn’t been talking about Daniel, but since Ryan had come to that conclusion on his own—and it made sense—I decided to go along with it. “I have never heard it described like that before, but I have to admit, that is exactly how it feels.”
“It’ll get easier, Moira. I promise.” His smile set about a sense of peace within me that I never knew existed. The pain of my brother’s death, the anxiety of returning home, the role that awaited me…all of it gone. Somehow, Ryan’s presence was capable of offering me a reprieve from it all.
We walked outside together, but once the door closed, he went one way, and I went the other. And as I made my way toward my hotel, I thought about Ryan and my purpose for meeting him tonight. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that my brother had sent him to me, if only to give me a brief moment of peace.
I stilled on the corner and looked toward the dark sky. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and imagined Daniel’s face. A smile took over my lips until my cheeks burned and ached, something I hadn’t experienced in a while. But all of that quickly vanished when I heard the harsh sound of heavy footsteps coming closer. And then came the voice I was expecting. “Don’t move!”
Even though I didn’t have to turn around to know it was my security, I did so anyway. Andrew came up from behind while Patrick sprinted toward me from my left. Running from them wasn’t an option—not like I would have anyway. They were there to protect me, and I was sure they were frantic when they realized I had slipped out of my suite.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” Andrew held my forearms and searched my face for any sign of distress. “You are a princess, Moira. You can’t roam the streets like a commoner.”
And just like that, the clock struck twelve. My coach turned into a pumpkin, my dress into rags, and my bracelets into the shackles that kept me a prisoner.
I was back to reality.
Chapter 2
Ryan
I’d waited for Moira on the pier for over thirty minutes before giving up. But rather than go home, I took a walk on the beach. I needed to clear my head; last night had left me with jumbled thoughts and a whole lot of confusion.
I wasn’t even sure why I had asked her to meet me again. I was a married man—granted, my wife had left me almost a year ago, but that didn’t change the legality of my marital status. I had no business chatting up a beautiful woman, but as I stood in front of her, it was like my mouth had opened and someone else had asked the question.
Spending another evening with Moira would’ve been a slippery slope I was better off not traveling down. Even though the future of my marriage was uncertain, I knew that I needed to figure things out with my wife before entertaining the thought of spending time with another woman.
Right or wrong, I had thoroughly enjoyed myself last night—which was something I could honestly say I hadn’t done in a long time. And it wasn’t necessarily the person I was with, either. It was more or less the fact that I’d allowed myself a moment in someone else’s company. Someone who didn’t know me, who didn’t see me as the man whose wife had left him. I lived in a small town, so no matter where I went, at least one person knew my story. And truthfully, I was tired of being seen as the victim.
Moira didn’t look at me like that.
As I made my way along the shore, I allowed the solitude and soft sounds of the waves to quiet the myriad of things that beat against the inside of my skull. I needed to work through them one at a time, which wouldn’t happen if they all came at me at once. There was my marriage, my responsibilities to a certain little girl, my rapidly vanishing career, and as of lately, the stranger who’d managed to knock my world off its axis in the time it took me to drink one coffee.
Why did it feel like we’d known each other for a lifetime?
The sky was pitch-black by the time I made it back to my house. I wasn’t entirely sure how long I’d spent on the beach, but it was long enough to acquire a full bladder. I barely remembered making it inside, that was how badly I had to go. But as I stood in front of the toilet, relieved enough to think straight, I couldn’t remember unlocking the front door when I got home.
I always locked the door. It was almost a paranoia of mine. Blame it on being home alone a lot when I was a kid, but whatever the reason, I never left without locking up. As I retraced my steps, I recalled swinging the door closed behind me and then practically sprinting for the closest bathroom. I even remembered tossing the soggy paper bag from the beach into the sink on my way to the toilet. Yet my keys remained in my pocket.
It freaked me out enough that I didn’t bother to flush, too impatient to check the house for missing items—or an intruder for that matter. Only a couple of people had a key, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t have broken in through the back and then used the front door to haul out their loot. However, as I cautiously made my way into my room, my world stilled on its axis for the second time tonight.
There, on the edge of my bed, sat Carly.
My wife.
The woman who had run away almost a year ago, leaving me to raise her daughter.
“Hey, Ry.” Her voice sounded the same. Hell, she even looked the same, which pissed me off because I felt like I’d aged ten years since she left. Her smile was more hesitant than before, but it was still the same one that used to make my heart skip a beat.
“What are you doing here?” That shouldn’t have been my first question, but it was all I could come up with considering the circumstances.
“I’m glad to see you, too, Ryan.”
I rolled my eyes, amazed at how she could somehow turn this around to make me the bad guy. “What’d you expect me to say? How did you think I would act after ten months without you? Did you honestly think I would jump for joy and welcome you back with open arms, not a care in the world about where you’ve been or why you left?”
She stood and crossed the room in only a few strides. I was too stunned to move, so when she made her way to me, I just stood there, allowing her to touch my arm. Allowing her to reel me back in with that smile and those eyes—the same eyes I had fallen for six years ago. “I’m sorry. I know that what I did was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it. So I wanted to come back and make things right again. I missed you, Ryan. I missed us.”
I refused to give her the satisfaction of hearing me admit it, but I had missed us as well. No matter how many times I’d cursed her in my head, how many nights I’d lay awake, unable to sleep, how many days I sat, waiting for her to walk through the front door, it didn’t take away the fact that I loved her. There were so many times I had wished I didn’t, but I did.
“I messed up, and I know that. I was in a really bad place when I left—you can’t deny that.”
Carly was right, I couldn’t deny how down and depressed she’d acted during the months that led up to her departure. However, I refused to acknowledge that for fear she’d take it to mean that her actions were justified. Because they weren’t.
“But I’m better now, and I want to make things right with you.�
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“What about Amara?” I asked, mentioning the daughter that she’d left me to raise on my own. “How do you plan to make that right, Carly? She’s your kid, and you walked out on her. Do you have any idea of the impact that’s had on her?”
Sadness glistened in her eyes, and it took more strength than I knew I had not to bow down at the first sign of tears. “Trust me, I’m aware of this. That’s why I’ve busted my ass over the last however many months to get better. She’s already seven; the longer I spent away, the worse off she’d be in the end.”
There were so many things I’d wanted to say to her if or when she ever came back, but now that she was here, it was like I couldn’t find the list amongst all the other thoughts flying through my head. “What about the money? You wiped out our bank account shortly after leaving.”
“Yes, because I needed to get help. I needed therapy and a place to stay. Food. Medicine. I didn’t touch the checking account. I didn’t leave you with nothing.”
I couldn’t help but balk at her. “You took everything we had in savings. What would’ve happened if we needed something? If we had an emergency here? I wouldn’t have been able to pay for shit without somewhat of a nest egg.”
“I knew you’d be fine. You make good money at—”
“Made,” I corrected her. “You didn’t possibly think I could be a single father and keep that job, did you? Amara has to go to school. How did you expect me to travel to earn those paychecks if she has to stay here?”
Carly dropped her head and covered her face with her hands. It was the same song and dance. When she didn’t get her way, she’d cry. Or pout. Apparently, abandoning her husband and child wasn’t any different.
“I need a minute.” I shook my head and pulled in a deep breath. “No, I need a hell of a lot more than a minute. At the very least, give me the night to take all of this in. We can discuss it all tomorrow—hopefully, in a much calmer manner. I just don’t have it in me right now to deal with this.”
