by Violet Duke
“How did he recover?” Dani asked softly, wanting, needing to know how a person could overcome the thing she feared most—a heart not just shattered, but ripped completely out from a loss so severe, a hole remained in your chest where all your hope and trust once was.
“He met you.”
Dani blinked in surprise.
“Sometimes when you’re ready to believe, love appears, but sometimes, life gets it backward. It doesn’t matter. The result is still the same.”
Claire didn’t have to say it. Dani already knew what the result was.
Because that’s what she wanted too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LUKE HIT HIS HEAD on the roof of the chocolate display case when he saw her approach.
Angela Prichard stepped forward and peered into the glass case. “Hi, Luke.”
Memories slammed through him. Four years since she’d stood him up a day before their wedding and her voice was still exactly as he remembered it.
“Hey, Angie.” He hurried out from behind the counter. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for calling.” Grabbing a seat at the nearest cafe table, she tucked her purse on her lap and looked across at him nervously. “Um, so how’ve you been?”
“Good. Busy.”
She glanced around the shop with a soft smile. “I can see that.” Eventually, her gaze collided with his and held. “Your new shop is amazing.”
Thank god history was a good icebreaker. “It’s nothing like the one in Mesa, huh?”
“I’ll say. You and your shop have become quite the household name.” The admiration in her voice was genuine. “I always knew it’d be like this for you one day.”
The familiar comfort of being around her returned like welcome rain and he finally smiled his first real smile. “You always did believe I had it in me.”
She tilted her head. “Why’d you call me, Luke?”
“Were you surprised?”
“Try shocked.” Her teeth caught on her lower lip. “Was it because you heard about—”
“Uh, yeah, I actually did hear about your divorce. I’m sorry.” The sorrow in his voice was genuine. “But that’s not why I called,” he admitted awkwardly.
“Then why? I didn’t think you and I had anything left to say.”
“Oh, we did; I just didn’t want to hear it. I do now. Tell me what went wrong with us.”
Her mouth fell open, startled. “But I told you—”
“No, all you said was that you didn’t want to marry me.” He couldn’t raise his eyes to meet hers. “But then you went and got married really quickly to the next guy who came along.”
“I am so sorry, Luke,” she said softly, her voice filled with remorse.
Blinking slowly, he finally looked at her. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Really. I just want to know why it is that my not-so-happily-ever-after highlights include being stood up a day before my wedding, dumped a week after getting engaged, and nicknamed the rare species of male serial monogamist who can’t get a woman to commit to him.”
Angie looked stunned.
“Is it me?” he asked quietly. He didn’t use the past tense.
“Luke, of course not. You’re an amazing man who pours his heart and soul into love.”
His expression became even more hooded. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“No, it’s an incredible thing. Just... I think not everyone loves the way you do. Even though I think we all want to.” Her lips tilted down at the corners. “Tell me something.”
He glanced up.
“You loved all your girlfriends, right? I’m not talking about Quinn and the girls you just dated, but the three others like me that you were serious about. You loved us each, right?”
“Of course.”
“The woman you were engaged to before me, did you love me more than you loved her?”
Luke’ mouth fell open in surprise, but no words came out.
“Since you wanted to marry her, by your blessedly romantic Luke logic, she was ‘the one’ that you’d love through space and time, right? Well, after you two split up, I came along and then I was ‘the one’ for two happy years. So then what does that say about her? About me?”
Uncomfortable now, he avoided giving a complete answer, mostly because he didn’t have one. “The love part wasn’t, isn’t quantifiable like that. You and I were more compatible, so the future I saw with you was just different from the one I saw with her.”
“And there it is,” said Angie with a wistful headshake. “When you’re serious about a woman, you look into the future and see an entire life with her. You can’t imagine what it’s like for the other person, if they’re not there, not able to see the same future.”
He was beginning to.
“So with your husband?” he asked. “You saw...”
“Yes, I saw the same future he did. That’s why I married him and not you.”
It all settled around him like a swift, dismal cloud. “And still you two got divorced.”
Her expression turned fierce. “Nuh-uh, no way. I didn’t spend two years having you turn me into this giant romantic who believes in forever love, only to see you lose it now. It exists Luke. I think I even had it for awhile.” She rubbed over the empty spot where her wedding band had once been. “Now holding on to it is another story though.”
A bitter laugh sifted out of him. “It’s a wonder my parents ever found and kept ‘it’. The sort of love that stays the course, builds stronger and brighter without an expiration.”
“You always were searching for that type of love, weren’t you, Luke?”
Of course. Everyone knew that—it might as well be on his business card.
“So why’d you give up for the last few years?”
Startled, he looked up. “What do you mean?”
“After we split up, I’ve had the ‘pleasure’ of running into Quinn a few times—you know, while she was out cruising around Tempe on her broomstick.”
Luke snickered. After she’d left, Angie had seen the true Wicked Witch in all her glory.
“Last she and I talked, she told me you’d been focusing on work and not on any lasting relationships. Friday night flings and the Saturday sleepovers, I think she called them.”
“For awhile.” He shrugged. “I guess I was just trying it out—”
“That’s not you.”
“Maybe, but with no one to ask to marry me, I stayed hurt free.”
She made a face. “No rhyming, Luke. Lord knows you never were a poet.”
His lips quirked, remembering as she probably was, the awful first few drafts of his vows.
A little bit more of the old Angie peeked out then. “Stick to your strengths, Luke. You’re not a play-the-field bachelor. You’re more like dun-dun-na-NAH Romantic Man whose superpower is hopeless romanticism. Your bat signal would be a big red heart over Gotham.”
What a god-awful, asinine description. He half-glared at her. “Gee, if that’s my superhuman power, what the hell is my kryptonite?”
“That’s you too,” she replied softly.
He stiffened.
Angie lifted one shoulder sympathetically. “The part of you that can look at something so utterly spectacular and wonder if it’s a mirage, the part of you that expects it to be. That’s your kryptonite.” She studied him carefully. “What I’ve always wondered is why it even exists.”
His eyebrows drew together bitterly. “What’s not to get? Look at my track record.”
She blinked in surprise as if finally realizing something. “Luke, you should know better than anyone that futures change. That we shouldn’t ever stop looking for ‘the one’ for us.”
“So we’re back to my failed relationships.”
She shook her head, annoyed. “No. I’m talking about your successful ones.”
The flagrant disbelief on his face quietly mocked that notion.
“I’m talking about your parents, Luke.”
He l
ooked up sharply.
Angie put a gentle hand on his face. “Your mother loved your father with all her heart. And from what she used to tell me, he loved her with all of his. But one day, the universe decided to make his heart stop beating. Call it fate, call it life, or call it just plain cruel. Your mother and father were meant to love exactly as they did for as long as they did. Fair or not, explainable or not. As awful as that was, your mom survived and then received the amazing gift of finding love again. And you got another parent who you loved as much as the one you lost.”
She looked into his eyes. “Your mother and father didn’t get to the forever part of their love because it simply wasn’t destined in their futures. But it is there with your mother and your dad. Luke, I think you and I were similarly meant to love, but just not for forever.”
He let that sink in. “Did you think you’d found forever with your husband?”
“Yes. It took me awhile but I know now that we were also meant to love exactly as we did—deeper than what you and I had, but for no longer in length.”
The pain in her eyes reflected in his frown. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Don’t be. I’m not. I’ll find it someday.” She smiled at him. “What about you? You dreaming about a wedding with your beer woman yet?”
Well...
She chuckled lightly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Where there’s a rumor that Luke Bradford’s ready to walk the white plank, it’s usually true.”
“Hey, watch it,” he retorted, humor returning to his voice.
“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy for you, Luke. Now you can finally have it all.”
His gaze faltered. “I won’t have Desert Confections,” he revealed softly.
Incredulous, her gaze snapped up to see if he was joking. “What? Why?”
Luke gave her the abridged version of his lease situation. “Quinn and I have crunched the numbers over and over. There’s just no way we can afford the lease increase. We’ll have to close our doors for good in June.”
Angie shook her head, refusing to accept that as the only option in the stubborn way he’d always loved. “Don’t give up, Luke. You can just move and turn Desert Confections into as big a success in a new location. You’ve gained a huge following from the throwdown. You can—”
“No,” he said quietly. “I’m selling my recipes too.”
Saying it aloud for the first time was like a knife to his gut; and by the stunned, appalled look on Angie’s face, he knew that she knew what this decision was costing him.
“What do you mean? Why in the world would you—”
“Quinn’s little boy needs another surgery. A damn expensive one. And the amount she needs to pay out of pocket is on top of the thousands she already owes in medical loans.” His hands fisted in emotion. “Quinn invested nearly as much as I did into the relocation. I can’t... I can’t drag her down with me.” Exhaling slowly, he met Angie’s sympathetic gaze. “Most of my homers will sell easily—a few premiere shops on the east coast have made offers over the years. And I can probably sell off my third basers to a company that specializes in chocolate gift sets for high-end department stores,” he rambled off emotionlessly.
All the while, Angie just kept shaking her head in denial, her expression stricken. “Luke, you can’t do this. I know you. I know what those recipes mean to you.”
“People are more important than recipes.” He patted her hand in a show of calm he wasn’t really feeling. “I can always create more.” He looked up and told her the part he knew she was wondering about. “My five best aren’t in that bunch.” At her relieved look, he clarified, “They’re being held as collateral for the loan I took out for all my equipment. I’m still contemplating what to do with those, but I’m leaning toward giving those up too, and closing out the loan.”
“Who would give you a twisted loan like that?” she asked, visibly angered.
“Noah Jameson. My landlord.”
Her hands curled into fists. “What a slimy bastard. I have half a mind to—“
He halted her rant. “I knew what I was getting into when I signed that loan. Noah’s not at fault here. In fact, he offered me a fairly long no-penalty deferred-payment extension due to the circumstances. But I just...” He sighed. “I don’t want to keep putting Quinn through this. A big part of me feels like I should just close out the loan and buy Quinn out. Cut things off cleanly. But another part of me is just hoping my other premium recipes will bring in enough so I can hold onto those five recipes for when I start over. Either way, everything I get from selling my receipts and dismantling the rest of the shop, is going straight to Quinn to return her investment, proportionate to the number of years she’s been with me, and give her a hefty severance package. Smart as she is, she’s way better off in some big corporation anyway.”
Angie studied his impassive expression. “Easy as that huh?”
“Yep,” he said blandly, his eyes avoiding hers.
“And where do you fit in all this? How much of what’s left goes to your future?”
His eyes grew more hooded. “Not enough to open up again on my own right away,” he admitted. “But that’s okay. I’ll start over. Make new recipes. Resave. I did this whole thing once. I can do it again.”
“This is a huge decision, Luke. All of it, not just the closing down, but the forfeiture of your five best recipes… What does your girlfriend think about all this?”
“I haven’t told her yet. She’s not exactly…future-oriented. I don’t want to scare her.”
Frowning at the dismal look he was undoubtedly wearing, Angie placed her palms on either side of his face and sighed. “Luke, the future is just a path. For two people to be on one path together, all they need to do is head in the same direction—at the same time—and want to take the same turns and exits together. In my case, my path eventually veered away from my husband’s. In yours, it might be as simple as you waiting a little longer for her to catch up.”
“Sometimes I wonder if she’ll ever get there.”
“Want me to light the heart signal in the sky?” asked Angie, straight-faced.
He pinched her side, laughing despite himself. “I forgot what a brat you are.”
Angie squeezed his hand. “Even if it takes time, don’t settle for less than you deserve.” She shrugged sagely. “If we’d stayed together, that’s what we would’ve been doing—settling.”
“I still would’ve gotten the better deal,” he said honestly, stroking her cheek.
“Damn straight. I’m a freakin’ prize,” she preened. “So now stop feeling sorry for your mediocre self and get that girl to marry you so I can stop feeling bad about leaving your ass.”
He laughed and hugged her affectionately. “I’ll do my best.”
Closure—as liberating and eye-opening for hindsight as it was for foresight.
Placing his forehead against Angie’s, he kissed her nose. “Thanks for coming today.”
“Anytime, Luke. You know I’m always—”
Suddenly, a quick motion outside drew Luke’s attention away from Angie.
There was no one there.
There was something on the ground outside his shop, however.
He didn’t know why but he knew he had to see what it was. An uneasy feeling crawled through him. The more his eyes made out the details of the tiny object, the faster he walked.
His eyes hadn’t fooled him. It was a piece of chocolate…a lovingly crafted truffle, carefully decorated and adorned with a tiny gold letter message: I love dreaming with you.
Now half covered in dirt. Abandoned.
Deemed unsalvageable by the woman who’d made it for him.
* * * * *
DANI RAN INTO her office and locked the door, taking in deep gulps of air, failing miserably at stopping the useless flow of tears. She ignored the worried, heavy knocks on the door of first Javier and then the lighter ones, probably from Xoey. Ignoring them all, she sank into the big leather chai
r that had once belonged to her father.
And just cried.
Her nails clawed at the piece of duct tape holding together the biggest rip in the seat’s leather. The chair was so old and worn, she sometimes wondered why she didn’t just get a new one. After all, it was an awful reminder of the worst moment of her dad’s life. And hers. He’d sat in this very chair reading that note from her mom. Dani still remembered the desolate look on his face, the tears that had run without end, the quiet anguished sounds of his heart breaking.
Curling into a ball, she tried to shut herself off from the suffocating pain seeping in.
Until the fierce pounding on the door rattled the walls all around her.
“Dani, open this door!” Luke sounded...furious.
His voice seemed to waver as the seconds ticked away and still she refused to let him in.
“Please, sweetheart,” he said softly, “talk to me. Whatever you think you saw at my shop just plain isn’t.” The heavy sadness she heard made her hand hover over the doorknob.
“Dani, nothing happened that could’ve warranted you doing what you did back there.”
She flung the door open in outrage. “And just what the hell do you think I did to you?!”
He stood there looking as crushingly sad as he sounded, his hands clutching something like it was a Faberge egg. Looking down, she saw cradled in his hands the chocolate she’d left outside his shop after witnessing Luke’s little reunion with his ex-fiancée.
It was almost unrecognizable now, coated with street dust and debris.
