by Olivia Miles
But now, well, now all that reason was replaced with something a heck of a lot more confusing.
“You gone for the night then?” Ryan was no doubt concerned about handling a full bar of customers on his own.
Kyle raised an eyebrow, unable to let this opportunity slide. “Here I thought you knew everything there was to know about running this place.”
Ryan’s jaw set but he said nothing as he pushed past Kyle into the pub, where already the Friday afternoon crowd had gathered, and Kyle wasted no time in slipping out the front door and onto Main Street, brightly lit by the warm sun, a stark contrast to the darkness of the bar. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, to take in the flowerpots flanking doors and the couples walking hand in hand on the sidewalks or sitting on the wrought-iron benches.
He didn’t recognize half the faces, which meant tourism season had started, even if it didn’t officially kick off until Memorial Day weekend, which was still weeks away. Either way, change was in the air.
And maybe, for once, he was ready for it.
He half expected Brooke not to show up tonight, and when he reached the ice cream shop and pulled open the door, he was surprised to see her sitting at a corner table, a little smile on her pretty mouth as she met his eye. She fluttered her fingers in a wave, and he pulled in a breath, realizing that he’d forgotten that simple gesture, or maybe, blocked it out. But now, seeing her so casually waving to him as she had all those other times, he was right back there. To this same town. Same storefront.
For a moment, he almost forgot they weren’t married anymore.
He resisted the urge to reach down and greet her with a hug or a kiss or some sort of affection. Instead, he approached the table and grinned, while she blinked up at him pleasantly, if, he realized with a heaviness in his chest, maybe with a bit of impatience.
She didn’t want to be here.
And that was all the more reason to see this through. It was his only chance to nail her down, talk things out in a way they never had before.
It was his last chance.
“It’s filling up quickly,” Brooke said, motioning to the room. “I thought I’d get us a table.”
“You picked a good one,” he said, omitting the fact that it was their usual table, back when they used to come here together. Had she chosen it on purpose?
From the controlled flatness of her expression, he doubted it.
“I’ll get our orders,” he said.
“Raspberry—”
He smiled broader. “I remember.”
He remembered everything: the brand of shampoo she used and the way it smelled, leaving a scent on her pillow that he never wanted to wash away; the sound of her laugh when she talked with her sisters, the way her arms felt when she slid them around his waist and pulled him close. And that was just the problem. Early on, in the months after she’d first left, he still stiffened every time the door to the pub opened, expecting to see her walking through, her blue eyes gleaming, her smile radiant, waiting for her to plant a kiss on his mouth before excitedly telling him about an apartment she found in her internet search or a spot in New York they’d have to try once they got there. They’d talk about it every evening, too, sitting side by side on the chairs he’d carved, looking out over the lake, dreaming of the life they’d have together.
But there was no New York, not for him. And she never did walk through the door again. Or plant a kiss on his mouth. So why was it that he could still feel it like it was yesterday?
He placed the order, hoping that Brooke was in a better mood when he returned to the table. He didn’t like the strain, not then, not now. It wasn’t how it was ever supposed to turn out for them.
Five minutes later, he returned to the table, just in time to catch a woman’s eye as she grabbed some extra napkins from the service station near the back wall. He realized with an internal groan that it was Jackie Walker, easily the chattiest classmate from first through twelfth grade.
“Brooke!” Her eyes popped in surprise. “Brooke Conway? I thought that was you!”
Brooke stood up and greeted Jackie with equal warmness, leaning in for a hug before resuming her seat. It didn’t go unnoticed by Kyle that Brooke hadn’t given him the same warm greeting. Not even given a handshake, even though that would have been…weird. But then, everything about this was weird. He was sitting across the table from his wife. His wife! And he didn’t know anything about the last six years of her life at all.
“I’m only in town for the weekend,” Jackie went on. “Thought I’d finally show my kids where I grew up. My goodness, since my parents moved away, I haven’t been back!”
Evidently, Jackie was out of the loop since moving away. She had no idea that Brooke herself had just returned.
“Oh! It’s so good to see the two of you. When was that wedding again?”
“Six years ago this June,” Kyle stated.
“Six years! Of course, right before my parents moved. Most couples don’t make it that far nowadays.” Jackie clucked. “But then, you two were a perfect match. Cute as buttons. Pretty as a picture. And Brooke was the most beautiful bride.”
“She certainly was,” Kyle agreed.
He saw Brooke firm her mouth. Clearly, she wasn’t finding any of this half as amusing as he was.
“Any kids?” Jackie asked. She blinked at them, expecting an answer.
Kyle coughed, only entertaining a moment of panic that while he didn’t have children, it was possible that…but no. No, surely he would have heard word about Steve and Miriam Conway having a grandchild.
He needed to get a grip. He may not have been face to face with Brooke for almost six years, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know her. He did know her. He knew every inch of her. He knew her dreams, her goals, and her biggest secret.
And he knew her heart. After all, he’d had it once.
“No kids!” Kyle grinned broadly, playing along. “Yet.”
He felt Brooke’s kick under the table. Her eyes glimmered against her frozen smile.
“Just…focused on our careers,” she said tightly.
Careers. The word felt sour to his ears, and he licked his cone, hoping that Jackie would get the hint. Fortunately, a tow-headed boy with an ice cream stain down the front of his striped shirt called out impatiently from the doorway before closing it again.
Jackie gave an apologetic shrug and said, “Duty calls. Better run before they get into trouble! It was so good seeing the two of you again!”
“Why did you entertain her?” Brooke accused the moment Jackie was out of earshot.
Kyle shrugged. He was still staving off a grin as he bit into his cone. “What would you rather me have said? That my blushing bride bolted the moment things got rough? Or that this is our first night out as a married couple since a couple of months after our wedding day?”
“You’re making it out to sound like it’s all my fault,” Brooke said.
“Isn’t it?” He pulled in a breath, told himself to get a hold of his emotions. This wasn’t what tonight was supposed to be about. It was supposed to be a chance for the two of them to catch up, even reconnect a little. It wasn’t supposed to end in an argument.
“Well, it seems like we’ve had no problem sliding right back into the place where we last left off,” Brooke said wryly, but there was hurt in her eyes that matched the heaviness in his chest. She poked at her ice cream with her spoon, and Kyle watched as the color rose in her cheeks. He’d upset her. And that wasn’t his intention.
Truth be told, he didn’t know what his intention was. Or why he’d thought this was a good idea. He only knew that signing some papers, now, when she’d only just returned, was a worse one.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested, nudging his chin toward the door.
Brooke shook her head. “Uh-uh. You asked me to meet you for ice cream, and here I am.” She took a huge bite, causing her cheeks to bulge.
He narrowed his eyes. “Is this one of those ice-cream e
ating contests that they sometimes have at the local festivals?” he asked with a little laugh, but then it hit him. She was trying to speed things up. To get away. Again.
And that hurt. More than it probably should.
*
Eventually, Kyle managed to convince her to take a walk. Or rather, circumstances convinced her, when Chrissy Roberts walked into the parlor, and Brooke very much doubted that in the time she’d been away Chrissy had changed her ways. She’d always been a gossip, ever since she was editor of the school newspaper and added a “happenings” column to the front page. There was no telling what she’d have to say if she spotted Brooke and Kyle sitting at the corner table, enjoying an ice cream on a warm Friday evening. Probably more than Jackie had said, that was a given.
Really, what had she expected? She was back in Blue Harbor, and even though she and Kyle were long over, here at least, they would always be connected.
They managed to slip away unnoticed, or so Brooke hoped. Still, it took some dodging and hiding behind some of the taller members of the community who were waiting in line, studying the menu on the board, unaware that they were being used as human shields.
Both Brooke and Kyle were laughing by the time they hit the sidewalk. The release of nervous energy felt good.
“The last thing I needed was another round of interrogation,” Brooke said, shaking her head.
“You mean you don’t like everyone knowing if you have kids and why you don’t, and if you’re going to get married again, or if you’re still married?” Kyle’s grin was wry and against her better judgment, she felt a kinship with him.
“Some things never change,” Brooke said.
“No, some things don’t.” Kyle was giving her a funny look, and she wished she could polish off the ice cream, but Kyle had bought the largest size and she was already getting full, and besides, she still hadn’t gotten to the point of the night. At least, not her point of it.
“Some things do, though,” she said airily, trying to look the other way. They were heading down Main Street now, toward the town square, and she wasn’t sure whether she hoped to see one of her friends or family members or be spared. What was worse? Explaining what was going on when she didn’t even know herself and couldn’t exactly admit the truth, or being alone with Kyle again?
She didn’t like being alone with him. Didn’t like the way her stomach pulled when she met his eye. The way her heart tugged when she caught his grin.
That it felt good to share a laugh. That maybe that wasn’t all that felt good.
“I mean, I’m not the same person I was six years ago,” she said firmly. Time had passed. They’d moved on. At least she had.
Whereas Kyle…He was exactly where he’d always been.
“In what ways?” he asked as they neared a bench and sat down. It was the same bench they’d always sat on when they came to this park, and she told herself that it was because it was the only one currently unoccupied. Strange coincidence, nothing more. Just life reminding her of a different time. A different path, perhaps.
“Well, I’ve learned that I can do things on my own.” When she caught the injury in his eyes, she added, “Without my family helping me. I mean, I appreciate their help, and I’m happy to be back here with them, but it was important for me to learn to stand on my own.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Enough to open your own successful business.”
“We’ll see about that.” She stirred her melting ice cream, hating the doubt that had crept into her voice. She was excited about her shop, about the prospect of full creative control, but she still couldn’t shake her final experience in New York.
She forced a smile as she scooped more ice cream into her mouth. As expected, Kyle was frowning a little. She didn’t need him of all people to see her waver.
“Once the loan comes through I’ll really be able to do what I want with the business,” she said firmly, getting back on track. She thought of her business plan, her checklist. If she could stick to it, she’d be okay. She’d be safe.
“And what is that exactly?”
She supposed there was no secret to hold onto, and she was happy to keep the topic neutral. “Fabric is expensive, especially for wedding gowns, and a lot of material is usually used. Then there are the bridal shows I’d like to be a part of, and advertising isn’t free either. I’ll need to hire an assistant if I ever want to take a day off without closing the store.”
He gave a little smile. “You always dreamed big.”
“Is there any other way?” She held his gaze for a moment, feeling her stomach flutter, and then looked away. She realized that her hands were shaking.
“Those are big plans, but it sounds like you know what you want.” He nodded slowly. “It would be a large loan, I assume.”
“One that would be difficult to qualify for given your position,” she said delicately. She hated talking about that pub. She knew why he’d felt the need to hold onto it, but she didn’t understand why he didn’t feel the same need to hold onto her, too. “Restaurants are risky,” she added quickly. Surely he knew that.
He raised his eyebrows, saying nothing.
She looked back at her ice cream, sadness pulling at her chest for the situations that had brought them to this point. Two strangers with a shared past, sitting on a bench, eating ice cream, thinking about all that might have been.
Jackie’s comments had stung, of course. Kids. Would they have had kids if she’d stayed behind? When they’d talked about starting a family, it felt far off and distant. Something they would have done once they were more settled in their careers. After they’d done what they’d set out to do in the big city.
A time like now, she realized.
Brooke felt her stomach knot and she force-fed herself more ice cream, trying to push away the thought. There was no use in playing out different scenarios. Their decisions had been made.
There was no use in being here at all.
She polished off her last scoop, even though she felt almost sick from the sugar. “Well, this was…” She couldn’t say it was nice. She really couldn’t say what it was. She just knew that it was confusing and that she wanted to leave, to go home, and not think about Kyle for a while. It had been so much easier in New York.
“Next time I’ll have to choose something a little farther out of the center of town and away from prying eyes,” Kyle said, and she felt her stomach drop.
“Next time?” She squared him with a look. A hard one.
He rose slowly. “You promised me six. That was the deal.”
“Kyle.” She was pleading. She couldn’t even believe that he’d want to get together again when this was so awkward, so…difficult.
“Six. This was one.” There was enough authority in his tone to remind her who had the upper hand.
Her heart was torn between confusion, anger, and compassion. “Why are you doing this, Kyle?” she asked softly. “We both know that we’re not right for each other. Would you really refuse to sign the papers if I had them drawn up?”
His expression was unreadable. Finally, he said, “Maybe.”
She stared at him. Would he contest the divorce? And for what reason?
Punishment, she realized. For going to New York without him.
“So this is payback. I knew it. For me leaving you.” She shook her head, feeling all those old frustrations come running back at full speed.
“So you admit that you left me,” he said, rolling back on his heels, his look appraising. “I’ve been wondering why you seem so mad at me when I’m not the one who ended things.”
“You ended everything, Kyle!”
He lifted an eyebrow as if he was curious by her rendition of the story.
She sputtered on her words, blinking quickly, trying to form a coherent defense. Did he not see his part in any of this?
“We had plans,” she finally said.
“We had vows,” he countered, silencing her. Finally, he dropped his shoulders and said,
“Looks like we’ll have plenty to discuss at our next date.”
“Meet-up,” she corrected.
“Whatever you want to call it,” he said with a friendly shrug that was downright infuriating. “But you agree? You’ll come?”
“Fine,” she huffed. Because just like last time, he hadn’t left her any other choice.
7
Bella’s Books was tucked on Main Street behind a blossoming tree whose petals were covering the wrought-iron bench below. Just the sight of it made Brooke smile, and she made a mental note to think about ways to incorporate those delicate flowers into a gown for next spring—something cascading and youthful, perfect for a younger client.
Something her old boss would have had another word for: trite. Overdone. Or already done. Or too ambitious. That was the one that always stung the most. Too ambitious. Perhaps because it hit the deepest wound, that she cared too much. Enough to leave her town. Her husband. That she didn’t have what it took. That she was trying too hard and didn’t belong.
Well, now she was right where she belonged, wasn’t she? She was a small-town girl at heart and this was still her home. And the new client from Pine Falls wouldn’t be asking about doing her bridesmaid gowns if she didn’t think Brooke had what it took.
For a moment, Brooke felt better. And with that thought tucked away, she vowed not to think about work anymore tonight—or Kyle, who was forever creeping up into the forefront of her mind, especially since last night. It was book club, and she had promised to attend, even if she hadn’t read the novel. She knew these clubs were often an excuse for the women in town to gather, though some would take it more seriously, like her sister Gabby. It was exactly what she needed—a night with her sisters and cousins and old friends and neighbors that she hadn’t yet bumped into on her quick errands around town.
Brooke transferred the wine bottle she’d purchased on the way over into her tote and opened the door, immediately greeted by the buzz of laughter and conversation, and the smells of fresh baked goods.
She breathed a sigh of relief. This was one thing she’d never found in New York and never could. Family, friends, a community.
