“Or that,” I agreed with a smile.
We stared at each other for a few moments before he spoke.
“So, after this weekend, I—” he began, but I cut him off, wanting to alleviate any of his concerns that I was clingy. Settling down was the last thing on my mind. And while the weekend with him was perfect, I didn’t want to force a relationship, especially one that developed from trying to appease my sisters.
“Let’s just leave it this way, really,” I said. “I feel like we’re just playing pretend, and I’m okay just leaving it at that. I don’t want to force something and wind up in a boring marriage, living a boring life. I want to be able to tell people how we met and had a beautiful time. And how now, we’ll have one of the most amazing stories to tell.”
The words left my mouth before I could process what I was telling him. But for a split second, I found myself terrified ofthe road less traveled. The road I had been running down full speed with my wandering heart seemed like it would crumble at my feet one day at the hands of this man. I didn’t want that. I wanted whatever he and I had to stay just like this: perfect and untouched.
He pressed his lips together, waiting a moment before responding. “Will I ever get to see you again?”
I shrugged, leaning down to kiss him. “Some things we will never know.”
“Promise me one thing,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That even if I call you and you don’t answer, you’ll never forget me.”
thirteen
NOW
“ANNA MCKINLEY.”
I don’t correct him when he uses my maiden name, I smile and say, “What is IsaacMorrisondoing at another McKinley wedding?”
“Brooks,” he corrects, and I laugh, walking toward him. He finishes what he was saying to a staff member, then turns to me, still with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was going to ask the same thing,” I say.
“Well, considering you’re at my winery...” he trails, and my mouth drops.
“Vineyard 1301 is yours?” I ask, and he nods. “What happened to teaching?”
He lets out a small laugh. “I met this girl who told me she didn’t want to force something and wind up living a boring life, so I quit teaching, sold my house, and bought this place ten years ago.” He grins as the memory of my own words hits me.
“Well, teaching is not a boring profession,” I argue.
“Definitely not. But it was exhausting, and I didn’t want to do it anymore. Best decision I ever made.”
I smile. “I’m proud of you.”
“Come here,” he says, pulling me into his arms. I’ve only spent a total of thirty-six hours with him, and I haven’t seen himin twelve years, but he still feels so familiar. His scent filling my lungs, his arms wrapped around me, the cadence of his breath, the sound of his laugh. It was a fever dream I woke up from twelve years ago, yet I can still hear the music we danced to. I can still taste his kiss. By the way, the embrace is lingering a few moments too long, which tells me the memories are flooding his mind, too. I pull back, knowing my estranged but very much legal husband is just inside.
“It’s my niece’s wedding,” I say.
“Wait. Serene Watkins is the daughter of Dr. McKinley-Watkins?” he teases, and I scrunch my nose.
“She’s not as pretentious as she used to be, but I’m shocked you didn’t remember her,” I say.
He runs a hand down his face and laughs. “I apologize for not realizing. My wedding coordinator, Cristina, takes care of all the events. I take care of the wine.”
“Yes, I’ve heard. Both my sisters and niece are quite taken by you and how you designed special labels for the newlyweds. I think that’s really sweet.”
“Thank you,” he says, nodding. He looks out at the field surrounding his tasting room. The sun is setting, music is buzzing from inside, and I have a million things I want to tell him, but I have no idea where to start. “You been good, Anna?”
I’ve held myself together for hours at this point—years, if we’re being honest—but all it takes is the right person asking with the right tone to make the veneer protecting my heart crack.
