Georgie sighed and tapped her leg, glancing up at the ceiling as if considering my words. I glared at the chipped corner of my fingernail. The blooming guilt in my stomach still hadn’t ebbed. Maybe it didn’t make anything better—maybe I only opened up an old wound and poured salt in.
“Thank you,” she finally replied. It was then that I saw the tears wobbling in her eyes.
Apparently I was quite good at making everyone cry.
“I…” I cleared my throat again and fiddled with my cup. “I’m not sure what to do now.”
Georgie smiled and dabbed her eyes. “This is typically when people hug, but I know you better than that.”
“Does this count?” I patted her knee.
“I’ll take it.”
The bell above the door jingled, and I almost didn’t look up. But then I heard his voice.
“Tell me there’s still something left for the under-caffeinated photographer,” Teddy said, leaning in the doorway, wind-tousled and smirking like he hadn’t been the shoulder I cried into nearly twenty-four hours ago.
My heart fluttered. Itfluttered.
I tore my eyes away and pretended the lid of my coffee was incredibly interesting. The movement, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by my copper-haired, meddlesome best friend.
“No, but I’ll go get you something!” she replied, jumping from the counter with a startling amount of coordination. It seemed scheming made her rather graceful. “You two can hold down the fort, right?” Georgie didn’t wait for us to reply, rushing past Teddy with an elated grin and a wave.
I watched, scowling, as she took her time crossing the street.
“Georgie asked me for some professional photos of her pottery,” he explained, languidly approaching as his gaze flitted across the display tables and half-empty shelves. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” I replied instinctively. Then, I shut my eyes for a second and added, “Better. Thank you.”
Teddy set his camera bag on the counter, the smile having vanished from his face. “I’m here if you want to talk. About… anything. Do you know that?”
I peered at him through my peripheral vision and tapped my fingernails against the tile. “I have Georgie for talking,” I murmured.
“Yeah,” he replied, looking lost.
“That’s good, right?” I said. “You’ll be gone soon on your next big adventure, I’ll be doing… whatever I’m doing. Life will return to normal.” I emptied my cappuccino and leaned back against the register with crossed arms, pretending to watch the passersby like my pulse was completely normal and I couldn’t smell his cologne all around me.
“About that. I—” Teddy paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t completely honest when I came to town.”
That had my attention.
“Ipitched the idea toTravel and Taste.”
I sent him an expectant look. “So?”
“It’s… er— it’s a year-long assignment. Someone would be staying in Bluebell Cove year-round to document all the festivals and traditions.” He wrung his hands together, squinting as if hoping I’d connect the dots.
“Someone beingyou,” I finished.
Teddy nodded.
“Why?”
I fought to keep my expression impassive. Inside, that nasty, hopeful spark began to glow again. The one that had me watching ridiculous rom-coms with Georgie all through high school. The one that kept me wildly, desperately in love with Teddy for most of my life. I’d thought I stamped it out, but there it was, burning and crackling and whispering romantic impossibilities into my ears—further confirmation that the old Margot was alive and well.
We were a stubborn pair.
“Because,” Teddy finally breathed, “I missed it—everything.”
