Where are you? I need to see you. Important.
His response is immediate.
At the office until 5. Everything okay?
Will explain in person.
I grab my coat and head to the parking lot, rehearsing variations of my confession during the entire drive. “Connor, I made a terrible mistake in Vegas...” No, too dramatic. “I need to tell you something that happened...” Too vague.
I imagine the hurt, the confusion and the potential anger. Connor rarely gets angry, but when he does, it’s like a glacier.
But what’s the alternative? Live with this guilt forever? Let Dennis hold this power over me?
Connor’s real estate office sits in a renovated Victorian on Main Street, its blue trim freshly painted despite the winter. I park, checking my reflection in the rearview mirror. My braids are still neat, but worry lines crease my forehead.
“You love him,” I whisper to myself. “That’s why you have to tell him.”
As I step out of the car, a memory of Connor holding my hand across a diner table, telling me he’d turned down offers from better hockey teams to stay in Winter Bay, flits through my mind.
“Some things I value more than opportunity,” he’d said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Some people, they are worth changing your plans for, eh?”
I’d known then that what we had was real. Ten years later, I have to believe it’s strong enough to survive this.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself, straightening my shoulders. “Just tell him the truth.”
The receptionist smiles when I enter. “He’s finishing up with a client, but you can wait in his office, Meesha.”
I pace the length of Connor’s office, the confession now clear in my mind: “Connor, something happened in Vegas. It meant nothing, but you deserve to know. I kissed someone. It was a mistake I regretted immediately, and I’m so sorry...”
The door opens behind me, and I spin around, ready to unburden myself.
“Meesha! Ben oui!” Connor’s face lights up. “I was just about to call you.”
Words form on my lips, but before I can speak, a second figure appears in the doorway.
“Connor, I think I left my—”
My blood turns to ice. The room suddenly narrows, edges blurring as if I’m looking through a telescope.
Standing next to Connor is a face I’d hoped never to see again. The same blue-gray eyes, the same sharp jawline, the same mouth that had pressed against mine.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, suddenly bone dry. A high-pitched ringing starts in my ears, drowning out the beginning of Connor’s introduction. I grip the edge of his deskto steady myself, feeling light-headed as the floor seems to tilt beneath me.
“Meesha, this is Dennis Lawson, là, my newest client from Las Vegas.” Connor gestures between us. “Dennis just moved to Winter Bay from Las Vegas. He’s looking for residential property.”
Dennis extends his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t move. My heart hammers against my ribs so violently I’m certain Connor must hear it. My fingers tremble as Dennis takes my hand, holding it a fraction too long.
“Dennis, this is my fiancée, Meesha Williams.”
“Your fiancée,” Dennis repeats, gaze flicking meaningfully to my engagement ring before meeting my eyes again with unmistakable challenge. “How... fortunate to meet you.”
I take an instinctive step backward, bumping into Connor’s desk. The photo of us in Paris topples, and Connor catches it.
“Ça va pas, toi?” Connor steps closer, concern etching his features. “You’re pale.”
I force my facial muscles into what I hope resembles a smile. “Just... tired. Long shift.” The words come out strained.
