Chapter One
Ava
This is my absolute favorite time of day.
It’s six forty-five. The sun isn’t even up on this chilly January morning, and there is already a line at the counter. Friends and neighbors are waiting patiently on their orders. Some are chatting with each other. Others look like they’re barely awake yet. All of them are familiar in one way or another as everyone seems to know everyone else in this small town.
I inhale deeply as the rich smell of roasted coffee beans mixed with hints of caramel, nuts, and chocolate assaults my nostrils. It’s comforting. It’s calming. It’s home.
I fit the last of the four cups in Carter Cruz’s order into the cardboard cup carrier just as he comes through the front door. He picks up the same standing order every day for himself and his three siblings. I motion for him to come around to the end of the counter.
No money is exchanged. He has a card on file. We’ve done this same dance for several years—ever since the four of them went in together and bought the autobody shop around the corner. Not to mention he’s Trevor’s best friend, so he does tend to get special treatment.
His smile is wide as he takes off his gloves, plucks his cup from the tray and sips, eyes closed as the hot coffee warms his cold body.
“Damn, I needed that.” He secures the cup back in place. “It must be ten degrees out there.”
“Good for business,” I say, nodding to the line.
“I’ll bet it is. Hey, when you talk to Trev, tell him I finally located that hard-to-find part for the Charger. He’s gonna be stoked. We’ve been searching for it for nearly a year.”
Nowmysmile is a mile wide. “Tell him yourself,” I practically sing. “He’ll be home in twenty-four days.”
“Wow.” His head shakes from side to side. “It’s kind of hard to believe that after all these years, you’re down to counting days. What do you think it will be like when he’s back?”
My eyes close briefly at the thought. “Heaven.”
He holds up the carton of drinks. “Thanks, Ava. See you tomorrow.”
“You sure will. Have a great day.”
“You too.”
I don’t even get mad when my newest hire, Chelsea, drops two full lattes on the floor, splattering hot liquid all over my shoes. I don’t get upset because I feel like I’ve been walking on air for a week, ever since the countdown went from months to days. Nothing can dampen my mood lately. Not Leah calling in sick on a busy day. Or the supply delivery being delayed. Or even my CPA telling me we’ll owe more taxes than anticipated for last year.
Nothing. Because… twenty-four days.
I dance my way through the morning rush, my mind reeling as I think about how my life is about to change. We’ve spent so much time apart as Trevor fulfilled his commitment overseas. The letters. The emails. The occasional phone calls I anticipated as eagerly as a kid on Christmas morning. The twice-yearly-ishtimes I lived for when we’d actually be face-to-face for a few weeks.
Our lives will finally be normal. We’ll live together. Sleep together. Eat dinner together. Make love under our tree—the one we made ours when we were sixteen and lost our virginity together. The tree I visit every time I need to feel close to him.
He’ll kiss me as I roll out of bed at five in the morning. Every. Freaking. Day.
He’ll sleep a little longer, then get up and walk the four blocks to the hospital where he’s been offered a prized cardiothoracic surgery fellowship—something he’s dreamed of. The timing of it, how the specialty he wants had an opening at the exact time he’d be returning, is surreal. Like it was always meant to be.
Just like we were.
“Uh… Ava?”
I turn to Jason, my assistant manager, to see his face has gone ashen. He looks from me to the front door. When my eyes follow his gaze, my whole world implodes in the span of one millisecond. Everything goes silent. The shop. My head. The beating of my heart. There’s just… nothing.
I lose my grip on the coffee mug in my hands. It crashes to the floor, the noise exploding in my head, ending the deafening silence. The sound of shattered ceramic echoes through every vessel in my body, leading me to feel like I’m drowning in the relentless pounding of my pulse in my ears.
Doubling over, my hands brace on my knees. I feel myself begin to hyperventilate as everyone in my coffee shop is now staring at me.
Because just like I do, they all know there is only one reason two uniformed military personnel would show up at my front door.
Sound ceases to exist. Conversations come to a halt. The cappuccino machine is eerily quiet. Breaths are collectively held.The only noise right now is that of my ears ringing. Well, that and the heavy footsteps of the soldiers drawing near so they can completely and utterly destroy me.
