“So tell me,” Gabrielle said, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, even though it was just the two of them on the line. “Is Brockton still as handsome as ever?”
“Ugh, yes,” Juliette admitted, and a familiar warmth spread through her. The sensation made her heart flutter. “Perhaps even more so than I remember.”
Male voices flooded down the hall as Brock and Anders came around the corner, and Juliette’s pulse jumped into overdrive at the fear of being caught. Flustered, an outpouring of words tumbled from her mouth. “Well, I’ve got to run, we’re pretty swamped with this beach house remodel. Oh, and Brock wanted me to tell you he said hello, so there’s that. I’ll talk to you later?—”
Gabrielle gasped. “Don’t you dare hang up!”
Juliette grinned. “Okay, I love you, bye.”
She hung up before her sister could pester her with more questions about Brock and their current situation. It was bad enough Gabrielle already knew they were working together, but if she learned that Juliette’s office was actually in hishouse, the interrogation would be relentless.
Brock handed Juliette her purse and coat. “How’s Gabi?”
“Good. Fine.” She sounded so foolish, like she couldn’t even speak properly around him, and a strange expression passed over his face. Like he wasn’t quite sure he believed her. “She’s great, actually. Thanks for asking.”
Juliette pulled her coat on and slung her purse over one shoulder. “I’m sorry, I mean she’s doing really well. She just wanted to make sure I was okay after the whole debacle with my mom.”
“Typical Gabi.” He zipped up his jacket. “You ready to go?”
Then he grinned. And it was the same smile she remembered from so many years ago. At once, Juliette was filled with a wild rush of déjà vu. The memory overwhelmed her. Left her breathless. Brock stood by the door waiting for her, ready totake her hand. They were young. Full of optimistic hopes and passionate dreams and endless possibilities. Their love was fresh and reckless. They’d made so many promises to each other—of all the things they were going to see, all the things they were going to do.
“Hey, are you okay?” Brock came closer and gently cupped her elbow, keeping her steady.
Electricity rippled through her. The current of his touch coursed through her, paralyzed her with a rush of crippling emotion.
“Yeah.” She forced a friendly smile. Her mouth was dry. Her hands were clammy. “Totally.”
They said goodbye to Anders, and Brock drove Juliette back to Mystic Florals. He talked the whole way there, mostly about work for the apartment renovation. He mentioned the claw-foot tub and how it should arrive within the next few days. Already he’d sent two of his guys over to the apartment to install the counters and cabinets in the kitchen. Another step in the project, making it closer to completion.
Juliette was kind of listening, but her mind was a torrent of unbidden memories, and she could still feel the phantom touch of his hand.
“Hey Brock,” she asked suddenly, knowing her swift subject change had absolutely nothing to do with subway tiles. “Do you ever wonder about things that could’ve been? Like how your life would be now if you made different choices?”
Brock pulled into the parking lot of the shop, then turned in his seat to study her. She didn’t look in his direction, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze settle upon her. “Sometimes. But the past is irreplaceable. All we can do is try not to make the same mistake twice.”
She nodded and opened the door, stepping into the cold winter air. Mistakes seemed to be her specialty. This time shedid look at him, at the way the stiff breeze ruffled his auburn hair. The way time seemed to age him so perfectly. “If you could change anything, would you?”
Brock shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and his expression became unreadable. His gaze was focused on the horizon, where the beach stretched out to the endless sea, and for a moment, he looked lost.
“I don’t think so. At least not yet.” He faced her then, and his gaze burned with questions she couldn’t answer. “What about you?”
“No,” she said quickly, and regret filled her. She never should’ve asked such a heavy question. “I suppose not.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. He opened the door to Mystic Florals and the bell above it tinkled, announcing their arrival. “I’m just going to run upstairs to the apartment and see how it’s coming along. I’ll text you later.”
“Sure.” She watched him climb the stairs two at a time, feeling a sense of loss she couldn’t quite place, before he disappeared from view completely.
Left to her own devices, Juliette went in search of Adrienne and Vivianne. She supposed she could do some more research for the beach house, maybe scour her mother’s stash of wedding magazines for ideas. But her mind kept wandering to the darkest parts of her past, sifting through the memories she tried to forget. She’d gone over the details a million times, but none of the pieces ever fit together. She tried to figure out what she’d done wrong, why Brock had left her.
But mostly she wondered what could’ve been, if only he’d answered her letters.
CHAPTER 10
Brock sat at the table and read over his checklist from multiple projects while Yaya hummed to herself and pulled chocolate chip cookies from the oven.
Juliette had gone shopping for the beach house, and all morning she’d been texting him ideas and colorways. White cabinets with jungle-green subway tiles for the kitchen. Rustic hardwood floors and pale, misty blue walls. Accents of deep teal and gold. Black iron fixtures. Each picture came with a paragraph-long message about what she loved and what could be changed, as though she was thinking out loud and talking to herself. She sent images of granite slabs paired with wood samples and bohemian lighting fixtures with her notes scrawled in hot pink ink.
It was a strange thing, letting go of control.
