I scoffed. “I see nothing’s changed. Gossip here still travels faster than the internet.”
“You’re right,” he said. “And you’re still not welcome. Leave.”
Anger surged through me.
“Who are you to tell me where I can go?” I shot back. “You don’t own this town.”
He stepped closer. “You’re wrong. I do.”
“No, you don’t,” I said, backing up despite myself.
“I’ve overseen the development of this town for years,” he continued. “I may not be mayor, but I hold the power.”
“Arrogant,” I said bitterly. “You’ve turned into your father.”
That hit him.
“Fuck you, Bailey.”
Before I could respond, the door opened again.
“Ash, baby, we’re going to be late—”
The woman in the black dress stopped short.
Lynda.
Her hair was blonde now. Perfect. Her face was heavily made up, polished to perfection. She clung to Ashton like she was afraid to lose him.
“Bailey…?” she whispered.
“Hi, Lynda,” I said flatly. “So, you two ended up together.”
Her face drained of color.
“Anyone want some pie?” Eva appeared cheerfully with a tray, breaking the tension.
That was my cue.
“I’m leaving,” I said quietly.
And this time, I did not look back. They could both go to hell for all I care.
Chapter 3
The rental cottage by the lake was beautiful. Quiet. Simple. Calm.
At least one thing had gone right that day.
I took a slow walk through the space, even though there was not much to explore. A few pieces of furniture. A cozy country style kitchen. A narrow bed tucked neatly against the wall. Everything was clean and untouched, as if it had been waiting for someone like me.
It had been an exhausting day. Hours of driving. Running into my ex and my former best friend at the same time. Nothing about that had been part of my plan.
I tried to make sense of it all. How had Ashton and Lynda ended up together? It did not fit. They had never been close. Lynda had openly said she hated him, mostly because he was born rich. She always kept her distance whenever he was around me.
Had I missed something back then?
I dropped my backpack onto the bed and pulled my phone from my pocket. Several messages from Sissy lit up the screen, each one checking if I had arrived safely, reminding me not to worry about Tristan. A soft smile tugged at my lips. Thinking of the people who loved me steadied something inside my chest.
