Brielle sets her fork down and looks up at me as she finishes her bite. “This was delicious. I wish I had the ability to cook like this.”
I throw my napkin to the side. “You’re fine. Connor loves your mashed potatoes.”
She laughs to herself. “Not exactly earth-shattering to make.”
“I don’t know. You have to get the ratio of butter and milk right or it doesn’t have the right consistency. Or at least that is what Connor tells me when I attempt to make them.”
There it is. Sentimental fondness gracing her face.
“I love him so much,” she reflects as she takes her wine glass in her hand. Leaning back in the chair, she looks out over the lake which is nearly dark since the sun disappeared over the pines on the horizon. “You won’t let him skate on the lake when it freezes, right?”
“Of course not. I’ll take him to a pond nearby or the training facility. Where’s that coming from?”
“Nothing. It’s just a beautiful lake, and for some reason, I thought about winter and how the lake freezes sometimes, plus you play hockey, Connor loves hockey. My mind spins a little.”
“Ah yes, mom instinct.”
She throws me a playful glare. “It’s a superpower.”
“I have a few superpowers too.”
Brielle folds her arms onto the table. “Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Restraint, endurance, and pleasure,” I confidently inform her before throwing back a sip of wine.
I notice she blows out a small breath between her lips and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, but her smile never wavers. “I’m sure.”
Our eyes hold, with the light of the candles offering a dim reflection. “There is too much distance between us,” I inform her.
“You mean the table?” She points down to double-check.
“Yeah.”
Her fingers trace the top of her wine glass. “I might consider finding a new seat if you tell me the truth about something.”
My ears perk up, as I’m not entirely sure what’s on her mind. “What would that be?”
“Why did it have to be Lake Spark where you set your roots down?”
I shrug my shoulder. “It’s a great little town, a perfect spot to build a house, great for winter and summer… and it reminds me of you.”
Her eyes flick up. “You decided to build a house here already a few years ago.”
“Exactly,” I confess. “Remembering our time together kept me going. Just like a compass, you always go back to the starting point.” Her cheeks tighten, and she seems to have gone mute from my revelation. “I think deep down you figured it out too, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me just now.”
The lids of her eyes close for a few beats as she collects her thoughts. When her eyes open, I see it all. I know she is affected, because water swells in the bottom of her eyes, but mostly I recognize the agreement hinted in her look.
“Now tell me the truth.” It’s my turn.
“What?”
“If I didn’t make this week happen, would you have ever told me the truth about how you feel?”
Brielle stands up and takes a few steps to look out over the lake. “Truthfully? I don’t know. I got little pieces of you, and sometimes I thought that would be enough to keep me from falling apart.”
“Little pieces?” I ask as I grab the bottle to pour us more wine.
“You know, seeing you at pick-ups and a few moments that we just… I don’t know.” She glances back at me. “Like a few months ago when Connor had the flu, and we agreed it wasn’t a good idea for him to go to your house, so you came over to see him and then…”
