“There’s a difference between knowing and seeing the realities of it.” I finish off my strudel, more for something to do with my hands than anything else. “I know how it sounds, and even now, I can’t put my thought process into words. Everything was just kind of hazy, you know? It still is, in a way. But it was always my choice to shut Gracie out. I see that now.”
Nick sips his coffee, his brows knitted together. When he lowers the drink, he asks, “Why Paisley? Why not talk to me? Someone at the station? Your parents? Literally anyone buther.” There’s no real accusation in his voice, just bewilderment.
“I don’t know,” I confess. “I honestly don’t know, Nick. She was there, I guess, but that sounds like a cop-out.”
“After Paisley left, you never talked about her. Not about what happened that day, or her never reaching out to you. I figured you moved on, but on Thanksgiving…”
My palms are sweating, and I drop them to my thighs, scrubbing them against my pants. “I don’t harbor any feelings for her,” I say. “When she turned me down, I was embarrassed and hurt—especially when I knew she had feelings for me, too. She never made a secret of that. But Ionly got mad when she iced me out because she promised that shit wouldn’t change between us.”
“You’re saying your ego was bruised?” Nick surmises, and my cheeks heat.
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” I say grudgingly. “But I didn’t harbor feelings for her. What I feel for Gracie…” I shake my head, words failing me. “I haven’t given Paisley a second thought in years, but Thanksgiving…I was shocked, man. I didn’t expect her to be there, and she was acting like the past four years never happened.” I chuckle weakly, eyes sliding away from his. “This makes me feel like even more of an asshole, but?—”
“You liked her paying attention to you,” Nick cuts in. “It soothed the rejection from years ago.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Well, shit. It sounds even worse coming from you.” I huff out an unamused laugh. “I was confused as hell, man, trying to process Allison’s death. And then Paisley was just there, and it felt so easy between us, that friendship slotting back into place, like she’d never left. There was a lot less pressure than with Gracie, you know? I didn’t have anything to lose with Paisley.”
“Except you did.”
“Except I did,” I agree. I sit back, fidgeting with the knife on my empty plate. “I never imagined that my actions would have such far-reaching consequences. Not just to me and Gracie, but our friendship”—I gesture between us—“as well as our families. Mom won’t even consider talking to your mom.”
Nick finishes his coffee, his serious eyes sliding around the bakery, never settling anywhere, but taking everything in. “Mom is acting like Paisley is just misunderstood. That she didn’t do anything wrong.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know whether she actually believes that, or she’s just desperate for Paisley to come home.”
“Do you think Paisley is just misunderstood?” I ask quietly.
Nick’s jaw goes tight. “I think my sister is more aware of her actions than anyone else, even when she pretends she’s not.” He leans forward, saying in a hushed whisper, “She was sleeping with a married man foryears, Braxton. That wasn’t an accident. It was a choice.” I’m not sure what to tell him, but Nick’s talking again, “This case…It seemed easier to bury myself in it and ignore everything else.” He looks at me, his jaw tight. “I’m sorry that my sister fucked with your relationship.”
My smile is sad and strained. “The only person responsible for fucking up my relationship is me.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re talked out, and Nick is back behind his desk while I’m waiting for my truck to warm up before heading down the main street of town. My eyes automatically track toward Blossom Boutique, knowing I won’t see the person I want to, but unable to help myself.
But something’s different today, the world slowing to a crawl, electricity arcing down my spine. My foot eases off the accelerator, staring intently into the glass windows of the florist, catching a glimpse of long honey-brown hair. I blink, and it’s gone, the glare from the sun’s reflection burning my eyes.
I check my mirrors, but there’s no one behind me, so I keep my speed the same, turning back just as the door to the florist opens and she steps out.
I would know her anywhere—thick hair falling over her shoulders, longer than I remember. She’s wearing a black coat and tight jeans. I can only see her profile as she looks over her shoulder into the door, her hand on the handle to keep it open. And then a hand, large and distinctly masculine, lands on the door above her head, pushing it open further. Another hand lands on her back, nudging her forward and out onto the sidewalk.
Gracie.
MyGracie.
My heart surges into my throat, unable to tear my eyes away from her, even when my vision wavers. It’s been over two months since I laid eyes on her, the day I devastated her with my lies, allowing another woman to prove she had some kind of hold on me. Months since I felt like a weight wasn’t pressing down on my chest, threatening to completely crush me.
I beg her silently to turn around, to give me her eyes, a chanting taking up in my head.
Gracie’s here. She’s back. She’s here. She?—
The man steps out of the florist after her, casually looping an arm around Gracie’s shoulders, pulling her into him with a familiarity that kills me. She tilts her head back as he says something to her, and she laughs. I can’t hear her from here, not with my windows up and the heater blasting, but it’s in my head all the same.
A quick glance in my mirror shows a car coming up behind me, and I press my foot down, moving past the couple on the sidewalk. I watch them for as long as I can, but then they’re gone, leaving me blinking furiously, trying to clear the blurriness from my eyes and focus on the road ahead.
Gracie’s back.
Gracie’s back, and she’s not alone.
CHAPTER 26
Gracie
