“Scarlett, look at it from my side,” Cooper said. “I’m trying to take care of you!”
“What part of my life gave you the impression that I needed you to take over? I’ve handled it all so far and I’ll keep going. You think you can just walk in, fix a shelf, kiss me senseless on the Battery, and then tell me we’re moving halfway across the country?”
“I thought you loved me.” Cooper stared at her.
“I do,” Scarlett whispered, unable to lie. “That’s what makes this so much worse. I let myself believe that you loved me too. That you saw me as your partner, not some love-struck student you could mentor into a better life. But our paths don’t line up. Staying here with us means giving up your dream. I don’t want that for you. And I sure don’t want you to stay and grow to resent us because you missed out on a better opportunity.” She loved him enough to let him go.Again. “It’s okay. Cora will love having time with you, her father, wherever your career takes you.”
“I wouldn’t resent you,” he argued, reaching for her hand.
She pulled back, her eyes hard. “Yes, you would. All too soon, you’d look at the walls of the cottage and see the bars of a cage. It’s not fair to let Cora grow up in a house where her father is mourning a life he didn’t get to lead. That’s baggage she doesn’t deserve.”
“Scarlett, please think this through. It was one option, but not the only solution.”
But she couldn’t reconcile his career and life goals with her own. “Take the job, Cooper,” she said, the finality in her voice cold and absolute. “Go to Ohio. Be the professor you are meant to be.”
“And what about you and me?”
“We’ll co-parent Cora to the best of our combined ability.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
She closed her eyes against the tears. “There is nousif your first instinct is to find the bigger, shinier option,” Scarlett said, her heart breaking. Her singular focus was to protect their daughter. If Cooper left now, it would hurt. But if he stayed and grew bitter, or if they all relocated only to discover he didn’t want the responsibility of a ready-made family, it would be so much worse. For all of them.
“You’re breaking up with me because I told you about a job offer?” Cooper asked, disbelief turning his face red. “It doesn’t add up.”
“Is it really breaking up after a singular date?” She refused to factor in the stellar kiss. “We share a child, so we’ll always be connected,” she said. “You need to go.” She walked to the door and opened it, her hand shaking on the knob. “Please leave. I’ll give your number to the family law group.”
“What can I do? Let me fix this.” Cooper waited for a long, agonizing moment. Finally, he walked out without another word.
Scarlett closed the door and leaned her forehead against the wood. She listened to his footsteps fade away, each one a hammer blow against the life she’d almost let herself imagine. She’d never felt so alone in her office, the only sound her pulse thundering in her ears.
Feeling shattered, she returned to her desk and opened the spreadsheet. The numbers were still there. The constants remained. She was Scarlett Evans, single mother, school administrator, fiercely independent. That was her reality. That was her safety net.
But as she stared at the screen, a single tear fell, blurring the data until her whole world and all her hopes dissolved into a series of missed chances and broken promises. She had protected Cora from confusion and heartbreak, but she had never felt more like a failure.
CHAPTER 10
The Pelican Pub was louder tonight than it had been on Cooper’s previous visit. An eager, restless energy vibrated through the worn floorboards. He stood in the back, shadowed by a support beam, a glass of untouched lager sweating in his hand. He felt like a ghost haunting his own life. Since the blow-up in Scarlett’s office, he had spent three days alternately staring at the changing marsh and the Ohio contract, the terms appearing colder and more clinical with every passing hour.
He had approached the situation like he did everything else: as an analytical mathematician. Numbers had always been his strength and his comfort. He’d seen the offer as an opportunity to solve Scarlett’s stagnant career. On some level, he felt he owed her that much for keeping their baby and raising her. Clearly, she disagreed. And standing here in the crowded pub, his mistakes were painfully obvious. Providership and partnership weren’t the only variables that made a life beautiful. And he sure as hell didn’t need to fix a woman who was whole.
Hurting her had been awful and he wished he could hit rewind for a do-over. But he hadn’t given up. He dug in, did hishomework, and tonight he had what might be his last chance. He couldn’t blow it.
“And now,” Reed announced, adjusting the mic, “we have a special treat. One of our youngest local talents, Jamie Thorne, performing a piece he’s been working on with his teacher.”
Cooper straightened. He remembered Jamie from Scarlett’s cottage—the boy with the thumb that liked to peek over the neck like a spy. Jamie stepped onto the stage, looking small and terrified behind a three-quarter-size acoustic guitar. But when Scarlett joined him, his shoulders relaxed. When they were settled, Cooper caught the slight movement as Scarlett leaned over and whispered encouragement. Jamie grinned, his gaze dropping to the guitar as if he didn’t want to see the crowd.
The love and pride radiating from her were so palpable that Cooper felt a sharp, agonizing pang of regret. He had accused her of settling for a safe life. He’d never been more wrong.
As Jamie began to play—a crisp, rhythmic folk melody—Cooper watched the truth unfold. Scarlett hadn’t just built a life; she had built a legacy. She was teaching children to find their voices, to take up space, to understand the harmony in the chaos. She wasn’t a footnote in Brookwell’s history; she was the rhythm section.
Scarlett joined in and the duet hooked the crowd. Every face was on them.
Jamie finished with a flourish, his face splitting into a wide grin as the pub erupted in applause. He leaped off the stool and gave Scarlett a high five and a fierce hug before he dashed off to celebrate with his parents.
Scarlett watched him from the stage for a moment, covertly knuckling away a stray tear. She looked lonely, even in the middle of a celebration. Shifting, she adjusted her guitar strap over her shoulder and glanced toward the exit, as if she would rather be anywhere else.
Cooper was moving through the crowd, winding his way to the stage. He knew when Scarlett spotted him because she aimed a laser-hot scowl his way.
