“Thanks for the visit, Vivien,” she said. “And I mean it—if you let go of anything, it should be that battered old bridge.”
Vivien managed to smile and respond politely. But her throat was thick as she walked down the hall, aware of Peter behind her.
At the door, he hesitated, looking down at her like he had a lot to say, but couldn’t.
“I’m glad he’s healing,” she said, knowing it sounded lame but what else could she say?
He nodded. “It’s…crowded here.”
She exhaled, knowing that was all she needed to hear. “Family is good for him,” she said—lame again—fighting the urge to put her arms around Peter and hold tight.
“Yeah. And, look, about the bridge…”
She waved it off. “Silly, I know.”
“No, it isn’t, Viv. I get it. You know, I can look into some files on that demolition. The Sheriff’s Office has to know all about it. Maybe I can find out who’s behind it. There may be a way to slow it down. Probably not but we could try.”
Her heart caught on the use of “we” in the sentence. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know it’s important to you. It was important to all of us, really.”
She looked hard at him, suddenly realizing there was something she didn’t know and wanted to.
“What did you let go of?” she asked, taking a small step toward him. “From the bridge, I mean, when you jumped.”
The tiniest flicker of something serious, even dark, flashed in his eyes, gone before she could truly analyze it.
“Honey, I can’t remember what I had for breakfast let alone some dumb wish I made a hundred years ago.”
She didn’t know what to grab onto in that sentence—a dumb wish? A hundred years ago? Or…honey?
“And yet you’ll fight to save it.”
He smiled and moved imperceptibly closer. “I never said I’d fight to save it.” He put one finger under her chin and lifted her face toward his. “I will fight for you to smile, though.”
Her heart—her entire being—melted. Never in her whole life had she wanted to kiss Peter McCarthy more than that very moment.
Affection welled up in her, taking control of her arms, lifting them like they had a will of their own, and wrapping him in a hug.
“Thank you, Peter,” she whispered, anticipating the first kiss, the familiar taste of him, the pressure of?—
“Oh, good, you’re still here.”
They separated instantly at the sound of Holly’s voice as she came around the corner.
“Yes, I’m?—”
“Connor said I was too harsh about the bridge.”
Vivien blinked, drawing back. “Oh, that’s?—”
“I’m sorry.” She kept coming forward until she was standing next to them. “Pete, maybe you can take me to see it, and I can have different eyes. You can tell me about the past, okay?”
Why did she need to ask that in front of Vivien? What else had Connor told her? That Peter and Vivien used to date? That her ex-husband once said he loved Vivien?
Vivien just smiled. “No need for apologies. It’s just a silly childhood memory.”
With that, she lifted her hand to say goodbye and headed out to her car, more confused than ever about Peter.
