“I was seventeen the first time.”
“The first time?” Amber’s eyebrows shoot up. “There was more than one time?”
Another sip of wine. A longer one. “I came back when I was twenty-seven. After my divorce. We reconnected.”
“And then?”
“And then I left.”
Thesilence is thick enough to spread on toast.
“So let me make sure I understand,” Michelle says slowly. “You and Levi dated when you were teenagers. Then you came back ten years later, rekindled things, and then you left again?”
“That’s the cliff notes version, yes.”
“And now you’re back again. And he’s back. And you threw coffee on him.”
“The coffee was an accident!”
“Honey.” Grandma Hensley leans forward. “Nobody’s judging. We’re just...curious. Why did you leave? Both times?”
The question lands like a stone in still water.
I stare at my wine, then at the ocean beyond the windows, then at the circle of women who have somehow become my friends in the six months I’ve been here. Women who showed up at my door with casseroles when I first arrived. Who invited me to book club before I’d even finished unpacking. Who make me feel like I belong somewhere for the first time in my adult life.
“I was scared,” I finally say. “The first time, I was seventeen and my mom said things about him—about how he wasn’t going anywhere, how I was wasting my time—and I believed her. So I left.”
“And the second time?” Jo’s voice is gentle.
“The second time I was twenty-seven and freshly divorced and completely broken.” I trace the rim of my glass. “Levi was still here. Still waiting, somehow. And it was so good, and that terrified me. Because I didn’t trust myself not to mess it up. So I left before I could.”
“Before he could leave you first,” Grandma Hensley says quietly.
The words hit me like a gut punch.
“Maybe,” I whisper.
The room is silent for a long moment. Then Hazel reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“To be honest,” she says, “running away is pretty relatable too.”
“Completely,” Amber agrees.
“I’ve run from at least three good things in my life,” Michelle admits. “Four if you count that time I almost didn’t give Grayson a chance.”
“I almost ran from Scott,” Jessica adds. “Multiple times. He’s very persistent when he wants to be.”
“The question isn’t whether you’ve run before.” Grandma Hensley fixes me with a look that sees way too much. “The question is whether you’re going to run again.”
Before I can answer, a small voice drifts down from the top of thestairs:
“I think you should stay, Miss Delilah! Great-Grandma’s right! Mr. Rock Star looks at you like you’re his favorite song!”
“Ellen!” Hazel scolds.
“You said I could come down for the cookie break!”
“It’s not cookie break yet!”
