Ethan: No, I’ll come to you.
Maggie: I’m talking to Polly about something. I’ll come see you at The Pancake Bar when she leaves.
She squeezed her eyes closed, hating lying. But she was on the verge of tears.
Ethan: You shouldn’t be alone.
Maggie: I won’t be long. I just need a few minutes.
At least that wasn’t a lie. She needed to pull herself together. To recapture a semblance of okay even though she had no idea how to get it.
She inhaled big, deep breaths.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, maybe seconds, maybe minutes.
Another text came through on her phone.
Ethan: I’m getting worried, Mags. Are you close?
You’re okay, Maggie. They were only words. They can’t hurt you.
When she finally walked across the street to The Pancake Bar,shewas the first person Maggie saw. The woman from eleven years ago. She was touching Ethan’s shoulder as they stood at the counter.
And there they were again. Those words.
Exhausting. Demanding. Expectant of love.
Ethan shota glance at the door. He and his team had ordered, and Maggie should have been there by now. It had taken too long to get out of the community center.
Why hadn’t she wanted to walk here with him? Was something going on with Polly?
He lifted his phone and texted her again.
Ethan: I’m getting worried, Mags. Are you close?
Jay nudged his shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m worried about Maggie. She should be here by now.”
“I’m sure she’s okay.” Jay grinned. “I’m actually excited to meet the infamous Maggie Sinclair. What does she know about me?”
“You don’t want to know the answer to that.”
“You haven’t told her about your smartest friend?” Jay grabbed her chest like she was injured. “Nothing about the woman who saved your ass time and time again?”
“Afraid not.”
“Hm. I guess I’d be hurt if I had a heart.”
Despite everything, he laughed. “You don’t think you have a heart?”
“If I do, its beats are certainly not consistent.”
He chuckled again.
She grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, don’t laugh at my deficiency.”
He shook his head and turned to see Maggie standing by the front door.
