I pretended to fuss over the shelf, but my ears burned. “I just—I can’t believe I miss him this much. It wasn’t even that long. We barely had time to know each other.”
Doris snorted. “You’re smarter than that, hon. Time doesn’t mean a thing when it’s right. A single minute can be enough to change your whole life.”
I rolled a sprinkle jar between my palms, watching the glimmer through the plastic. “He said it was a vacation thing. A way to forget the real world.”
She leaned forward, her voice softening. “And what do you think it was?”
“The first time I ever wanted to stay.”
Doris watched me, nodding with a kind of pride thatonly comes from seeing someone finally get their head out of their own ass. “Maybe you should tell him that.”
I shook my head. “What if he doesn’t want to hear it?”
“Then he’s not the man you need,” Doris said simply. “And you’re better off without him. But you told me he’s texted you a few times. Maybe he’s thinking the same thing about you right now.”
I let her words sink in, the truth of them settling in my chest like a new kind of ache. Shaking my head, I wiped the counter with a clean rag.
Ten minutes later, the door opened, and my world narrowed to a single point of contact.
Dean stood just inside the threshold, suitcase in hand, his shirt rumpled and his hair wilder than I’d ever seen it. But his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my stomach turn inside out. For a second, I forgot to breathe.
Doris, sharp as ever, glanced between us, then slid off her stool and scurried to the back room.
Dean stepped forward, his jaw set and his gaze unblinking. I had no idea if I wanted to scream at him or wrap myself around him.
Probably both.
He looked like hell. Not in a post-breakup, can’t-be-bothered sense, but like a man who’d been wrestling with himself for a month and finally surrendered. His eyes were bloodshot and wild, shirt untucked, duffel dangling from one hand. He strode forward and didn’t stop until he was right in front of me, separated only by the glass display.
A buzzing sensation started in the soles of my feet and traveled up my legs, making the floor feel like it was vibrating. A full-body tremor rattled through me, equal parts stupefaction and a wild, impossible jolt of hope. I gripped the edge of the counter. “Dean… what?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and raw. “I know that’s not enough, but it’s where I have to start. I was a complete idiot. A coward, like you said.” He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture ragged. “Your last text hit me like a knife in my gut, and you were right to send it. That’s why I’m here. I’m done with texts. I had to see you, to tell you in person that I’ve missed you every single second since I walked out of that room.”
I tried to find my anger, the sharp edge I’d been saving for this moment, but his words were like water on a flame, extinguishing it. All that was left was the raw, aching hurt. “You came all this way to tell me that?”
He smiled, lopsided, full of regret and hope in equal measure. Real. “I came here because I love you. I don’t care if we were only together a few days. I realized I’d rather get it wrong a hundred times with you than pretend to get it right with anyone else.”
All the oxygen left the room. Somewhere in back, Doris let out a sound that was definitely a sniff and maybe not a sob.
Did he just tell me he loves me?
My words tumbled out, like the last Jenga piece giving way. “I missed you. Every day, I missed you, and it was awful, and I hated myself for it, but—” My throat closed up, and I had to stop before I started ugly-crying in front of the freezer. I whipped my head back and forth. “You really hurt me.”
He took a step closer and braced his hands on the counter. “Then let me fix it. Let me earn your forgiveness. By being here now. I will do whatever it takes.”
I lifted my chin, a wall of self-preservation rising. “Dean, I can’t. How do I know you won’t take off again?”
“Because I’ve realized bolting out of that hotelroom was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. And I won’t let it happen again. You were right. I panicked because I realized I was falling for you, and I couldn’t handle it. But that’s over now.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and slid it across the counter. It was open to a local real estate website, a listing for a storefront for sale on Main Street. I’d walked by it several times and admired the location.
“I’ve been looking at these listings ever since I left. Bookmarking every new one that came up. I’ve been picturing my own financial planning shingle hanging on Main Street, right under one of those ornate lampposts with the flower baskets I used to think were so stupid. But they’re not. I was stupid.”
My lungs were about to burst, and I slowly exhaled a month of misery. A fresh breath of hope took its place.
“I spent the last three years building a life I thought I wanted,” he continued, his eyes laser-focused on mine. “The high-rise, the title, the six-figure salary… it was all a reaction to being hurt. It was a shield. But in those few days with you, I felt more real than I ever have in my life. And it scared me so badly that I panicked. I ran.”
I could read the truth of his words in his eyes, in the exhausted lines around his mouth. New warmth filled my chest. I nodded at him as I wrapped my arms around myself, holding on. “Go on.”
