Page 68 of Autumn on My Mind

There’s a difference.

A distant roll of thunder outside echoes the worry bubbling in my chest. I don’t know why Dominic is reaching out now, but given the time of night and the odd question, something might be going on.

Has Alvina brought Daryl to our house, maybe? I can’t picture Nathan letting that fly, but he could be out. Or what if they’re having a romantic evening somewhere else, laughing and bonding deep down in their souls?

What if they’re making wedding plans?

She could be happy, part of my brain says.

You could be heartbroken, the other part says.

Another boom of thunder echoes, followed by the steady start of rain—gentle at first, then heavier.

And despite my concern, I find my lips curling into a smile. I burrow down into my sleeping bag, listening to the downpour on the roof and relishing the cozy atmosphere.

I’d give anything for a fireplace and a fuzzy blanket.

I pull up Dom’s phone number and then call him to ask what’s going on. We’ll have to smooth out yesterday’s conversation sometime anyway. I’m not particularly excited, but I’ve let things sit all day.

I clutch the phone tighter in my hand. “You’re a strong woman,” I say, even though I don’t feel like a strong woman.

Being on iffy terms with Dominic is not quite like being on iffy terms with anyone else. It’s a bur against my skin.

But although the phone rings and rings and rings, he doesn’t answer. When I hang up and try again, there’s still no response, so I sigh and plug my phone in, pushing it aside and flopping back onto my pillow.

I drift in and out of sleep for a while, lulled by the sound of the rain but troubled by my swirling thoughts. I’m not sure how long I stay in this half-awake state, only that I’m jerked unpleasantly out of it with a jolt.

I sit bolt upright, my heart jumping into my throat as I listen. For a moment I only hear the downpour, but then a sound filters toward me, and I realize what’s happening.

Someone is knocking on the door—pounding on the door. I hear it over the rain, three thuds in quick succession.

I scramble out of my sleeping bag and grab the lantern, hurrying out of the storage room, down the tools aisle, and to the shop entrance.

For a brief second, a long rectangle of light from the street lamp outside streams across the floor; it’s obscured into shadow when a dark, looming figure moves in front of the glass, and I almost scream.

Someone is out there.

“Berkeley.” The call is faint, but relief floods through me when I recognize the voice. I unlock the shop door and fling it open to reveal Dominic, standing on the doorstep and looking like a drowned man back to life.

His chest heaves choppily as he holds his arm over his head like that will calm the storm, and his eyes rove over me, lingering on my tropical pajamas as rain blows into the shop. “Are you living here?”

“I—” I break off, embarrassed to be found homeless by a man I absolutely do not love anymore. “So what if I am?”

Dominic pushes past me and into the store, and I hurry out of his way, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

But he doesn’t answer. He looks at the puddle he’s brought in with him, water dripping all over the place, and then turns to me. “You’re actually living here?”

“I asked if I could use your shed,” I point out, keeping my voice steady. “And you said no.” Then, because I can’t help it, I add, “Very rudely.”

“I didn’t—” He looks bewildered as he goes on, “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Well, I was,” I say. I pause, my brows furrowing. “How did you know I was here?”

Dom’s entire sweatshirt seems to slump, hood and all, as he sighs. “Rosie told me you came by the other day, looking for a place to stay. I checked at your house and you weren’t there⁠—”

“How come you can come to my house unannounced but I can’t go to yours?” I say, indignant.