Page 94 of The Right Kind of Wrong

“I don’t think anyone would hold it against you that you hadn’t expected to see your ex-husband and his new wife at your family’s event.”

It was crazy that that had been almost a month ago. Blake didn’t even feel like the same person. Sure, when she remembered what had happened, a little flicker of annoyance flared through her, but she didn’t feel the same deep, stomach-churning reaction.

Opening up to Monroe at the drive-in last weekend had been more about Blake accepting that her life wasn’t going to work out the way she’d hoped than had anything to do with Noah. He’d just become a constant lens that, when she held it up, showed her a parallel universe where everything might have been different.

He was still a complete and utter prick, just to be clear, but she didn’t feel the same embarrassment anymore, like she’d been the one to do something wrong.

“When Noah served me with divorce papers, I felt like my whole world was over. I’d been in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for us, and he’d walked in and dropped an envelope on the counter in front of me. Then, he’d just stared at it, like it was my responsibility to figure out what was going on.”

Holland made a sound of aggrieved acknowledgment, but she didn’t interrupt.

Blake kept going, though there wasn’t much left to tell. “I opened up the envelope and looked at the papers. Noah told me, oh so graciously, that he’d give me until the following day to figure out where I’d be going, but that I needed to move out as soon as possible.”

“It was Christmas, after all,” Holland quipped.

Blake laughed, feeling surprisingly light before she uttered words that she had never expected to hear herself say. “Yeah. And lately, I’m wondering if that wasn’t the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Monroe’s arresting blue eyes and Maisie’s resilience and getting her accounting degree and the excited, determined faces of all the kids that she taught flitted through her mind. Hell, even the guys at Gumby’s, whose presence she’d actually started to look forward to on her short drive to the shop every morning, made a brief cameo appearance.

Holland’s smile threatened to overtake her face. “Fuck yeah.” She gently punched Blake in the shoulder. “I’m so glad that you’re getting there.”

And she was. She really was.

Hope and excitement and possibility were powerful. More powerful, even, than anger or sadness.

Life with Noah had been far from perfect. Blake had shrunk herself into someone she hadn’t even recognized. Maybe she’d never even let herself be the person she’d wanted to become for fear that it would disrupt the facade she’d painstakingly created over the last thirteen years.

“I think I’m a lesbian.” The words popped out of her mouth unexpectedly, at the same time that they pulled into Slider’s.

“I was going to say let’s grab coffee,” Holland said, putting her SUV in park. “But I can say that you have all of my attention and that was a better jolt than any rush of caffeine could ever give me.”

Blake reached for the door handle but didn’t pull it. “I just wanted to tell someone. I hope that’s okay?”

Holland felt like a safe person. Not judgmental, even though she was technically Blake’s employer and Cypress Falls was a small town. Blake wasn’t naive enough to believe that everyone, if they became aware, would take the information in stride.

But if Holland had a problem with it, then Blake would find another job.

She was sick of living life on other people’s terms.

It was clear that her perception of Holland had been accurate. She threw her arms around Blake, squeezing her so tightly that she couldn’t take a full breath.

“I am so fucking happy for you, Blake. This town needs more queer women, I can tell you that much. It feels like we’re too rare of a breed in Cypress Falls.

We? Blake leaned back in astonishment. “Oh? I didn’t realize . . .”

Suddenly, she became aware of their proximity. Holland loosened her grip but didn’t let go.

Holland laughed and shot Blake a disarming grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not hitting on you. I’m just really excited.”

Blake couldn’t help the blush that fanned across her cheeks. “I know that,” she said lamely, even though she hadn’t actually known that for a fact.

Even though she was impressed and more than a little intimidated by Holland and could easily recognize that she was an objectively gorgeous woman, she didn’t get the same butterflies that she did when Monroe was around. Holland touching her like this didn’t make Blake wonder how it would feel to lean closer, to shift their bodies slightly, to find more ways to connect.

Finally, Holland released her, easing back onto her side of the car. “It’s rare that anything about this town surprises me, but you, Blake Bettencourt, have accomplished just that.”

“Why did you come back to Cypress Falls, if you don’t mind me asking?” Blake asked. As much sharing as Holland was doing, whatever the reason, it was clear that these details weren’t common knowledge.

Holland gave her a thoughtful look. “That’s a story for another time, if you don’t mind. In its simplest form, Hollywood wanted more than I would give. And even though it’s a much bigger place, it still functions in largely the same way. At least here, I can afford a house,” she finished with a laugh, lightening what Blake felt in her bones was a more serious answer than Holland wanted to acknowledge.