Page 137 of Just Like Home

What was she doing here? She didn’t deserve any of this.

Did she think she could just waltz in here and steal everything her friend had? Her business? Her friends? Her brother?

Hadn’t she stolen enough from Julianna? Where did she get off grabbing more?

Cole stood beside her now, close enough to touch. His expression was laced with worry and kindness, focused on her in a way that comforted and unnerved her at the same time.

“Do you want to take a walk?” he asked.

She glanced to the half-opened studio door behind him. “The rehearsal . . .”

“Can wait,” he said. “The guys will be fine. They really did do that perfectly.”

She shook her head, wishing she could just as easily shake away this consuming doubt that had curled up inside her. She’d been living in a dream world. Connor had sold this place to someone else. She’d been a horrible friend to his wife—why would he have trusted Charlotte with the dance studio?

And Cole—once he knew the truth, would he ever be able to forgive her? He’d made it clear how he felt about lying.

And a lie by omission was still a lie.

“Tell the guys I’ll see them tomorrow.”

Cole looked at her, confused.

“I think I need to be alone.”

44

Charlotte got in her car and drove away from Julianna’s studio.

She felt like a fraud. Maybe coming here had been a huge mistake. Maybe she was trying to atone for sins that were too old to be forgiven. Maybe she was still trying to steal what was rightfully Julianna’s.

And maybe walking away from the ballet really had been a terrible mistake.

She parked her car behind the barn at Haven House, hoping Hildy and Steve wouldn’t mind that she was there. She got out and walked the path she’d first discovered with Cole on their first date. He was the single best thing that had ever happened to her, but were they fooling themselves to think it could ever work?

Was it foolish to believe she could be happy here? Was it foolish to believe that she and Cole were meant to be together? That their love could withstand mismatched backgrounds and a truth she’d yet to confess?

The article had suggested that Charlotte had something to “get out of her system.” Marcia explained that her daughter had never really explored a world outside of dance. Several people speculated that Charlotte was simply rebelling, and that she would realize, probably soon, that the ballet was where she belonged.

“Ballet isn’t simply what Charlotte does, it’s who she is. This company made her, and I have to believe she’ll be back when she realizes she has nothing without it. I only hope there’s an open door for her when she does.”

Marcia’s words haunted her now. What if her mother was right? What if she woke up one day, full of funnel cakes and cinnamon rolls, and realized she’d made a terrible mistake? What if it was too late?

“I thought that was you.”

Charlotte turned toward Hildy’s voice and saw the woman emerge from the trees into the clearing where she sat on the picnic table.

“Sorry I’m trespassing,” Charlotte said.

“My waterfall is your waterfall.” Hildy sat down next to her. “You look like you’re working something out. This is a good place to do it.”

Charlotte stared out at the water. “Is it that obvious?”

Hildy wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “It is to me.”

Charlotte hesitated a long moment, then finally told Hildy about the article. She pulled it up on her phone and let the woman read it, even though it was humiliating.

“It got under your skin.” Hildy handed the phone back to Charlotte. “Why?”

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