Page 5 of Sunny Skies Ahead

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Connor stated, “Certain secrets are not meant for sharing.”

I took a seat next to him on the couch opposite Lucas and rolled my eyes.

“There was plenty of cursing. Connor and I didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day. Trust me, you didn’t miss much.”

Lucas downed the rest of his water bottle before turning his attention back to Connor, lifting the empty bottle in a mock toast. “How are you feeling about moving back to Watford, big guy?”

Connor shrugged. “It feels right, for now at least. Abbie and I have been talking about selling the condo and buying ahouse somewhere between Winding Road and Watford. Since Kevin’s doing a trial run with store management, Abbie wants to be close in case he needs something.”

“How’s Abbie’s father?”

“Malcolm’s doing alright,” Connor said with a shrug. “Some days are easier than others. Right now, he’s struggling to find an outlet that works for him. Woodworking is too triggering for him right now, because it reminds him of Abbie's mom. He hasn’t taken a liking to anything else he’s tried, but I’m confident he’ll find something.”

Malcolm had struggled deeply with his alcoholism the last few years, and had just finished an intense in-person recovery program at a holistic health center off the Oregon coast. I’d helped him get connected with resources to maintain his sobriety, even though we primarily worked with veterans and first responders at Winding Road. I couldn’t help but want to keep tabs on his progress, especially after the events of last autumn, where Malcolm was in a serious car accident after a particularly bad bender. He and Abbie’s relationship was mending, but it was a slow-going process, for obvious reasons. You couldn’t simply flip a switch and undo years of neglect and abuse.

“It’s going to be weird not having you around here, man,” Lucas said. “How will I possibly get my day started without you glaring at me over your coffee cup when I’m coming back from my morning run?”

“It’s not like I’ll never see you again.” Connor leaned back against the couch. “I’ll still be here after the wedding.”

“I figured you’d want to work remotely,” I said.

“For the first week after my honeymoon, I’d like that,” Connor said, and Lucas gagged. Connor glared at him. “But I’ll be here when the next cohort starts. There are some things you can’t do from behind a computer screen.”

“True,” I replied. “That means a lot, dude. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Connor said.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a married man in just a few short weeks,” I said, shaking my head slightly.

“Me neither,” Connor said, a slow grin forming. “But there’s no one else I’d rather be walking down the aisle to.”

My heart twisted painfully in my chest, and I shoved all thoughts of that aside.

Deep down, I could admit I was jealous of what they’d found in each other.

I’d seen what love could do to people—how it could destroy them in the end. I’d watched my mother fade into a shell of her former self after my Dad’s death. Abbie and Connor’s reunion reminded me that love is terrifying. There was never a sure way to protect yourself from life-altering heartbreak.

I promised myself a long time ago I’d never allow myself to get that attached to another human being. And yet, that didn’t stop me from wanting it.

Connor and Lucas were now engaged in a heated conversation about something sports related, despite neither of them being big sports fans. I slid my phone from my back pocket. I wasn’t surprised to see four unread emails sitting in the Winding Road inbox, but I swiped the notifications away. I’d deal with work stuff later.

Iwassurprised to receive a text from Imogen. Imogen had sent it directly to me, instead of to our group chat.

Imogen Phillips

Abbie and I would like to come by the barn to finalize the design work for the flowers—will you guys be there this weekend? :)

I smiled beside myself. Our text conversations tended to be brief and sometimes stilted. To be fair, the latter had more to do with my propensity to overthink things, especially when it came to written communication.

Me

I won’t be here this weekend, but Lucas will be. Just come to the farmhouse and he can give you the barn key.

I was annoyed because I had to missanotherwedding planning day for a conference I had been asked to attend months earlier. Imogen and I’s schedules rarely lined up these days, which made it pretty difficult to do any joint planning on the wedding. Considering I had intricate knowledge of the venue and Imogen was Abbie’s unofficial wedding coordinator, who had most of the details on Abbie’s vision, we needed to have more conversations than we currently had bandwidth for. Most of what Imogen and I had accomplished so far had been through text message.

And as someone who wasn’t gifted with written communication, that made things incredibly difficult.

I told myself I was annoyed because it made coordinating things harder, not because it involved missing several chances to see Imogen.