Page 72 of Forgotten Desires

The one thing neither of us thought about was that Brynn hasn’t been in the house in two weeks. There were very few food options in the house. We were going to order something in, but Brynn thought maybe getting this over with and being seen in the town would make it easier for us going forward.

“Of course, honey, don’t you worry about us,” Mrs. Symonds says, stepping to the side.

Brynn maneuvers past them and we’re stopped at least ten more times before we’re at a table. The patrons continue to watch us though, and she huffs loudly. “Go back to your dinners. We’re not going anywhere.”

They take direction well. I can at least give them that. We go from being openly stared at to being on the receiving end of more subtle glances.

Layla is plastered to my side and Brynn pulls something out of her bag. “I brought us a coloring book.”

“You did?” Layla asks excitedly.

“Do you want to color with me?”

She nods enthusiastically.

Brynn places the book on the table and pulls out some crayons. After a minute, Layla pulls the book to her, taking over the activity.

“Sorry about that. I knew they’d be excited, but I wasn’t prepared for that level of craziness.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s clear the town loves you,” I say with a grin.

“They do. We’re very protective of the people who live here. It’s more of a family than just a town, if that makes sense.”

I nod. “It does.”

“Most of us have lived here our whole lives. The farms here are generational and each person has a very deep pride about being from Sugarloaf.”

“While I didn’t grow up in a small town, I do understand generational pride.” It’s why I couldn’t be with Brynn when we were younger. “It’s nice to see an example where it’s not trying to ruin people’s lives.”

Brynn laughs softly. “I wouldn’t say it doesn’t happen, but they mean well.”

“When I reached out to Rowan about your sanctuary, he put me in touch with some guy named Albert. I spent an hour on the phone with him as he told me all the things I needed. The thing is, only about ten minutes was the actual advice about the farm, the other fifty was about how amazing you are, as if I didn’t know that.”

Albert had gone on and on about Brynn and the treasure she is. He talked about how his horse had the beginnings of colic and she came over each day to help because he was sick and couldn’t. Then there was the story about when she was a little girl and she’d leave out bowls of food for the animals who might be hungry. It was story after story about how special, kind, and loved she is.

While I may not have known all the stories, I didn’t need to hear them to know that I don’t deserve her.

I never did.

“Crew . . . I . . . I wanted to say—” Brynn starts but is cut off.

“Rin, look at my pretty butterfly!” Layla beams, lifting her picture up.

She smiles wide. “That’s beautiful, Layla.”

“It’s for you!”

“For me?”

Layla nods.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I love it. We’ll put it on the fridge at the house,” Brynn tells her and Layla beams.

If I didn’t already love this woman, seeing her with Layla would’ve done the job. Layla has always been a reserved child. She spends most of her time with the nanny or alone with me. She also is simply shy, but with Brynn, she can’t help but be happy.

“I color another one!” Layla announces and goes back to it.

“She loves you,” I say to Brynn. “She’s not even like this with Kimberly.”

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