Page 18 of The Library of Second Chances
Chloe crushed the empty coffee cup in her hand. There were no bins nearby, so she stuffed it into her coat pocket, sniffling, not caring right now that there’d be dregs of coffee inside. Whenever her mind wandered, she saw Liam’s face in her mind: handsome, wavy brown hair, strong shoulders, forget-me-not blue eyes. The face she thought she would be waking up to every morning for the rest of her life.
She needed to get out of here.
At least Mrs Cook had said she could go home. She would buy herself some food from the supermarket, then go home and curl up on the couch with her book and a glass of wine.
She trailed to Aldi, feeling almost like the chapel was watching her go, silently laughing at her despair. She felt so stupid for crying like this; it had been years since Liam had broken her heart and her dreams of marriage and babies had been left in the dirt. Maybe she wasn’t yet ready to be walking around Wellbridge after all. Mrs Cook had said once that it might be healing, but it sure didn’t feel that way. More like ripping open a wound that had only just started to heal.
CHAPTER NINE
THE NORMALCY OFthe artificial lights and rows of packaged goods in the large Aldi supermarket was calming, and Chloe rubbed her nose before going in search of the frozen foods section. She knew she should try cooking properly – it was something she had taught herself at uni – but right now she just couldn’t be bothered. One of the perks of living alone, she supposed. Even so, she grabbed some brown bread and some eggs, not wanting to wake up to an empty fridge in the morning. She definitely should have done the shopping on Sunday instead of ordering that overpriced pizza.
She grabbed herself a chicken tikka masala from the freezer and headed towards the alcohol section. That stupid chapel kept coming back to mind, how beautiful she had imagined it looking, her excited discussion with the wedding planner about where to put the food tables and where she wanted to cut the wedding cake. Itannoyedher that she was this upset. She thought she had moved on.
Was it being here? Had coming back for her parents’ house been a mistake after all? It felt like it right now.
She turned down the next aisle and saw someone who did not improve her mood. Who else would be here but Harry, the man from the library. He was wearing a grey woollen jumper beneath his open coat, his hair damp as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. Hoping he hadn’t noticed her, she started to back away. He was looking at the beer section.
Just go, she thought to herself. It didn’t matter if he noticed her. But she was in no mood to even be near him right now.
He held his basket in his left hand, the one nearest to her. He had picked up a chicken tikka masala frozen meal, identical to hers.
For some reason, that made her only more annoyed. Like he was doing it on purpose.
Scowling, she stomped back to the frozen aisle and deposited the meal back into the freezer. She loitered for a while, but nothing else looked appealing. She ended up leaving without buying anything. She was being childish, but she didn’t much care. She was in no mood to put up with Harry’s rudeness again.
A cold sleet fell as she trudged miserably from the bright lights of the supermarket. She hadn’t realised how lonely she felt until now.
She shook herself. Nothing good would come from feeling sorry for herself. The Pride & Pint would be open, and the curry there would surely be edible.
Her stomach rumbled at the thought. Maybe some wine wouldn’t go amiss, either. She drove home, grabbed an extra jumper and an umbrella in case it rained – she wouldn’t makethatmistake again – and walked down to the Pride & Pint. It was getting dark now, the cold weather bringing on an early night, but at least the sleet had been short-lived. The streetlamps had switched on, illuminating the gleaming cobblestones and cottages in warm glows.
The pub was full of people. She stepped into the delicious warmth, the smell of food and beer making her mouth water, and took off her jacket.
‘Table for one, is it?’ asked a young woman. She glanced around. ‘We’ve just got this one small table by the fruit machines, I’m afraid.’
‘Fine.’ Chloe was starving by now and she couldn’t be bothered finding somewhere else to eat in the cold and dark. The chocolate fudge cake from Hannah’s café seemed like centuries ago.
The woman led her to her table, her ponytail swishing side to side. Chloe sat down and picked up a menu. All around them customers talked loudly, laughed and clinked beer glasses. A group of middle-aged men roared at theTV.
‘There’s someone sitting at that table beside you.’ The waitress pointed at the table next to Chloe’s. The customer wasn’t there at that moment but a satchel and a coat lay on the stool. When they came back, their elbows would practically be touching. ‘Is that all right?’
Chloe nodded, deciding she’d be too absorbed in her meal to care. It wasn’t until she’d ordered some food and half a pint of cider that a man sat in the place beside her.
‘You’re kidding me,’ she said under her breath.
Not quietly enough. The fair-haired Geordie glanced at her, his eyes widening in surprise. They were brown, contrasting darkly with his light hair, and for a moment, they just stared at each other.
Chloe took a hurried gulp of cider, looking pointedly in the other direction and hoping he wouldn’t recognise her. Too late.
‘Oh. It’s you.’
‘Yeah, it’s me.’ She set down her drink. She felt suddenly defensive. ‘All the other tables were full, so they squeezed me in here.’
‘You following me?’ His deadpan expression meant she couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.
‘Oh, yeah. I just can’t get enough of you.’ Her joke was met with silence, palpable even as a group of men gathered around the pubTVto watch the football. She wished they’d hurry up with that curry.
Chloe sat awkwardly, wondering how the very man she had been trying to avoid had now ended up in the same pub as her. His rudeness at the library sprang back to mind. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, before she could change her mind.
