Page 49 of Always Meant for You
“Things are different, Mabel. With your dad. And with me. I?—”
“No.” She lifts a hand, cutting the air between us. “Don’t start. I don’t want whatever version you’ve rehearsed.”
My shoulders tighten. “Fine. Here’s an easy question. How long are you planning to stay?”
She leans forward, her elbow brushing the crate between us. “Do you want me to say forever?” Her tone is syrupy sweet. “Did you miss me, darlin’? Want me to settle down in this dead-end town and raise goats with you?”
The words dig deep—deeper than she probably means.
“It’s not a dead-end town.”
She tilts her head, smile steady but strained. “You could’ve fooled me. Empty shops, a diner hanging by a thread. A real beacon of prosperity.”
Heat crawls up the back of my neck. “I’m doing what I can.”
“You think you can rebuild it by yourself?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Another lie.
My confidence is shaky at best. I’m barely keeping my head above water, but I can’t let her see that.
Gravel crunches beneath the tires as I ease onto the road leading to her family’s farm. I stop short and cut the engine. Dust curls around us.
She glances over at me. “What now? I know you have something to say. Get it out.”
I face her. “Jamie wanted more for this town. We wanted to make Elverna the kind of place you’d?—”
“That I’d what?” she presses.
The edge in her voice doesn’t match the sadness in her eyes.
I look down, then back at her. “You’re worn out. You’ve had a long trip.”
She gives the faintest shake of her head. “Not so worn out that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.”
I exhale slowly. “You’ve been home five minutes and already you think you have it all figured out?”
“I know enough.” Her voice is even. Her gaze, unwavering.
She doesn’t blink, doesn’t retreat. The strength in her silence has always undone me.
“You don’t understand what this place means to me, Mabel. And you left.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Our eyes meet, and the present slips. We’re back in it, every emotion crashing into us. The air is heavy with our history and hurt. My jaw locks. Her chin tips higher.
Christ, I want to kiss this woman.
I’m back under that tree with her, soaked to the bone, thunder booming, lightning cracking overhead. She’s heartbreakingly beautiful—rain clinging to her lashes, staring up at me with a kind of wonder I didn’t deserve.
I saw everything in her eyes.
Trust so pure it made my chest ache. Longing so sharp it left no room to breathe. I couldn’t let myself see her that way. I couldn’t risk the gravity of what it meant to be hopelessly in love with my best friend’s little sister.
I part my lips, not sure what’s about to come out when?—
