Page 18 of Return To You

He narrows his eyes on me and frowns. “Why?”

We’re really not talking about us, then? Nothing about the past? Wow. “I’m launching my massage business. This is advertising. How’s your back feel?”

He straightens. “It—it feels like new… Grace.”

My name coming out of his mouth pierces me. It’s been ten years since I’ve heard it, and it breaks me to pieces. I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep my lips from trembling. “That’s great,” I chirp. “Use the cream. It’ll help.” He could use more work, but I’m certainly not giving him the brochure to my spa in town.

Anyway, he’s probably just staying a couple of days. If that. And thank god.

There’s no way I can be in the same town as Ethan King.

I think he’s saying thank you or something like that, but I can’t take it anymore. I turn my back to him, pretending to occupy myself with a fresh sheet and oils and lighting a new candle.

I let the tears fall freely, careful not to sniffle, not to wipe them, not to breathe. Careful not to show any emotion.

Until light invades the tent, indicating he’s leaving.

And then I’m alone for a moment in the silent and empty tent, and peace slowly returns to me.

I silently thank Ms. Angela for sending people away on the pretext of me picking Dad up. Then I text Colton to take good care of our father, because I certainly can’t.

I can’t even take care of myself in this moment.

But I’m not letting this state of mind take root. I’ll get over this bump in the road like I always do. I’ll get back to my happy normal. I just have a handful of hours to get over myself, and I’m going to focus on that. I’m going to focus on being perfectly okay by the time I get to the farm tomorrow.

Because I have bigger problems than Ethan King.

five

Ethan

Iget that she’s over me. That she’s married to someone else now. But we had something, didn’t we? Forget how things ended. Let’s set that aside for a minute.

As far as I can remember, Grace was in my life. She’s my sister Haley’s age, and they were best friends. She was constantly at the farm, playing or helping with chores. Our mothers were and still are best friends.

We were close.

Not like siblings, though.

Different.

It was always different with Grace.

I felt the need to protect her. With four years on her, I took my role seriously. First, I felt the need to protect her from my brother Justin’s wild ideas. Like jumping from the roof into the above-ground pool. He wanted the girls to go first—“you’re lighter, you’ll get less water out of the pool.” Haley told him to get lost, but Grace was already halfway up the ladder. “Okay, I’ll go,” she said in her little voice, her wholesome innocence striking me. I jumped on the ladder and brought her, giggling, down.

“You’re a sissy, Grace,” Justin said.

“And you’re an idiot!” I replied as he jumped, hit the bottom, broke his leg.

I was blamed for that, by the way. For letting him get hurt. Didn’t really care, at the time. I thought he needed to learn his own lessons.

Grace never annoyed me the way Haley sometimes did—especially when I was with my friends. Haley was the consummate little sister, making fun of me, pulling my stinky socks out of the hamper whenever girls came to the farm.

Grace? She was gentle and helpful. She grew up to be funny, real funny, but never at the expense of others. She’d make fun of herself, or of a situation. She’d come up with games and ideas for a fun evening.

And then she became a woman, and I was lost to her.

She was the epitome of what I thought a woman should be. Sexy and kind, soft and tough, smart and active. She was going to take the world by storm. She wanted to leave Emerald Creek as soon as possible, travel the world, see places. And so did I.

---