Page 32 of Christmas On Anchor Island

“Hold up. You were going to move?”

“That’s what I talked to Grandma about today. I mean, I didn’t mention Charleston specifically, and I hadn’t even decided that was for sure where I was going, but leaving is out of the question now.”

Henri felt as if she’d been handed her dream and had it snatched away at the same time. “Why not now? If anything, now seems like the perfect time to go.”

Mia stopped so abruptly, Henri walked past her and had to come back. “For one,” she said, “if I leave now, everyone will think that I’m running away because they know the truth.”

“No, they won’t.”

“And for two,” she continued as if Henri hadn’t spoken, “I can’t leave Grandma like this. I can’t hurt her and then walk away.”

“Yes, she’s hurt right now, but you can talk to her. You can make her see why you didn’t tell her.” Taking her hand, she added, “Don’t give up your entire future over this. Mia, you deserve to have a life.”

“You mean a life with you,” she said, jerking her hand away.

“No. I mean, yeah, that would be great. That’s what I want more than anything. But this is about what you want. If that isn’t Charleston, then I’ll accept that, Mia. Just don’t stay here out of some twisted family obligation.”

Color high in her cheeks, Mia looked off in the distance. “Not everyone is like you, Henri.”

Her tone made clear the statement wasn’t a compliment. “What does that mean?”

“You do whatever you want. You go wherever you want. Life is simple for you. No ties. No anchors. Not everyone has that kind of freedom to do what they want.”

Jaw tight, Henri thought of the endless obligations that dictated her life. The deadlines. The pressure to deliver the next good book. To be original and creative, while being a businesswoman and a marketing expert and everything from her own shipping clerk to an accountant and contract negotiator.

Simple? Nothing in Henri’s life was simple.

“You aren’t the only one who keeps certain parts of your life hidden. We’re all out here struggling, Mia. Some of us may make it look easier, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t treading water like everyone else.” Stepping back, she added, “If you want to talk, I’ll be around for another week. If not, that’s your choice.”

Henri returned to the restaurant, walking slowly at first in hopes that Mia would stop her. Instead, she heard footsteps going in the opposite direction. Though her heart said to turn around and follow, the next move had to be Mia’s. If that move was to give up on them ever having a future, then Henri would survive.

She’d done it before and she’d do it again. Only this time was going to leave a much bigger mark.

* * *

Mia burnedthrough her anger in less than half a mile. First, she blamed Jeremy and then Grandma before remembering that she had no one to blame but herself. As the adrenaline ebbed, she played back the conversation with Henri and added one more person to the list of those she’d hurt.

If anyone knew what Mia was going through, it was Henri. She just made it look so easy. Be yourself. Live your truth. Henri embodied those philosophies, yet getting there couldn’t have been easy. A reality Mia failed to consider. Shoulders tight against the cold, she struggled not to drown in the guilt rising up like the tide.

Legs tired and mind weary, Mia took a seat on a bench along the lane. How was she going to fix this? When was she going to grow up and stop being afraid of everything? Afraid of disappointing people. Of taking a risk. Of not being enough.

When it came to creating art, she could look at a canvas or a piece of clay and trust that whatever she turned them into would be beautiful. Her work would say something and invoke an emotional reaction. If only she had that level of confidence in herself. In who she was.

Another gust of cold air sliced through her thin coat, and Mia’s eyes watered as she started to sniffle. Walking had not been her best idea, but then she couldn’t remember the last time any of her ideas had been good ones. Rising to her feet, she steeled herself against the cold, but before she could start her trek again, a familiar vehicle appeared in the distance.

As he pulled up beside her, the window lowered and Jeremy said, “The least I can do is give you a ride.”

Mia’s first instinct was to refuse, but she really was cold, and the issue of him asking her out was clearly off the table. With a nod, she hurried around the BMW and climbed in.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied, setting the car into motion. “I’m really sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Mia kept her eyes on the scene ahead. “I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

“That would have helped, but you never encouraged me either. I realize that now.”

Too bad he couldn’t have realized that an hour ago. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

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