Page 50 of Just Can't Fall for the Enemy

“He didn’t dupe me at first,” I said, keeping my voice even despite the emotions too close to the surface. “I suspected he would do something like this. That’s why I wanted him out of town.”

“And now we all understand why.”

Indeed.

“Just make sure you’re ready for the influx of entitled tourists,” I told them. “They’ll be here any day now.”

Mari emerged from the back with a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies. She handed them to the cashier and came around the counter to give me a warm hug, her bright-white apron and tee a stark contrast to her dark skin. “They’ve already begun to trickle in. The hotel’s two-thirds full, and most of the rentals have been filled for the week. But don’t worry. You gave us enough notice that everyone’s on high alert. We’ll show them a good time and then help them on their way.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Oh, girl. Why don’t you come over to my house for some iced tea after work? I’ll distract you from this dreadful day with some sweet rolls.”

I never said no to her sweet rolls, but I didn’t feel up to it today. “Another time, if that’s all right. I have some things to do.”

“Let me know when you’re free, then. We’ll make a party of it. Maybe watch a chick flick and pretend like there’s still a Mister Darcy or two out there for us.” She winked. My mother’s best friend had never married, which was odd because she was the chick-flick queen of the town.

“Sounds good. I actually came to get something for Grammy. She’s been needing something to distract her from the arthritis.” I pointed to the raspberry rolls. “Three of these would be perfect.”

“I bet the warm Florida weather has done her good,” Barb said, scooping them into a box for me. When I tried to hand her my debit card, she waved me away as always. “Mari would fire me if I let you pay. Tell Grammy hi for me.”

“That’s right,” Mari said, following me out the door. Then she wrapped her plump arms around me. “How are you really doing?”

“I’m fine.”

She examined me with probing eyes. “Maybe so, but how is your heart?”

I gripped the cardboard box more tightly, feeling tears sting my eyes. “Not fine, but it will be.”

“What Tanner did was wrong, and I’m sorry. That was a cruel thing to do, using someone like that. But I’m more sorry that it’s over. You looked so happy. I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”

I looked at her in surprise. “I’m happy here. This town is my family.”

“And we’ll always be here for you. But I’ve worried for a long time that you’ve outgrown what we can offer you. That woman on Tanner’s video? She reached for her dreams, and I’m proud of her. I don’t recall ever hearing anything about it, though. You didn’t send it in, did you?”

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

I swallowed back the ache in my throat. That wasn’t a question I knew how to answer. When I finally spoke, my voice was quiet. “Did you know Mom was obsessed with bridges before she married Dad?”

Now it was her turn to look surprised. “Bridges? Why, no, I didn’t.”

“Neither did I. I found a box of photos she took of the bridges in New York. They were good too—shot from angles I didn’t even know were possible, all in stunning black-and-white. I saw a new world through her eyes.” I clasped the box against my chest, not caring that its contents were getting smashed. “She loved it there once, and I don’t even know why.”

Mari pressed her lips together. “She never talked about it. I’m sure she had a thousand good memories that balanced out the bad ones, though, or she wouldn’t have tried to go back.”

“But she was wrong to do that,” I said softly. I’d never voiced it, and I felt a little of the weight lift from my chest to say it. “If they’d stayed here and enjoyed what they already had, everything would be fine now. Every source of pain in my life came from out there, Mari. From reaching too high or venturing too far or someone traveling too wide.Trees have it right. They find a good place to plant their roots and choose to find happiness right where they are. That’s what I intend to do.”

Mari cocked her head. “But, baby girl, trees don’t get to love, and that’s the biggest shame of all.”

In a moment, I felt seventeen again with all the pitying looks and offers of food and Mari’s arms around me, none of which could entirely fill the gaping hole in my heart. Ten years had passed as of today, and I still couldn’t say my heart had fully healed. I wasn’t sure it ever would.

Tanner hadn’t caused that. He’d only reminded me that it was there—and that I would never be fully whole as long as I refused to mend it.

“Thank you,” I told my mom’s friend.Myfriend.

“I’ll always be here,” Mari said, squeezing my arm before opening the door to her bakery. “No matter where you end up.”

I got into my car, set the box on the seat, and tried to decide where to go next. I wanted to head home, put on my pajamas, and sulk in my room—but I knew Carmen and Grammy wouldn’t allow it today, inventing reasons to barge in and start a cheerful conversation. So I drove in the direction of the one place in the world I knew I could be alone.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived at the overlook. I sat on the dead log and tried to take in the view that usually healed my soul. I reminded myself how beautiful it was, how much I loved this forest, and told myself it was enough and would always be enough. But every inch of this cliff felt tainted with Tanner now. The place next to me where he sat, my left thigh where he’d rested his hand. The splotches of autumn color across the forest signifying the approach of winter. The remains of the tree I now sat on that had met its demise long ago, a western larch, probably close to a century old.

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