Page 1 of Fall at Once

Chapter 1

Madi

“No, no, no. Crap, crap, crap. Come on! Please…” I muttered as my car sputtered and slowed to a lurching crawl as I navigated the twisty, turny—and I’m just going to say it—treacherous, pain-in-the-butt mountain road that led up to Cozy Creek, Colorado.

I was born and raised in Colorado Springs, where Ubers were plentiful, public transportation was readily available, and when it was nice outside, I could walk. I rarely had to drive myself anywhere. My car was an old hand-me-down Volkswagen Bug, painted a pretty pale shade of pink.

Our mother had given it to my oldest sister after she’d learned how to drive, who then passed it to my second oldest sister, who had passed it to me when I turned sixteen. Mom had bought it when she hauled her booty out of Cozy Creek ages ago afterdivorcing my dad. She’d insisted we keep it in the family for sentimental reasons; she called it her freedom car.

I should have known it would never make it up here and taken her new Cayenne, as she’d offered. But I was in a rush to leave, and I didn’t want to go to her place and pick it up. Seeing her meant I’d have to talk about why I was in such a hurry to get the heck out of town, and I just wasn’t ready for the post-mortem discussion of my failed relationship. It was too fresh. And I was feeling too many conflicting things to sound reasonable.

I’d just broken up with the man I’d wasted half of my twenties on, a man my mother wholeheartedly approved of. A man who had no compunction wasting those precious years of time, effort, and love I had invested in him.

But was it really love?

I had thought it was…andfeltlike it was. But maybe I had been willing to simply accept whatever crumbs he threw my way.

With each mile I’d driven away from him and our life together in Colorado Springs, I felt like I was breathing right for the first time in a really long time. Maybe he wasn’t who I was meant to be with, and holding on for so long had been foolish.

Or maybe I’d broken his heart, and he wasn’t ready to take the next step with me. He cried when I broke it off. He’d sat at our usual table in our favorite restaurant on our fifth anniversary with tears in his eyes as I told him it was over. He had told me I’d blindsided him. Yeah, right.

Blindsided?As if that dinner was the first time I’d broached the question of where our future was going.

It was not the first time I told him I wanted to be married and have children someday. He knew what I wanted from my life. I never hid it. Clearly, our definition ofsomedaywas not the same. For me, five years had been long enough.

To be fair, that was the first time I’d demanded an answer from him. It was the first time I didn’t let him off the hook when he said he liked how things were between us and didn’t want to change it. Maybe I was equally to blame for allowing him to lead me on.

But I was currently not supposed to be thinking about him, my life, my feelings, or anything to do with Ross or the fact that I had just turned thirty and was nowhere close to where I thought I’d be at this point in my life. Growing up, I’d thought thirty was so old. I had thought I’d be settled down with a family of my own.

“Damn it.” I yanked the wheel to the side, managing to pull safely off the road before the car died completely with an unceremonious mechanical groan.

I scanned the side of the road, watching the cars pass me by. Was it weird that I felt like I was living a life that wasn’t my own?

Here I was, newly thirty, newly single, and look at me now—a clueless city girl stuck on the side of a mountain road. I was stuck in a broken-down car while people kept living their lives alongside me.

To be clear, nothing was wrong with being thirty—it just felt like an arbitrary marker in time I’d set for myself and failed to live up to.

Did I have kids?No.A house?No.A husband?No. Not even apet to call my own.

I’d always thought by this time in my life, I’d have it all. I wanted a big family. I wanted to go to soccer games and bake brownies. I wanted to curl up in front of fires and read bedtime stories. Driving kids to school and playdates sounded like a great way to spend my time, dang it. My therapist didn’t have to tell me that I wanted to create the life I’d always wanted to have while growing up; it was glaringly obvious, and I didn’t care.

I had expected to get a proposal at our anniversary dinner. But I didn’t. Instead of a ring, I had gotten a sympathetic smile from a random, eavesdropping waiter. I took that as the hint I’d been missing for five fucking years and broke it off right then and there. Five years on the damn dot. Thank god we had never moved in together. I was pathetic; an unsettling mixture of feeling sorry for myself and feeling utterly relieved that our breakup was as easy as me throwing a suitcase into my run-down Bug and hitting the road. I had nothing to collect from his house aside from a change of clothes, a few books, and a toothbrush, and he had left nothing behind at mine at all. It was all so sterile and uncomplicated. Starting over at square one was not part of my life plan at this age.

Shaking off the memories, I inhaled a deep breath to get a hold of myself, but it was neither calming nor cleansing.

I gripped the steering wheel until it creaked, then closed my eyes tight against my confused jumble of emotions and frayed nerves, breathing in and slowly out until I could catch one of myscattered thoughts.

Now what?

I had to call my grandmother. That was first on the list. I was absolutely going to be late for dinner tonight, and she was a worrier.

I was on my way to her place. She’d sprained her ankle while line dancing with her girlfriends and needed me to help her run her bakery until she got better. Gigi’s Cozy Creek Confectionery will be my new workplace for the next couple of months. I couldn’t wait to get there.

Her accident was unfortunate but a blessing in disguise, allowing me to spend time with her and, at the same time, the chance to get away for a while and clear my head.

Working in Gigi’s bakery was the perfect place to reboot my brain. I’d planned to eat my weight in her delicious petit fours, drink pot after pot of her excellent tea, and spend my time mentally checking out while I reassessed my deluded past perceptions about love and marriage and what I deserved from a man. I needed to decide, once and for all, what I wanted for my future and how I wanted to get it.

Cozy Creek Confectionery was Gigi’s pride and joy. She needed someone she could trust, she had said to me. I’d grown up baking with her—on weekends, holidays, and school vacations. Spending time with her had always been one of my favorite things, so I jumped at the chance.

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