Page 3 of Wynter's Second Chance

The conversation lingered in the air, a reminder of the changes that had unfolded over the years. I knew this was just the beginning; Rory would need time to process everything. I’d have to navigate this new dynamic with care.

“Why don’t you grab a seat, Wyn?” I suggested, trying to bring the focus back to something lighter.

Wynter smiled, but I could tell he was still thinking about Rory’s questions. “Sounds good.”

As I went back to icing the cupcakes, I knew the easy, carefree days we once had were long gone. We were different people now, shaped by loss and time. And while I was glad Wynter was here, I wondered if we could ever truly pick up where we left off—or if it was even wise to try.

I resisted the urge to glance at Rory, sensing the tension in his posture. He was always slow to warm up to new faces, especially since Royce had passed. The protective barrier Rory had built around himself was palpable, a shield he had erected out of necessity and loss. He’d become like a mother bear, fiercely guarding our small, fragile world.

I understood Rory's hesitation, and it cut deep. Losing Royce had left a void that was never truly filled. Even before that tragic day, Royce had been deployed for extended periods, leaving Rory with fleeting memories of his father. Those memories were scattered, like fragments of a dream, and Rory rarely spoke of them. I knew he was struggling, but he chose silence over conversation—a silence that weighed heavily on my heart. It troubled me that Rory was so closed off, preferring to keep his pain buried. Whenever I brought up going to see a therapist, he was adamant he didn’t need one, and I didn’t want to force him. Every chance that I could, I assured him I was there for him, ready to listen whenever he opened up.

I cleared my throat, desperately needing a change of topic. “So, how is Lisa?”

Wynter’s smile faltered slightly, a shadow crossing his face. “I haven’t seen her yet,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of discomfort.

Say what?The words hit me like a cold splash of water. “Haven't seen her yet?” I echoed, trying to process the unease in his voice.Something’s off, way off.

“I came directly from the airport,” Wynter said with what would seem like a casual shrug to someone who didn’t know him well, but I knew better. What the heck was going on?“Since I was on my way home, I thought I’d stop by and say ‘hello.’ I’ll head out now.”

I watched him closely, noting the stiffness in his posture and the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly, like he was holding back words he hadn’t yet decided whether or not to say. His gaze flickered around the room, never quite settling on anything for long. This wasn’t the behavior of a man eager to reunite with his wife after a long separation. If anything, it hinted at something more troubling, a tension beneath his polished exterior.

A man who hadn’t seen his spouse for over a year wouldn’t make a casual pit stop unless there was more going on. My mind raced with unspoken questions. Was he planning to surprise Lisa? Or, was there something more? Like trouble in their marriage? Did he want to talk about Royce? Well, I didn’t. At least, not now.

I’d never been particularly close to Lisa, and over the years since Royce passed, I rarely ever saw her. Her family was wealthy, originally from California, but they had a vacation home here in Aspen Ridge where they spent every summer and Christmas. Royce, Wynter, and I used to see her during those breaks, and later, her parents had gifted her and Wynter the place as a wedding present. But Lisa and I never really hit it off; she was this affluent, pampered only child whose world seemed far removed from mine. Her air of entitlement always felt like a barrier I couldn’t breach.

In many ways, she was my polar opposite. One of four children, I started part-time work at fifteen. In college, I workedthroughout to support myself. There’d never been a time in my life when I didn’t have to earn money.

Mentally brushing away my wayward thoughts, I poured the last batch of cupcake batter into the molds and popped them in the oven. “I bet she’ll be happy to see you. And now that you’re back, you can have a normal life.”

One that I didn’t get enough of a chance to live.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Would you like some coffee? A cupcake?” I offered.

“No, thanks. I just wanted to see you.” He appeared at a loss for words.

I could tell from his expression that he was also sensing the awkwardness of the moment.

Still, he made no move to go. “Are you working?” he asked, then shook his head. “Sorry. Silly question—I meant, where are you working?”

“Still at Mabel’s. And since—” I cleared my throat before continuing. “And on weekends, I go over to the hospital to work in the cafeteria.” I didn’t need to say it out loud for Wynter to understand that since Royce passed, I had picked up a second job. The look in his eyes was enough to convey his sympathy. I didn’t want it. Sure, I had to work harder, but not so much more than many single fathers I knew who spent most of their time putting food on the table. “The money is good.”

Well, notthatgood, but enough to meet my son’s and my basic needs with a little to save up.

“And the cupcakes?”

“Just a side order,” I said in a breezy voice. It was for a purpose, however. I wanted to save enough money to buy a new gaming system for Rory. He’d had his eye on it for a long time, but I simply didn’t have enough cash to buy it… Now I would. With this and a couple of other pre-Christmas orders, I would make it work. My son wasn’t going to be deprived of things justbecause he didn’t have his Papa around anymore. I was willing and able to fill both roles.

“That’s great.” Wynter stood, his gaze landing on my son. “I—well, I’m heading out now.”

Rory shifted uneasily, his eyes darting between Wynter and the nearly empty bowl of batter. I’d asked him to finish up the cleaning, but it was really a tactic to keep him occupied and less focused on Wynter’s unexpected visit. Rory had always had a soft spot for the sweet, gooey leftovers, and it was a simple way to distract him. “Dad wants to open his own bakery,” he blurted out, the first thing he’d said since I asked him to finish the cupcakes.

Wynter raised an eyebrow, as if he sensed the underlying tension in Rory’s voice. “Yeah? That’s great.”

“I’m working on it.” I picked up the plate I’d prepared and held it out to Wynter. “Here, take this with you. And give my love to Lisa. It’s been a long time.”

“Agreed. Now that I’m back, maybe we can hang out again?” Wynter’s gaze lingered on me, as if searching for something unspoken.

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