Page 27 of Beautiful Thing

I like seeing her like this. Happy. Relaxed. Safe. I love being able to provide her with a safe space to be herself. That has to be enough for me.

An older woman approaches the cash register with a cart of houseplants and decorative items. Layla greets her warmly and the two of them immediately fall into a jovial conversation. The melodic sound of Layla’s laughter keeps pulling me in and I have to focus extra hard on maintaining my balance up here on this ladder.

When the door swings open, my eyes trail in that direction as a family of four bursts inside.

The little girl makes a beeline for the home decor corner of the shop, her shock of white-blonde hair flying around her shoulders.

Layla looks away from the customer she’s helping and offers the newcomers a smile. “Hello there. Welcome to Hammers and Hardware.”

The warm greeting doesn’t even get a nod of acknowledgment in return.

“Gwendolyn—don’t touch!” the mother cries out, a trace of panic in her barely controlled voice as she maneuvers a clunky double stroller through the narrow aisle.

Instant recognition sets in and I have to do a double-take.

At the sight of her familiar face, a wave of vitriol washes over me.Kathryn. Kathryn Campbell.

My insides coil up at the sight of the woman who broke my heart. The breakup happened eons ago but the stab through my gut feels fresher than ever. It must be my shock mixed with the lingering bitterness I’d almost forgotten was there.

A toddler boy wobbles along after Kathryn in his puffy snowsuit, wailing out for her attention. But she’s preoccupied with getting to her older daughter who seems to be on a mission to fuck some shit up.

And then, from my spot up on the ladder, my eyes land on the man Kathryn left me for.

Dan Rochester strolls through the store with a carefree stride in his steps. Like the king of his own world, hair slicked back, expensive watch gleaming, phone pressed to his ear. It’s as if the commotion these kids are causing has nothing to do with him.

Kathryn manages to grab their daughter right as the little girl is reaching for a huge brass Buddha statute displayed on a low shelf. “Gwendolyn! I said, don’t touch!” she repeats firmly.

The second she finally has the little girl under control, a loud crash rings out. My eyes follow the sound to where the toddler boy has knocked over a display of disposable batteries.

Kathryn throws her head up to the ceiling in exasperation and groans. That’s when her eyes catch on mine.Shit.

Her stare widens and her mouth opens but nothing comes out. Dan’s gaze follows hers. His eyebrows furrow when he sees me up on the ladder.

“Brighton?” he spits out my name as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Annoyance flashes through me and I do very little to hide it as I descend the ladder. “Rochester.”

He holds a hand out to me like we’re old buddies or something.

I walk right past him, bending to scoop up the batteries he just stepped over in his expensive loafers. I place the little packets on a nearby counter so they don’t get wet on the slush-covered floor.

Dan huffs out a chuckle. “You’re the last person I expected to see standing on a ladder in the middle of this old hardwarestore. Times must be real desperate if a bear like you is working in retail these days.”

What the fuck does he mean by that? Looks like Dan is still the same asshole I remember. Just like him to make some smart-ass comment without knowing anything about my life.

“I own the place,” I seethe, not bothering to look at his dumb face.

I won’t let his snarky bullshit get under my skin.

Kathryn lets out a surprised noise. “You own this store? Wow. That’s so great, Archer. Impressive. Good for you.” As she speaks, she attempts to wrangle her son into the stroller and strap him down.

I feel eyes on me and I glance across the shop. Layla quickly turns her attention back to the customer she’s still ringing up. She’s doing that thing where she pretends to be minding her business when she’s really not.

But she has no idea. Her presence is the anchor that grounds me in this moment, even from the other side of the room. Having her close makes me feel like I’ve got someone on my side.

Meanwhile, Kathryn is trying to look cute, batting her eyelashes and taking a moment to discreetly comb her hair with her perfectly-manicured fingers.

Silently, I wonder how it’s possible for a person to look so expensive and so haggard at the same time.

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