Page 3 of The One Who Risked it All

“Yeah, it’s...” I trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. How do you make small talk with the woman who still haunts your dreams? “The leaves are nice,” I finished lamely, gesturing at the vibrant autumn foliage surrounding us.

Carla raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “The leaves are nice? Wow, Eli Wells at a loss for words. I should mark this day on my calendar.”

I chuckled, relaxing a bit. This was familiar territory – our easy banter, the underlying current of... something more. “What can I say? Your beauty has rendered me speechless.”

It was meant to be a joke, part of our usual back-and-forth. But there was too much truth in it, and I saw the moment Carla registered that. Her eyes widened slightly, and she took a small step away from me.

“You can’t say–“

“Elijah.”

My father’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. I turned to see him approaching, his expression a mixture of disapproval and wariness.

“Dad.” I nodded, instinctively straightening my posture. “We were just—“

“I’m sure you were,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no doubt as to what he thought we were ‘just’ doing. He turned to Carla, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Miss Putnam, I believe your mother was looking for you.”

Carla hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking between me and my father. “Of course,” she said finally. “If you’ll excuse me.”

As she walked away, I felt the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air between us.

I watched Carla’s retreating form, fighting the urge to call her back. My father cleared his throat, and I turned to face him, plastering on my best carefree grin.

“Quite a party, huh, Dad? I was just complimenting Carla on the decorations. Did you know she made the cupcakes?”

He didn’t buy it for a second. “Elijah, we’ve talked about this. The Putnams—“

“I know, I know,” I interrupted, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “Ancient family feud, off-limits, yadda yadda. Can’t a guy have a friendly conversation?”

My father’s eyes narrowed. “It’s more complicated than that.”

I knew that. Or at least, I thought I did. But watching Carla all day, seeing her laugh and smile with my family, it was getting harder to remember why we were supposed to stay away from each other. Ever since she and Rebecca became close friends, my world had collided with hers far too frequently, and not at all often enough.

“Look, Dad,” I started, trying to find the right words, “I get it. But don’t you think it’s time to let go of whatever happened in the past? You won’t even talk about it. I don’t even know why I’m supposed to hate their family, because it’s some big secret no one in town will even mention. And this town talks about everything and everyone.”

He shook his head, his expression hardening. “There are things you don’t understand. Just stay away from them. That’s all you need to know.”

As he walked away, I was left with a swirling mess of emotions. Frustration at my father’s stubbornness. Longing for Carla. And underneath it all, that familiar ache of never quite measuring up.

I glanced around the reception, taking in the happy faces of my family and friends. Nathan and Rebecca, lost in their own little world. My mother, fussing over some flower arrangements. And Carla, across the room, laughing at something Jake was saying.

She caught my eye, and a tiny jolt zinged through my chest. But I forced myself to look away.

Time to move on, Wells. For real this time.

I straightened my shoulders, determined to enjoy the rest of the party without dwelling on what couldn’t be. But as I made my way toward Bryce and the guys, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was really ready to let go of the past – or if I even wanted to.

CHAPTER 2

Carla

Iglanced around my cluttered living room, wincing at the chaos. Stacks of ungraded papers teetered precariously on every surface, threatening to topple at the slightest breeze. Bible verses in colorful calligraphy covered the walls–my chosen version of interior design on a budget. I sighed and plopped down on the couch, pushing aside a pile of laundry to make room for myself. This was not how I pictured my evening – surrounded by work and mess instead of curled up with a good book or hanging out with friends.

I’d spent so much time helping Rebecca prepare for the vow renewal that I’d gotten behind on everything else. And I hated being behind.

But that was just how it was sometimes as a teacher – always more to do, more papers to grade, more lessons to plan. Maybe I should just quit and become a beach bum.

But the sand gets everywhere, I mused as I blew a strand of hair out of my face and focused on the paper in front of me. My eyes skimmed over the student’s handwriting, red pen poised above it.

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