Page 4 of The One Who Changed Everything

She sighed, her annoyance and discomfort obvious. “Welcome to Minden. As a member of the town welcome committee, I am supposed to deliver this to you." Her voice was a tightrope, balancing between cold courtesy and the warmth I remembered. She’s reciting a well-rehearsed line, as though it was taking every bit of control she has.

She extended the basket toward me and I grabbed it, ignoring the way my fingers trailed over hers. The woven fibers of the welcome basket scratched against my hands, making me miss the softness in her touch.

“The town welcome committee?” I asked, desperate to draw out this interaction as long as I could.

She nodded.“Someone said you’d gotten an apartment in town, but we weren’t sure of your address. So the committee suggested I bring it here to the station.”

“Well, thank you.”

"Of course," she said, her smile as taut as a freshly wound clock.

The air between us was thick with things unsaid, with the history that coiled around us like smoke from a fire long extinguished. She was here out of obligation, perhaps, or maybe curiosity. Either way, a bitterness lurked beneath her politeness. I grappled with the silence stretching out, trying to stitch it closed with words from a time when silence between us was a stranger.

"Sam, I just—"

"Save it, Evan." Her words sliced through the air, each syllable iced with a bitterness that sent a shiver down my spine. I stood there, in the middle of Minden's fire station, holding the welcome wagon gift like an accusation.

“Oooh, are those bagels from Danielle’s place?” Elijah Woods walked by, grabbing the basket from my arms without waiting for permission. “Score!”

I barely gave him a glance as he started pulling food out of the basket and ripping into it. Instead, I searched her face for a sign of the warmth I once knew, but I only saw the same passive professionalism she’d shown at the library earlier. "I thought maybe we could talk about—"

"There's nothing to discuss." Samantha folded her arms, her posture rigid like the spines of the well-ordered books she guarded so carefully.

My mouth was dry, and I swallowed hard against the knot forming in my throat. I wanted to breach the chasm between us with words, but they faltered and crumbled before they could reach her. "I know I can't change the past, but—"

"Exactly," she interjected sharply, her eyes avoiding mine, as if the sight of me might unravel her composure. "You can't." The words were clipped, and she stepped back, retreating into the armor of her composure.

I nodded slowly, the weight of our history pressing on my chest. The silence stretched between us, heavy with all the things left unsaid. I saw the finality in her stance, the resolve in her eyes.

She hated me.

The word 'sorry' sat on the tip of my tongue, but even that felt woefully inadequate. It's a bandage offered to a wound I never saw heal, one I inflicted with choices reluctantly made.

The crackle of the dispatcher's voice over the radio sliced through my contemplation. "Station Two, respond."

Duty called, but my feet dragged across the polished floor of the firehouse, each step heavy with a reluctance that anchored me to this spot. I glanced back at Samantha, her silhouette framed by the doorway, as rigid and impenetrable as the walls around us.

"Station Two," I replied mechanically into my radio, my gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. With a deep breath, I tore my eyes away and stepped into the boots of responsibility. The familiar weight of my gear settled onto my shoulders, a comforting burden compared to the weight of our unfinished business.

Sam could shut me out as much as she wanted. I hadn’t been here long, but I already knew that Minden was an exceptionally small town. She couldn’t avoid me forever.

I wouldn’t forceher into anything, but she deserved to know that she meant something to me back then. I wasn’t the kind of guy for a one-night stand. I’d planned to wait untilmarriage, but I’d let myself take things too far. Still, if the fire hadn’t—

I pusheddown that line of thought. Thinking about what-ifs and could-have-beens was a waste of time.

The club bathroom happened.The fire happened. My brother happened.

And then,she had vanished before I could apologize for taking advantage of her.

I wasn’t goingto let her disappear again. Good thing Minden didn’t have very many places to hide.

CHAPTER 3

Evan

The carefree girl who'd danced on Florida's white sands seemed worlds away from the librarian meticulously typing in front of me. Her appearance was carefully curated. Not that the prim and proper button-up blouse did anything to hide her curves or detract from her natural beauty. She even had a few strands of gray hair sparkling against the rest of her dark locks, pulled back tightly to the nape of her neck.

How was it that Samantha Brown, with her tidy bun and glasses perched on her nose, was the same girl who’d worn the black bikini and cutoff shorts I’d tackled into the waves?

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