Page 8 of Back in the Bay

"Right." Fox's tone makes it clear he doesn't believe me. "Just like you don't care if she shows up."

I climb down from the ladder again, needing to move, to do something, with the nervous energy suddenly coursing through me. "We should finish the bathroom fixtures before lunch."

Fox allows the subject to change, but his knowing smirk follows me down the hallway. The idea of Mabel returning toCedar Bay—of seeing her again after all these years—makes my stomach twist in ways I haven't felt since I was eighteen.

It's ridiculous. I'm a grown man who runs his own business, who's built a life here. I shouldn't be affected by the mere possibility of running into my high school girlfriend.

But as I mechanically install the bathroom sink, my mind betrays me with questions: What does she look like now? Is she still as driven, as brilliant, as stubborn? Did she become the hotshot lawyer she always wanted to be? Is there someone in her life who makes her laugh the way I used to?

Does she ever think of me at all?

By lunchtime, I've convinced myself it doesn't matter. Mabel won't come. She's made it clear over the years that Cedar Bay is her past, not her present. And even if she did show up, we're different people now, whatever we had died a long time ago, buried under years of silence and separate lives.

But as Fox and I pack up our tools for lunch, my phone buzzes with a text from Rowan:

Just got Mabel's RSVP. She's coming. I thought you should know.

The wrench slips from my hand and clatters to the floor.

"Everything okay?" Fox asks, but I can tell from his expression he already knows.

I stare at the screen, reading the message three more times as if the words might change. "She's coming to the wedding."

"Shit." Fox runs a hand through his hair. "You want to call Ellie and tell her plans changed?"

"No." The word comes out sharper than I intended. "I'm not scrambling to find a date just because my ex is going to be there. That would be pathetic."

Fox raises an eyebrow. "More pathetic than bringing your cousin?"

I pocket my phone and head for the door. "I need air."

Outside, the October breeze carries the scent of salt and dying leaves. I lean against my truck, trying to process the fact that in two weeks, Mabel Maxwell will be back in Cedar Bay. The same woman who swore she'd never return, who couldn't wait to shake the dust of this town off her designer heels.

"You know what this means, right?" Fox joins me, unwrapping his sandwich. "This is your chance."

"My chance for what? To embarrass myself in front of everyone we went to high school with?"

"Your chance to get closure. To see if there's still something there, or if you can finally move on." He takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Either way, you'll know."

The problem is, I don't want to know. For thirteen years, I've lived with the possibility that maybe—just maybe—we could find our way back to each other someday. It's a fantasy I've never admitted to anyone, barely admitted to myself. But it's kept me from fully committing to anyone else, from building something real with someone who wants to be here.

"What if she's married?" The question slips out before I can stop it.

"Then you'll know it's really over, and you can stop waiting for someone who's never coming back."

Fox is right, but it doesn't make the prospect any less terrifying. I've spent so long imagining what I'd say to Mabel if I saw her again, how I'd prove I've become the man she thought I could never be. Now, I might get that chance, and I have no idea if I'm ready for it.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from Rowan:

Also, she's not married. I thought you'd want to know that, too.

This time, I manage to keep hold of my tools, but just barely.

Fox must see something on my face because he stops mid-chew. "What now?"

"She's not married." The words feel strange in my mouth as if I'm speaking a foreign language.

"Well, hell." Fox sets down his sandwich. "That changes things."

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