Page 4 of Crossed Paths
Since then, she’s retreated. Quietly. Professionally. Keeps everything neat and tidy behind that bar of hers. But I see her. The flickers of her. The real her is still there under the routine and the distance.
I miss her.
Not just being around her—though God knows that’s always had its pull—buther. The way she lights up when she laughs properly. The fire in her when she’s passionate about something, even if it’s just telling Pete he’s full of it.The way her eyes go soft when she doesn’t know anyone’s watching.
I miss that version of her, and I’d do just about anything to see it again.
How Peter managed to convince her to leave the safety of the pub this morning is a mystery, but whatever the reason, I don’t care as long as I can spend some time with her.
I’m making it my mission today to make her laugh. Just once. That’s all I want. Doesn’t have to be anything big. Doesn’t have to mean anything more.
She’s never looked at me as anything other than Peter’s mate, and that’s fine. If I can be her friend—reallybe her friend—and help her find that spark again, then that’s enough.
The village green comes into view, a small cluster of early risers already gathered at the bench under the oak tree. Walking sticks, waterproofs, a couple of dogs trying very hard to behave.
“Nancy,” I call out, lifting a hand.
She turns with a wide smile, cheeks already pink from the chill. “Hunter! Lovely to see you. Thought you might show.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I say, walking over. “Thought I’d check it out properly. I’ve had a few guests asking about the group. Been hearing good things.”
Her smile grows. “Well, we’ve been going all summer, and word’s spreading. Originally, I had planned to only meet once a month, but we are now meeting weekly. Folks seem to like the mix of walking and nattering. And the traybakes.”
“Hard to argue with traybakes,” I say, then nod politely to the man standing beside her.
“This is Luke,” she adds curling up against his chest.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, offering a hand. He shakes it firmly.
“You too,” Luke replies. There’s a small smile between him and Nancy that doesn’t need explaining.
I shift my rucksack higher on my shoulder and glance toward the lane.
I scan the edge of the green, and there they are: Peter and Alexandra, making their way across from the church gate. Pete’s talking, arms moving like he’s giving a weather report. She walks beside him with that same quiet graceshe’s always had, shoulders slightly hunched against the chill.
And even from here, she pulls every bit of my attention.
Her hair’s tied back into a plait, a few ginger wisps escaping around her face, catching the early sun. Her coat’s buttoned up, but I can still see the way it hugs her—curvy, solid, beautiful, like a woman who’s lived and hasn’t shrunk herself for anyone.
She’s not smiling. Not yet.
Pete clocks me and lifts a hand. “Alright, mate?”
“Yeah,” I say, giving him a nod. “Didn’t think you’d actually convince her.”
“She came of her own free will,” he grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “Eventually.”
He veers off towards two women in matching fleeces and glossy boots. Not locals, definitely not dressed like they know how muddy these fields can get. But I am sure Pete is more than happy to give them a tip or two.
And then it’s just Alex and me.
Her cool, grey eyes meet mine, and for a second, it’s like we’re back in our teens again. Her daring me to climb the shed roof, me calling her a coward for not joining me.
Only this isn’t then. This is now.
And she’s stunning in a way she doesn’t seem to realise. The kind of beauty that isn’t careful or planned. It’s just there.
“Alex,” I say, voice quieter than I meant.
