Page 28 of Eight Years Gone

“He’s a good one.”

Grace cleared her throat as she wiggled the next hydrangea into place, well aware that Aunt Maggie had always had a soft spot for Jagger. “Are there any updates on Todd’s heel? Has Jagger mentioned how long he’s staying?”

“No, he hasn’t.” Aunt Maggie adjusted herself on the stool. “He doesn’t say a whole lot of anything. He comes in here, works his butt off, then heads out for one of his morning runs before he works his butt off at Todd’s.”

Grace reached for a pink rose in one of the buckets, trimmed the stem, fit it in its place, then picked up another, wanting to drop the subject of Jagger Tennyson altogether.

“Have you two talked?” Aunt Maggie wanted to know.

Grace jabbed the next flower among the others. “No.”

Several seconds passed in silence while they both did their job.

“Are you going to punish him forever, Grace?”

Her gaze whipped to meet Aunt Maggie’s in surprise. “I’m not punishing him.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She wandered over to the supply shelf to grab a different pair of shears when she found the ones she was working with to be suddenly dull. “I don’t know why he’s here.”

“Why do you think he’s here?”

She put down a perfectly good pair to grab another, growing increasingly annoyed. Her goal had never been to punish Jagger. It was only to protect herself. “I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Grace—”

She whirled. “He left me. He just left.”

Aunt Maggie’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I know he did, honey. I know he broke your heart. But that boy loved you. He would have walked through fire for you.”

“If he loved me so much, then why did he go?”

“You know why. Your father didn’t give him much of a choice.”

She adamantly shook her head. “There’s always a choice, and he didn’t choose me.”

Setting the shears back in the pile, Grace headed for the front of the store. “Since you have the arrangements under control, I’m going to run a few errands—get that deposit to the bank.” But she slowed when Aunt Maggie started speaking again.

“I know he hurt you, honey. But have you taken a good look at him? He’s harder than he used to be. Jagger certainly has an edge, but I think there’s a strong possibility that he’s hurting too.”

She looked over her shoulder at her aunt—the woman who was currently forcing her to talk and think about things she’d rather leave buried. But ultimately, she knew Aunt Maggie meant well.

When everything had fallen apart, Aunt Maggie and Asa had been the ones to help her pick up all the pieces. “I’ll be back in a little while. Call if you need anything.”

Aunt Maggie nodded. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

* * *

Grace slowed in front of the bank, then eased her way into a parallel parking space when she realized that the miserly few spots in the parking lot were full. Friday mornings were always busy downtown.

Eager to focus on her to-do list and forget about her conversation with Aunt Maggie, she snagged her cell phone from the console and her purse off the seat.

But she paused with her hand on the door handle when she spotted Jagger through the large windows in Todd’s dojang across the street.

Jagger looked amazing—perfectly right—wearing his black-and-white dobok with the black belt wrapped around his waist.

Currently, he sat on the blue and red floor mats while five preschool-aged children sat in front of him. Todd did the same with another small group not too far away.

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