Page 39 of The Sound Of Silence

My eyes flash to the counter, looking for something he may have left behind, but there’s nothing there to find. “Let me guess. The smell of my limited edition Christmas oil sucked you in.”

“Of course, but that’s not why I’m back. I wanted to give you this.” He hands over the wrapped gift with the cheesiest grin I think I’ve ever seen. “So, will you be mine?”

I instantly burst out laughing. I was pretty sure that’s where he was going with the entire ordeal, but I didn’t think he’d try it so soon.

“Didn’t we just have this conversation?” I say between laughter.

“We did,” he says, bouncing his eyebrows. “But I was kind of hoping this gesture would change your mind.”

“It’s sweet and funny, I’ll give you credit for that.”

Alex’s eyes light up. “So, it’s a yes?”

“It’s a maybe.”Shit! Where did that come from? And why don’t I feel like the world is going to end because I said it?

“I’ll take a maybe…for now,” he says with a frown. “But I’ll be back to try again.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Looking forward to it.Am I? The words don’t feel like a lie, and yet they must be.Right?

Chapter Seventeen

Willow

I’mclosingupforthe day when Lucia’s grandmother Bea walks up the steps, making me pause.

“Bea. How are you?” I ask, as I hold open the door for her, switching the outside fairy lights back on.

“I’m doing well, dear,” she answers with a smile. “Thank you. But how areyou, more importantly?”

Huh? “I’m great,” I lie, purposely not responding to her “more importantly” comment. I know she’s asking about last night. I’m actually surprised more people haven’t popped by to check in. But I’ll bet they’re all curiously talking about it, even if it’s not to my face.

After giving me a sympathetic nod, Bea follows me inside and busies herself smelling my new release scents, spending extra time at the Christmas Spice and All Things Nice one I had made for Christmas in July. It’s one of my favorites—a mix of mint, chocolate, cinnamon, and vanilla—but it’s dangerous, as it has me constantly craving unhealthy treats.

“Have you met Lucia’s baby?” I ask, changing the subject before she questions me. It feels strange saying it like that, but I’m only now realizing I haven’t been told her name. “Does she have a name yet?”

“She does,” Bea says, a little slowly, as though she’s distracted by something on her mind. I’d be worried that her tone had something to do with Lucia or the baby if I wasn’t one hundred percent certain she wouldn’t be standing inside my shop if there was something wrong.“But are you sure you’re good? Last night must have been hard. I hope everyone was looking out for you.”

“Last night was lovely. Dad’s speech was perfect and the food was delicious,” I say politely, when what I really want to say is…It’s been twelve years, I’m fine. How long do I have to wait before you all let me live my life as though I don’t have a piece of it missing? As though I wasn’t in an accident I can’t remember. As though I’m somehow less of a person. When is it my time to just be me? Not a reflection of my past.

Bea hesitates, ready to say something else, but she nods and picks up the essential oil she’s been looking at.

“This smells wonderful, Willow. I’d say it’s your best one, if I wasn’t still in love with last Christmas’s special.”

That one was surprisingly popular considering it was basically just a Christmas tree in the bottle with a touch of honey. Maybe the sweet honey smell mixed with the pine made all the difference.

“In fact,” she says slowly, brushing her hands over her light, knitted cardigan, “I’d buy your entire shop if I could. You know that, right?”

Okay, here goes, she’s about to ask more.

“I need to talk to you about Lucia. Is Sara around?”

Lucia?I could have sworn…

“She’s not. What’s going on?”

Bea slowly walks toward me, occasionally stopping to smell a scent or to delicately brush her fingers over my display. When she reaches the counter, she takes a deep breath and turns around before connecting our hands, the gesture making me uncomfortable.Have I done something wrong?

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