“What’s the word on Mrs. Hutchins, Mr. Mayor?”
He coughs into the phone. “Nobody thinks she died because of the wreck. They think she probably was stroking out and that’s what caused the accident.”
“That’s rough.”
“She’d have hated to know she caused so much damage to Maisy’s store. Looks totaled, man.”
I run a hand through my dusty hair. “I’ll help her rebuild. We’ll make it better than ever.”
Max chuckles on the other end of the line. “I’m sure you will, Romeo.”
But days later, Maisy is still despondent. Every time I try to bring up rebuilding, she changes the subject. She’s still cooking and cleaning, but we haven’t made love since the accident. I feel like I can’t reach her.
After the celebration of life for Mrs. Hutchins, I find Maisy in the greenhouse. She’s not working with the plants. Just standing there in her black outfit.
“What’s going on, Maisy?”
She gives me a sad smile, but doesn’t say anything. I take a step closer and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me. Maisy rests her head on my chest, her tears soaking through my shirt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I know I’ve been distant. I just can’t stop thinking about what could have happened. If I hadn’t had that vision, if I hadn’t saved you.”
“But you did. I’m right here.”
“I’m not sure I want to rebuild the store, William.”
Chapter Seventeen
Maisy
“And why is that, Maisy?” he asks. “Why don’t you want to rebuild?”
I shrug. “I did what I came to Tempest to do. I’m here because I was supposed to save you. Maybe the store being trashed is the universe saying I’m not meant to stay.”
William’s eyes narrow, his grip on my waist tightening. “Don’t talk like that, Maisy. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is the store. We’ll fix it. That’s what I do. I’ll make it even better. You’ll see.”
Tension was rolling off him. It was going to be hard to make him hear me. To understand. “I’ve never been much for roots. You knew that when I first got here. I did what I came to do. The store is no longer a thing, so you don’t need me to run it. My reasons for staying are—”