Page 40 of When Sky Breaks
What a ripe fucking mess I’m in.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
august
Growing up, I was never a runner. Currently, I’m more of the casual walk through the woods with my camera kind of guy, but waiting for the moment I see Sky again sends my heart rate into an adrenaline high.
Even the comforting scent of roasted coffee beans does nothing to break the vice wrapping its steel grip around my chest.
I’m the sole reason she’s never come back home. Me. I hurt her so much. And it’s more than just about Chase. The truth I concealed and the pain I caused will forever haunt me.
I pry my fingers from the chair next to me and remember to breathe. Can’t be melting down in a public place. Especially in front of the woman who has the power to destroy what little life I have left beating inside my chest.
“Hi,” a soft voice comes from behind me.
I was so wrapped up in my self-loathing I didn’t see or hear her come in. “Sky,” I say in a rush and stand quickly to face her. “Here.” She gives me a small smile as I pull out a chair and she sits in front of me, her hands down in her lap.
Just as beautiful as yesterday.
Once the shock settles in, I study her. Her blonde hair is shorter, reaching several inches above her shoulders and resting near her cheeks in soft waves. Fuck, how I wish I could brush it behind her ear like I used to. It was always the best excuse to touch her.
“Hi.” My voice catches, and I clear my throat. My social skills have always been rusty, but more so around her.
She inspects me as if unsure I’m even real.
Same, Shortcake.
Most days, I’m just one foot in front of the other with no clear destination. Today, I want to sprint in a linear fashion straight into her.
“Hi,” she repeats her earlier statement, swiping back her hair and pulling down her jean jacket cuffs in a nervous gesture.
“Coffee? They have a really good golden mix. Kind of like a breakfast blend. Sugar, milk? I’m positive you’re not a black coffee kind of girl.”
Surprise flits across her face, and then she nods. “Sure. Um, two sugars, light on the milk. Please. And thank you.”
The idea seems moot as I stride to the counter—to hope this nervous energy shakes its way out of me just as I tell the barista our order rife with caffeine.
While I wait, I watch her as she sits facing the window, her head propped in her palm.
She’s even more beautiful than I remember. A woman with years of experience and life behind her and plenty in front of her. None of which likely includes me. The thought resurfaces, dragging like rusty nails against my throat, reminding me that this pain is self-inflicted.
Honestly, I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking. If she regrets meeting me today. Probably wishes I never stepped foot into this town. There are days I feel the same, especially when my transgressions smack me in the face. I’m in Sky’s old neighborhood a lot, and each time, I’m haunted by that part of me. It’s why I’m doing what I’m doing. To make amends. To control the things I can, to overcome the things I can’t.
The mood shifts into an awkward dance when I pass Sky her coffee and a plate of scones. “In case you’re hungry. I remember you liked scones.”
She hums and takes her drink, careful to not let our fingers brush.
I repulse her now. The thought drenches my stomach in acid, and I swallow the bile.
The steam from my coffee swirls. The scent of the blueberry scones wafts. But nothing takes away the sheer uncertainty in Sky’s eyes as she finally looks at me. Those baby blues once held so much promise for us, so much trust. Love. The hollowness makes me ache with overwhelming guilt.
“I hear you own Snaps now.”
Far from the topic I want to discuss, but it’s a start. Baby steps.
“Colonel retired, and none of his kids wanted the business.” I shrug, playing with the handle of my mug while my coffee cools.
Sky sips hers, her gaze tracking me carefully.