Page 5 of When We Are Complete
“Great!” She reaches across the space between us, squeezing my hand. “Thank you so much.”
But the sweetness of being needed is chased by a cold splash of reality—Jake will be there. He’s one of Patrick’s best friends, and the thought of seeing him again so soon sends my thoughts into a spin.
As usual, Nora seems to pick up on exactly what’s running through my head. “You’re worried about seeing Jake, aren’t you?”
I sigh, shrugging as though it’s no big deal. “I mean, it’s inevitable, right? Harbor’s Edge isn’t exactly huge. I was going to bump into him eventually. And it’s been a long time. A very long time. I honestly couldn't care less if he’s there.”
“Oh, please.” Nora gives me one of her mischievous grins. “Don’t even try pretending you’re not curious to see him again.” She sinks deeper into the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, her gaze fixed on me.
“That part of my life is over. Thank god. I never think about him. Well, hardly ever.” I smooth down the edge of a throw pillow, avoiding her eyes, trying to convince myself as much as her.
She arches a brow. “But just imagine—what if he looks at you now and realizes what he gave up? What if he wants a second chance?”
I let out a laugh. “I’ll never go there again. Trust me.”
She taps her chin thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing like she’s piecing together a delicious rumor. “He’s been divorced from Jenny for a long time. I bet he’s spent years pining after you.”
“I highly doubt that.” My thoughts go places I don’t want them to go—his grin, the way he’d pull me in close and make me laugh when no one else could. My heart hitches. Why did I agree to go to the wedding? This has disaster written all over it.
Nora gives me a sly look. “Well, don’t worry. You’re going to look so fantastic. The only awkward part will be him realizing what a huge mistake he made.”
I force a smile. “Let’s not talk about it. It’ll be fine.”
“It will be. Want a cup of tea? I’m going to put the kettle on.”
“Yes, please.” I pull my feet up onto the sofa, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to shake the unsettled feeling that’s settled over me.
Nora gets up and walks to the kitchen with the rest of the ice cream, while I stand and move to the window, my gaze drifting out over the harbor visible through the trees in the front yard. The moonlight dances silver on the water, a view I’ve looked at thousands of times from a thousand different vantage points along Main Street and the boardwalk.
It’s weird how life brings us back to places we thought we’d left behind. Back to the people we left behind.
Jake Tanner.Of course, I knew I’d run into him at some point, but now that it’s actually happening? I thought I was ready to face my past, to finally figure out who I am and where I’m going.
But I didn’t count on having to come face to face with my biggest mistake so soon. Even if I can’t keep him out of my head.
The kettle whistles, a sharp sound breaking through the silence. I close my eyes for a second, steeling myself. Whateverhappens at this wedding, I can handle it. I’ll be there for Nora. And as for Jake?
I’ll face him, too. No turning back now.
Chapter 3
Jake
“Come on,Adele, you can’t skip school again.” I try to keep my voice calm, though I spend more time talking to the stubborn barrier of her bedroom door than to my daughter these days.
Tiger, Adele’s ginger cat, weaves uneasily between my legs, his plaintive meow adding to the growing tension. He knows something’s wrong—he always does.
“Leave me alone, Dad!” Her voice comes back sharp, angry.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Another morning, another battle I don’t know how to win. As much as I want to fix everything for her, there are some things beyond my expertise.
Tiger seems to decide his comfort is needed elsewhere, and trots off down the hall, tail held high and confident. I envy him that simple certainty. Left alone, I lean my forehead against the cool wood of Adele’s door.
The years peel back like old wallpaper, and I’m eight years old again, standing in our kitchen. My father, silent at the table, studies another bill—unpaid and unwelcome. Its whiteedges stand out against the scarred wood. My mother scrubs an already clean dish, her apron wet, trying not to let me see her cry.
That feeling—the helplessness, the gnawing fear that we were always on the edge of losing everything—clings to me, even now. I swore to myself that Adele would never feel that kind of fear, that I’d always give her everything she needed.
But here I am, standing outside her door, unable to reach her, facing a problem I can’t fix.