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Emma closed the dog food bag and took inventory of her current dog treat supplies. She realized she needed to run to the store and grab more pumpkin puree and a few jars of all-natural peanut butter. After double-checking the back door, ensuring it was locked, she reached down and gave Riley a head scratch.
“I’ll be home soon. Momma’s gonna miss you. Be a good boy, okay?”
Riley whined and plopped himself down by the door. Emma grabbed her keys, locked the front door behind her, and walked out to the car.
After setting her purse down in the passenger seat, she paused to admire the simple beauty of the cottage. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned her life: single, in her forties, and living paycheck to paycheck. But nothing good would come from dwelling on the “should’ves” or “could’ves” of life, she told herself.
Things will work themselves out.
Her attention shot over to the window where Riley was peeking through the sage curtains. A wisp of a smile touched her face as she blew him a kiss and waved before pulling out of the driveway onto the main road.
After Emma pulled into the parking lot, she parked and quick-stepped inside. The faint hum of conversations filled the supermarket, underscored by the occasional clatter of a dropped can, the beep of the checkout scanners, and the soft rustling of plastic bags being stuffed. Making her way to the baking aisle, the inviting scent of freshly baked bread teased her senses.
On trips like this in the past, she’d end up coming home with two armfuls of bags stuffed with things that weren’t on the list. But since the divorce, finances were tight, making her more budget conscious and only buying what was needed for now. She had even followed the supermarket’s Facebook page to receive coupons and updates about their newest sales. Years ago, she never would’ve imagined herself being so thrifty, but was proud of how quickly she had adjusted.
As she headed for the checkout line, she was relieved to see all the lines were open, pushing the droves of people through. The store manager paced between the registers, using his approval card here and there, clearing out the lines.
One cashier waved Emma down. “Ma’am, I’m open over here.”
She walked over, setting her items on the checkout counter, and dug through her purse for her store rewards card. Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind her, “Emma? Is that you?”
Emma froze. A chill ran down her spine. The voice belonged to the one person she thought, or rather had hoped, she would never see again, and yet—
She sucked in a breath and turned to face him.
“I thought that was you, Em.”
Emma felt as if she’d seen a ghost. It had been almost thirty years since she had seen him, but time had not been kind. His hair was now gray, and his belly had grown round, showing through his Hadley Cove Police Department uniform.
“That’ll be fourteen fifty-three, ma’am.”
Emma blinked, her thoughts snapping back to the present. She turned to the checkout counter. “Oh, of course.” Her fingers, though trembling, managed a semblance of speed as she pulled a twenty from her wallet and extended it to the cashier. “Just...just please take it. I’ve got to go.”
Despite the years that had passed, Emma struggled to hold back tears as she confronted the man who had caused her so much pain. She wondered if he saw the hurt in her eyes, the anger and disappointment still simmering beneath the surface.
Paul’s eyes darted away, then back to hers. “Emma, I’m sorry about the way I left,” he said. “It took me a few years to get my life back together.”
A few years? Try almost three decades.
She clenched her shopping bags tighter, feeling the edges dig into her palm, and forced a smile. “Good for you, Paul. I’ll see you around, or actually, I’d rather not.”
She spun on her heel and moved quickly, her feet carrying her toward the exit with purpose. Paul trailed behind. “Wait, Emma! Can we talk?” He pointed to his badge. “I just got my old job back on the force and I’m here to stay this time. I can see you’re in a hurry right now, but maybe I can get your number and we could meet for coffee? Things have changed. I’ve changed. I promise.”
Emma stopped and turned to face him with a scorching glare. “You promise? Oh, I’ve heard that line before. And you want to meet for coffee? Really, just like that? Like nothing ever happened. You really don’t get it, do you? You’ve been dead to me for years now.”
Paul winced. “I know I hurt you, sweetheart. But I’m here now to make up for it—”
“Don’t call me sweetheart!” she yelled, then stormed out of the store and over to her car.
Paul was close on her heels. “Please give me another chance, Em. I messed up at being your dad, but I want to make it right. I did and said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, and for that, I’ll always be sorry.”
She popped her trunk, placing the bags inside. “Well, thanks for your ‘apology,’” Emma said, her hands making air quotes, “but I don’t need to hear it. I don’t want it. You can keep it, for all I care.”
Paul let out a deflated sigh, putting his hands in his pockets. He looked down, then back up to her. “Are you sure I can’t just have your number? Maybe we can talk when you’ve had time to think about it—”
“No, Paul. I don’t want to give you my number and I don’t want to talk. Ever.”
She turned around to open her trunk, fighting back tears as her dad persisted. She truly thought she’d never see him again, and now here he was, trying to weasel his way back into her life.
