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His eyes soften. “Fine.” With Chloe’s hand clutched in his, they turn for the door. The two of them stand on the sidewalk while I lock up. “Hope Town, you remember where it is?” he asks.
He’s not trying to be a dick, but the question stings all the same. “I know the way,” I assure him.
With a nod, he motions for me to walk with them. He and Chloe are parked next to me. He waits until I’m buckled in before lifting Chloe into the back seat of his truck. I watch them through my tinted windows as he talks to her, looking in his rearview mirror. Once he’s satisfied, I’m assuming that she’s all buckled in, he gives his horn a quick beep. I take that as my cue to go. He always was protective, making sure I got home safe, opening doors for me, things like that. I wonder if he’s still that same man? Has time changed him? From my limited interaction, my guess is no. If anything, it’s made him even more protective, especially now that he’s a father.
The drive is a short one, and luckily there are only two other cars in the parking lot when we pull in. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with Sebastian or his daughter, but the rumor mill is not something I’m looking forward to. I’m sure that’s the last thing he wants his daughter to hear either.
“Daddy, can I play the games?” Chloe asks as he lifts her from the truck.
“After you eat all of your dinner.” He settles her on his hip and places his hand on the small of my back, leading us into the restaurant.
I have to blink back the tears that threaten to spill. This could have been our life. Chloe could have been our little girl. We planned to have at least three, and all before we were thirty. We wanted to be able to be young and keep up with them. My thirty-second birthday was over three months ago. Just another reminder of something we lost by my leaving town.
Once we’re inside, Sebastian leads us to a quiet booth in the back corner. It sits directly next to the games, so it more than likely won’t be quiet for long. “This way I can watch her,” he explains. Did I forget to mention, this is also the booth we used to snag any chance we could when we were dating? The games were in the front of the restaurant at that time, and this was truly the quietest secluded table here. We would snuggle on one side of the booth and talk about where our life was going. We were so young and so in love.
“Hi, welcome to Hope Town Pizza,” a teenage girl greets us once we’re settled. “Tonight’s special is a large three-topping with breadsticks.”
“You good with just cheese and pepperoni?” he asks me.
“That’s perfect.” I don’t mention that I’ve not eaten a slice of pizza since the day I left town. I’ve heard NY style pizza is great, but as a dancer, I’m constantly watching my weight. Even after Tiffany took my place, and I was resting my ankle, I counted every calorie. I never stopped the habit. Not to mention, I need to decide what to do with my career. I’m dancing again, but just to stay in shape. I’ve not been back to the company, not with Leonard and Tiffany flaunting their budding relationship. I thought that I missed dancing, being in the spotlight on stage. I convinced myself I would come home, see my family, and then go back. However, I’ve been back in Hope for three days and spending time with my parents, and now this, visiting my old stomping grounds, I’m not so sure I missed dancing as much as I thought I did.
“You’re miles away,” Sebastian says, placing his hand over mine. I glance to his side, and he nods toward the games. “I caved,” he says with a shrug. “Penny for your thoughts.” He keeps his hand over mine.
“I thought I missed it,” I blurt. “After my injury, I thought I wanted to go back.”
“And now?”
“I miss home.” I miss you.
“I thought New York was home?” Those hazel eyes of his bore into mine.
“I lived there, but this place, this town, it will always be home to me.” You will always be home to me. I want to say the words, but that’s not fair to him. He has a life here. He’s settled. He doesn’t need me coming in and making things messy.
“There is something special about this town,” he muses.
“Tell me about you,” I say, removing my hand from under his when the waitress drops off our drinks. She sets a glass of water in front of me, as well as a glass of root beer.
