“No, you’re not.” Mark’s words were a quiet rumble against my chest. “Is that the first time you’ve run into her?”
I nodded. “It’s just been a long time,” I tried and failed to explain. He’d obviously recognized Lo. I didn’t need to explain who she was to me. Apparently, he remembered. “It wasn’t the reunion I guess I’d been hoping for.”
The truth was, I hadn’t even known I was holding out hope where Lo was concerned. Of course, I’d thought about what it would be like to see her again. That daydream had been on repeat often in the early days.
Maybe now that reality had passed, shattering every imagined scenario, I could stop wondering. I could finally close the door on my friendship with Lo and all thosewhat-ifsandwhat-might-have-beens. I hadn’t realized how much hope had sneaked through by leaving that door propped open.
Yet her sudden appearance and swift rejection had been a pretty effective one-two punch. It wasn’t a knockout, but I was floundering on the ropes.
It was nice to have a steadying hand while I recovered.
“I’m sorry, Candace.” And then a weighty pause. “It’s hard to lose a friend, no matter how much time has passed. When you’ve been through a lot together, it takes a long time to tuck it all away. Forgetting is never really an option.”
Oh, God.Mark and Hannah.
I blew out a long breath and squeezed him tight.
My loss had been nothing compared to Mark’s. He’d lost a friend and a wife in Hannah Price. I didn’t know what had happened in their divorce or what their relationship was like now. It wasn’t my business. But it didn’t sound like they were on good terms. With so much between them—a marriage and a child—I couldn’t imagine returning to friendship or remaining amicable. Some situations were just too complicated and difficult.
Or maybe I was making assumptions all around. Maybe he wasn’t even talking about Hannah.
But I thought he must be.
The truth of his loss wasn’t owed to me. I was just grateful for his comfort, his friendship here and now.
Without offering any explanations, Mark pulled back. “We’ll try Apollo’s another day. Let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere I think you’ll like.”
Confused and disoriented by the shift in conversation, I regarded him warily. “Okay.”
Mark ducked inside the restaurant to let Magdaline know we’d reschedule our meeting. When he returned to my side, he held out his hand. “Keys?”
Fifteen quiet minutes later, we pulled into a small shopping center in Miller Creek. I eyed the building as Mark shifted the Passat into park.
“I think it was a burrito place back in high school.”
“I think you’re right,” I murmured, squinting to see the sign over the door.
It wasn’t a burrito place now.
At the realization, I turned my head to look at Mark. He was already waiting, bracing for my expression.
“You brought me to a pie shop?”
Mark’s thumb tapped a beat on the steering wheel, and he looked a little unsure. “I thought you might like it. I don’t know if they have Oreo mousse, but their apple pie is really good. And their sweet potato pie too. Well, everything I’ve tried here has been?—”
“Thank you,” I interrupted. My smile was on the wobbly side, but I was determined not to cry anymore today.
Mark had done such a nice thing for me. He’d remembered my favorite pie and brought me somewhere to make me feel better.
“This is perfect,” I assured him.
Pied Piper’s was bright and cheerful on the inside. I took in the picnic blanket–patterned tablecloths and the gallery wall jam-packed with mismatched frames of all sizes featuring illustrations of pastries and baked goods. It felt modern and fun, and I liked it immediately.
The employee behind the counter had pink hair and dark-rimmed glasses and welcomed us with a friendly smile and a bright hello.
Mark and I approached the dessert case, and I found an assortment of pies. My gaze lingered on the key lime and fruit pies, but then my attention found its way to a half-filled pie tin on the bottom row. The pale filling looked whipped and fluffy, but the glossy chocolate stripes on top were decadent and rich. I knew what I was ordering.
“I’ll have a slice of the Peanut Butter Paradise Pie, please,” I told the worker.
