They were both consumed with work, new work that required all their effort and energy. There were limitations that came with that, and boundaries, too. “Starting up a business, taking over a business—we’re both in the same boat with that. It doesn’t leave much for anything else.”
“It’s nice to have someone who understands that.”
He knew Holly didn’t seem to have any friends outside the inn, though he’d wondered about a personal life. He also knew she’d have no trouble if she had the time or desire for one. It seemed timing was tripping them up, once more.
“So what happened?” Holly asked, pulling her chair in closer.
“To what?”
“To you. Your marriage.”Here we go, he thought. He’d been waiting for it, and he was ready.
There was nothing to hide, no big ugly secret. “We were married to our careers more than each other,” he said simply. “Laura was great, but we weren’t great together.”
When Holly looked skeptical, he went on. “I realized all our friends were getting pregnant and starting families. Laura started to hint. But I didn’t want that,” he admitted.
Holly sat back. “You don’t want a family?”
“I didn’t with her.”
As he spoke, Ben realized this all may have been a mistake. Being out with Holly, taking her on afirstdate. Examining their shared past and also their separate ones. He was going back to Providence. His life and work was there, and now, hers was here.
“It broke my heart,” she said suddenly. “That day at the dock, when you told me you’d met someone.” Her gaze slid away from his.
“Holls. I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
She held up a hand. “Don’t be. It sounds silly, especially now. We’d both been seeing other people and doing our own things. I guess deep down I always thought that somehow we’d circle back to each other. You know?”
The truth was, Ben did know. The thought of them ending up together had occurred to him, on and off over the years. But then he went to law school, where he met Laura, and then they both got jobs in Providence, and moved in together. His life seemed to unfold for him, without effort or thought, and soon they’d arrived at that stage where friends were getting married and buying houses, and so that seemed like the next logical step for them, too. It was like riding a train that stopped at each station, and because the ride was comfortable, Ben just stayed on. He didn’t give much thought to the final destination.
By then the years had slipped between him and Holly, so that she seemed a distant memory; an old friend he’d always have in the background. He wished he’d thought harder about his choices then. He wished he’d looked at her a little harder, too. All that time, she was right there.
“I wonder what would have happened if we’d reconnected sooner,” he said now.
Holly shrugged. “Timing,” she said, taking a sip of her beer, “can be friend or foe.”
As they talked, a band had set up. They listened to the first set, Ben enjoying how into the music she got.
When the pitcher was empty Holly got up. “Time to go?” he asked.
“I’m getting us another.” She winked. “My treat.”
He laughed, taken aback. She’d started the night yawning and apologizing for it. Now she seemed to be just getting started. Ben found it hard to listen when she talked, he was so taken. Her cheeks were glowing, and every time she laughed she tilted her head in a way that caused her blond hair to spill over her shoulder. He wanted to kiss her. But he hadn’t told her about Providence yet. He was about to say something, when a new song started. It was “Brown Eyed Girl.” Holly hopped up, and pulled him onto the floor. As others with the same thought joined them in the small space by the band, the crowd pushed them together. Holly threw her arms around his neck and sang aloud to the lyrics. The beer and the night and the girl had gotten to him, and Ben found himself pulled in.
Hours later, they walked down Main, arm in arm. Though they’d switched to water at his suggestion, Holly was still punchy. While they waited to cross the street, she rested her head against his shoulder, and the weight of her was familiar and comforting.
The ride back to the inn, Holly hummed softly in the passenger seat. “What a night,” she said, rolling down the car window. They passed through quiet neighborhoods in the charminglittle grid behind Main, and up toward Shore Road. At the crest, they rolled to a stop at the sign, and the sky stretched out before them. A full moon had risen, and it spilled onto Chatham Harbor, tinging all the fishing boats in gold. “Holls,” Ben said, nudging her gently. “Look at that.”
Holly was sound asleep. Ben drove home extra slow, so as not to disturb her. When he pulled into the horseshoe drive, he cut the engine and looked over at her. There was the same ski slope nose that used to burn every summer, but gone was any other evidence of the scrappy little girl he’d chased down the beach. The woman in his passenger seat was luminous, from the graceful curve of her neck to the full lips that still spouted sass when she felt like it. “Rise and shine,” he whispered.
Holly stirred and blinked. “Oh gosh. I’m home already?”
“You are, Cinderella.”
She smiled. “Thank you for tonight.”
“The pleasure was mine.” Ben hurried around the side of the car to get her door. When he helped her out, Holly wobbled. “Let me walk you in.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, taking a lurching step toward the porch.
