Being curious about her had led him into repeated trouble. This time, he couldn’t and wouldn’t chase after her. He had his own problems and work to attend to. If he assumed the role of villain in her life to protect her from the truth, he would deal with the fallout. He couldn’t unburden himself with honesty without inflicting pain.
For years, he’d been treading water in the icy lake. He had to stop. He’d reach the moment of either taking a full stroke toward the shore or letting go and sinking to the bottom. He couldn’t stay in place any longer.
Back at the desk, he dialed the phone number he’d accidentally memorized over the past few weeks. Tapping a pen rapidly against the desktop didn’t soothe him. Ashley returned, and a sudden tidal wave of emotions hit him.
“Boyd Printing,” Seth answered. “How may I assist you today?”
“Seth, hi. It’s Christopher Lewis at the Inn.”
“Oh, good morning. How are you?”
Christopher smiled. Seth was a remarkably cheerful person. He was an optimist gliding from one day to the next. If he ever got upset, he never showed it. He rolled with the punches with his trademark good humor. “I’m well. Listen. The menus aren’t quite right.”
“Really?”
“Looks like the margins are off by an inch. We’re nearly there. Can you rerun them?”
“I sure am sorry. I thought I nailed it this time.”
“Me, too,” Christopher said. After all the back and forth, he would usually be out of patience. But not with Seth. Getting angry with him was like raging at a dog. It served no purpose other than to show him he needed empathy. “Do you think you can run them this week? I want to get the new menus out as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely. I’m finishing up another round of stickers today and plotting Soupy sightings on a map. But I’ll add this to the list.”
Pointing out that his side hustles barely broke even while the contract with his major customer kept his business afloat was also an exercise in futility. Seth operated on his own schedule. Christopher knew better than to explain his side of things again. Seth was one of his few allies in town, and alienating him wasn’t an option. Instead of looking for problems, Christopher focused on the positive of Seth’s passion project, a lake monster legend for the community. “How is Soupy? Any new sightings?”
“None lately.” Seth sighed. “But the Prims haven’t been out on the lake too much this year. I expect we’ll be hearing about him soon. Zach is going to bring up the legend with his customers. I think once the idea spreads, it’ll take off from there.”
Christopher frowned. Should he do the same? Most of the Inn’s tourists returned year after year. They’d notice something amiss on the water. But he was never sure how to explain. Soupy was Seth’s very own Loch Ness monster. While Christopher couldn’t understand how the creature existed, he appreciated the creative and industrious spirit that dreamt up the idea.
His world was black and white. This or that. Rational. Logical. He had always been drawn to imaginative, romantic types who understood the world on a completely different level.
He’d missed the wild fantasies of one particular mind in person. For too long, Seth had been the only visionary in town. Christopher supported anyone with a big plan. “Keep me posted.”
“About the menus?” Seth asked.
Christopher smiled to himself. “And Soupy.”
“Okay. Have a great day,” Seth said.
“Bye, Seth.” Christopher hung up the receiver, refraining from any sort of breathy exclamations until the call ended. At least he could count out Seth as a potential love interest for his wife.
He cradled his heavy head in his hands, digging his elbows into the desktop. His wife. Had he missed her? If he ran to the window now, could he catch a glimpse?
He couldn’t. She came back to claim his hard work. She’d run the Inn out of business with her whims. He hadn’t given everything he had to let her ruin the town. Enough with feeling sorry for himself.
He grabbed his tablet, flipped back the cover, and unlocked the screen. In a few swipes, he brought up Zach Jenkins’ blog. While the website was almost solely dedicated to slandering Christopher, he couldn’t stop himself from checking every day, several times. He probably had an excellent case for a libel suit. But he wasn’t into censorship, especially when silencing his enemies would only embolden them to work in secret.
He’d rather see someone’s ugly behavior so he could act accordingly, rather than think he had friends.
The blog had been updated in the last hour and was its usual diatribe about the community’s ruin because of the Inn. Christopher’s heartbeat slowed. No mention of his wife.
Wherever she went, she hadn’t run off into Zach’s arms. Good. That was something, at least. If he racked his brain, he didn’t remember the few years older Zach ever paying Ashley any attention and vice versa. But only a few appropriately aged suitors lurked in Loon Lake. And he felt confident she wouldn’t be interested in Seth. Only one dreamer per relationship seemed a solid rule for success.
It had never been him. He wasn’t creative or witty. Not like her. She shined so brightly. Her leaving was inevitable.
He stayed. His strength was his character. He was steadfast. Years ago, she might not have said the words, but she delivered an ultimatum by leaving.
While he wasn’t the cleverest, he wasn’t a fool. As a rule, he learned to listen and consider. Then he’d plan and execute. When Xavier had come to Christopher for help, he’d had to assist. He’d shielded her from the truth and couldn’t tell her now—justifying his actions—without causing more pain.
