Page 27 of Three Months Yesterday

Madison laughs softly, and I love the sound, even if it’s still a little watery with her tears. “You said you grew up in a small town similar to Stonebridge?”

“I did,” I practically shout, jumping at the easy topic. I may not love my hometown the way I once did, but it’s an easy thing for me to talk about. “In a little town called Harborview.” My tone quiets to match the world around us. “It’s about forty-five minutes outside Boston.”

She smiles, her eyes brightening with amusement, and I think this might be the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her tonight.

“Definitely some historic roots there.”

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I don’t remember much about the history, but I know it was founded in 1631 by two families,” I state with a little more pride than is probably needed. It’s a random fact, one that’s easy to find.

“Founded by two families? That’s a pretty unique fact to remember.”

“Well, some of the descendants still live in town and are relatively famous in their own right.” I lift a bent leg onto the swing and place an arm along the back, getting a little more comfortable in my seat.

“What does relatively famous mean?”

“Ryan Whitaker…” I pause, waiting to see if she recognizes the name.

Maybe that’s not fair of me, considering I’m well aware she knows him based on my own conversations with Ryan, but I’m curious what her reaction will be.

“Wyatt’s friend?” There’s nothing but recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah, but he’s also a pretty big deal in baseball. Winner of multiple Cy Young Awards, a few gold gloves, and a serious winning record.”

“Look, I might not be up to date on pop culture,” she teases, her eyes twinkling as they meet mine. “But I do pay attention to the people in my life. I don’t really know what the awards mean, but I know he was quite successful when he played.”

“Sorry.” I lift a hand in apology, the smile on my lips stretching wide. “Well, his family is one of the founders of Harborview. His sister is a successful journalist too. I don’t know her credentials as well as Ryan’s, but I know she’s won some prestigious awards in her line of work.”

“Harborview is the home of a famous musician, a famous baseball player, and a famous journalist? That’s pretty substantial for a small town.”

“And I haven’t even told you about Declan yet.”

It’s funny, I’ve never really thought about it that way, but she’s not wrong. Our small town of Harborview, home to about 2,500 residents, not only produced four people very successful in their line of work, but four people born within less than five years of each other.

“Wait.” Her eyes fall shut and she shakes her head, as if she’s clearing her mind. “Harborview,” she whispers to herself before opening her eyes to look at me again. “Declan Day, famous painter who now lives in Ashford Falls?”

“Right…” My brows furrow, curious how she knows that.

“It’s a long, complicated story.” She waves her hand dismissively before continuing. “But the basic gist is that my best friend is dating a guy from Ashford Falls, it’s roughly thirty miles away. I went with her to a party earlier this year. I met both Declan and his sister there.”

“What a small world we live in,” I mumble.

“Indeed,” she whispers.

Our eyes lock, and I swear time stands still. Why or how this keeps happening with us, I can’t explain, and I’m not sure I want to. I can’t remember the last time I had this unexplainable pull to someone else, and I really don’t want to lose it.

“So, now that we’re in each other’s lives, does that mean you’ll pay attention to my career? Maybe go home and look me up?” I tease, hoping with all my might it doesn’t freak her out.

The soft chuckle tells me it doesn’t. Maybe she feels this invisible force pulling us in too.

Her eyes fall to her knees. “Follow your career? Probably.” Her gaze lifts to meet mine again, a soft smile stretched across her lips. “Go home and look you up? Absolutely not.”

“Oh? Why not?” This might be the thing I’m most curious about. What’s stopping her from going home and doing what everyone else does when they find out exactly who I am?

“I don’t want to learn about you from the internet and social media.” She shrugs. “Most of that won’t be real and I want to get to know who you are, not who the world forced you to be.”

Words completely fail me. It’s been such a long time since I’ve met someone new who didn’t want or expect something specific from me. To meet this beautiful woman, who knows what she wants out of life and goes after it full throttle, and wants to get to know me for me is more than unexpected. It’s a gift I didn’t know I wanted or needed.

And suddenly, I want to do everything I can to make sure she stays part of my life. In any capacity.