Page 138 of In Your Wake

I’m sure I can handle this, with or without Mitch, and fake a tight smile, but deep down, I wish I didn’t have to fake it.

I wish Mitch were here.

30

No More Games

Mitch

This trip back to Oakwhite is drastically different from the last one, since this time I’m staying for good.

To think that a little over a month ago, I couldn’t wait to get out of here, and now, as I drive along Main Street, seeing signs of fall, I’m humming to myself and am… happy.

But I’m also incredibly nervous to see Max again.

She texted me a few days ago, asking if I could stop in to see her while I was in town helping my mom move. It likely has to do with the inn. Still, we left things awkward between us, and I have no clue what’s about to happen or what is so important she couldn’t tell me over the phone.

The moment I see her working in the inn’s garden, all my concerns fade. She’s on her knees, wearing a plaid shirt under some old jean overalls with her hair braided into what I’d call her trademark two-pigtails. The sight settles into me like a warm breeze, welcoming me like a hug.

“Maxine?” I call out, the name feeling like honey on my tongue.

With her back to me, she tenses up. She drops her tiny shovel and takes off her gloves before glancing over her shoulder.

Blocking the sun from her eyes with her hand, she stands up and smiles, and for a few seconds, I’m stunned. Never in a million years did I expect her to greet me with a smile, but it’s so bright and cheerful, it damn near makes her look like she’s glowing.

“Hey,” she says, walking toward me. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m great. Really great.” She tucks her hands into her back pockets, then quickly takes them out and brings them to her front, lacing her fingers together. Everything about her, from her cheerfulness to her fidgeting, tells me something’s off.

“So, the inn’s pretty busy?” I ask, nodding over my shoulder. “I had to park on the street.”

Her eyes shine with pride and her smile gets wider. “It’s a really busy weekend. Thankfully, the weather’s been holding up, so guests are still floating into town.”

The veranda behind us is filled with guests, and she points off to her right where we put a large patio before I left. Now, it’s surrounded with flowers and bushes.

“People love the garden. And we’re booked for a few weddings.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, it is. Almost like we invested some money and fixed it up or something,” she jokes with a shrug.

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad it’s doing so well.”

Small dimples frame her smile, and she looks down at her feet. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I wave away her surprising gratitude. “I’m sure you could have. You’re good at everything you put your mind to.”

She lets out a dry laugh, then rolls her eyes. “Okay, are we done with this?”

“With what?”

“The small talk. It’s like we’re acting.”

“Acting?”

“Like we’re pretending that everything is hunky-dory between us.” She tucks her lips, taking a deep inhale through her nose, as if readying herself. “You realize that the way you left was shitty, right?”