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“And that’s the real reason you’re here. You hate being alone. Well, you wasted your time coming here. There’s no chance of us getting back together.”

Her gaze searched his, as though hunting for a sliver of uncertainty that she could pounce on. “You don’t mean that. Just give us a few days. You’ll see that we’re still good together.”

The muscles in his shoulders and neck were tense. He was getting a throbbing headache. Every time they’d had this sort of conversation—and it had been more than once—Mandi would just keep talking in circles. It was like she was trying to wear him down. Maybe that tactic had worked when they were married, but they weren’t married any longer.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just go.”

“Go where? I drove all of this way, and I’m tired.”

“Too bad.” He slipped past her into the room. He spotted her suitcase next to the bed. It didn’t even look like she’d had a chance to open it. Good. He grabbed the handle and turned to leave.

Mandi stepped in the middle of the doorway. She looked at him like she was the spider, and he was the fly. But there was no way he was stepping into her trap. He was older now, and he hoped a little wiser.

He stood out of reach of her. “Move.”

She pressed her hands to her rounded hips. “I don’t think you understand. I drove twenty-four hours to be with you.”

How many times did he have to reject her for her to get the message that they were over? He’d tried subtle messages. He’d tried direct. Nothing seemed to get through to her.

“Mandi, I don’t care if you drove across the country, we are divorced. We are never getting back together again.”

Her bottom lip stuck. “You don’t mean that.”

“But I do. You just don’t want to hear it. The only reason you want me back is because you and your boyfriend broke up. Give it some time. You’ll find a new guy.”

“I don’t want a new guy,” she whined. “I want you.”

“But I don’t want you. Now it’s time for you to go.”

She didn’t respond, as though she were running out of things to say. He hoped that was a good sign.

“Fine.” She huffed. “I don’t like this place anyway. It’s too...old.”

And with that she turned and walked away, leaving him to deal with her luggage. He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he couldn’t. He knew from past experience that this wasn’t the last time he’d have to deal with her throwing herself at him—at least until she found someone else to marry her.

As they made their way down the stairs, he looked around for Leah, but she was nowhere to be seen. He knew he was in big trouble with her. He didn’t know how he was going to fix it, but he was going to try.

After he got Mandi into her car and watched to make sure she got out of the driveway, he went back in the inn. He looked all around for Leah and Mochi; he didn’t find either of them. They must be back at the cottage.

He hurried out the back door. He took long, quick strides along the sidewalk. And then he was knocking on the door with gentle but rapid knocks. He heard Mochi barking, so he knew they were in there. The question was whether or not Leah would answer the door.

He felt like this was a profound moment in his life—like what was said next and how it ended would change his life forever. He knew he hadn’t handled things correctly. If only Leah would give him a chance to explain, maybe she would understand. He could only hope.

He knocked again. “Leah, please open up.”

Mochi barked louder, like she was standing on the other side of the door from him. Shaun spread his arms and pressed his palms against the doorframe. He hung his head low. “Leah, please. At least hear me out.”

As time ticked away, he realized she wasn’t ready to hear him. Maybe that was fair. He turned and started to walk away. He’d taken no more than three steps when he heard the door open. He paused.

When he heard her call out his name, he turned around. He saw the pain in Leah’s eyes. He also saw the firm line of her lips. She was angry with him. He could deal with that. But it was the distrust in her eyes that hurt the most.

She didn’t want to hear his excuses.

Leah remembered how her mother always had excuses of why she wouldn’t talk about the past. In Leah’s experience, excuses weren’t worth the air used to utter them.

Mochi rushed out the door and jumped up on Shaun. She wanted to tell Mochi that he was a bad guy, but she couldn’t come between a man and his dog.

“Before you say anything,” she said, “I didn’t open the door to hear whatever it is you want to say.”