Page 113 of Prime Time Romance

He sits down on my couch and stares for a moment at the television screen. “It was my happy place too, Carson’s Cove,” he says to me. “Five beautiful years. They were the best of my life. I was relevant. People recognized me. There was a whole website dedicated to me. It even had a newsletter.”

He takes a wistful bite of his doughnut.

“But then it ended, and everyone moved on to bigger and better, and I was left stuck. It was supposed to be my big break. Working on Carson’s Cove should have propelled me to teen drama fame, but I never got credit for my parts. I couldn’t get another job. My own happy ending never happened.”

My ice heart melts, just a fraction, because I can relate to the feeling—just not the whole altering-reality-to-deal-with-it.

“But your speech made me think,” he continues, “that I’ve been stuck in the past, and it’s high time I moved on with my life too.”

Suddenly the last twenty-four hours make a lot more sense.

“So that’s why I’m home? You changed your mind?”

Sheldon, however, shakes his head. “I wasn’t lying when I told you the magic was bigger than me. You got home because you fulfilled your wish. You gave Sloan the ending she deserves.”

A happily independent woman with a true best friend, running her sundress empire and drinking strawberry wine and dancing on the weekends.

She may be a fictional character, but it makes me feel better to know that maybe somewhere in some parallel slip in time, she’s living her best life.

“So you just came here to clear the air between us?” I ask Sheldon.

He stands. “Am I forgiven?”

He holds his arms out for a hug. I pick up the doughnut box and shove it into his hands. “You’re back in the real world, buddy. You want my forgiveness? You need to earn it.”

I walk to the front door and hold it open. Sheldon sulks past me, and as he steps onto the front stoop, I notice a bright-red Mini Cooper in the street.

“Wait!” I call after him.

He turns.

“Is that your car?” I point at the Mini.

His face reddens. “Technically…no.”

I hold out my hand. “If you give me the keys right now, I’ll consider it a significant step toward reconciliation.”

His face lights up as he reaches into his pocket and then tosses them to me. “Where are we going?”

“I am going. This is a solo mission.”

I run across the street and climb into the familiar front seat.

“Can you at least drop me off at the subway?” Sheldon calls as I pull a U-turn.

“Sorry,” I shout at him through the open window. “No time. I’m going to get my happily ever after.”

35

Brynn

It’s lunch by the time I make it to Orillia, thanks to Toronto traffic and the slew of Torontonians heading north to cottage country.

The town is busy by the time I cruise in.

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been here, and as I navigate the Mini down the main street, I’m struck by how much it reminds me of Carson’s Cove. The quaint independent storefronts and historic buildings boast that small-town, picturesque vibe that I’ve always loved.

It takes me two tries to find the side street where Buddy’s is located, then a full twenty minutes to find parking. I’m so preoccupied with logistics that I don’t fully notice the butterflies in my stomach, which have multiplied exponentially, until I’m standing in front of the blue-painted bar door, twisting the knob, and finding it unlocked.