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“Yeah. He’s likely up, wondering where I am. And whether you like it or not, I owe you dinner, probably multiple ones.”

I tipped my head. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Then she was jogging off and I took a minute to appreciate the view before continuing my walk around the square. As I made my way back to the police station, I was almost certain I saw the mayor leaving the only apartment building in town near the covered bridge. My view was from a little too far to be sure if Darcy was telling the truth. But if that was him, it made sense.

Chapter 5

Emma

For the first time in days, I felt relieved. Aiden had taken me seriously. It had been worth sneaking out of the gathering at my house after the funeral to see him. It had felt like I couldn’t breathe with everyone around. Even Evan. When I’d returned, there had been the making of a search party ready to look for me. I told them I just needed air, and they accepted my excuse.

Of course, Jessie and Alana had warned people off. Evan, however, had been suspicious. We’d fought about it, and I’d shut the door to my room in his face. I’d left this morning before he was up. Was I avoiding him?

The old Victorian house my mother dreamed of owning and eventually did was quiet. Legend had it that the man who built the charming romantic bridge out in the woods had a hand in designing the home. My father bought it for a song, as no one had lived in it for years. Until he died, he’d been renovating for my mother long after her death, knowing what the house meant to her.

Could I really sell it? I asked myself as I jogged up the stairs straight to the bathroom and removed my clothes before getting in the shower.

I’d done a good job at holding in my emotions while talking to Aiden, but it was still too fresh. How could my father be gone? Tears streamed down my face when the curtain was shoved aside. I shrieked before realizing it was Evan.

He had a smirk and was starting to disrobe.

“What are you doing?” I asked. My question came out sharper than I meant it to.

He frowned. “I wanted to spend a little alone time with my fiancée.”

“I’m not in the mood for sex.”

“Jesus, Emma. I’ve been here for over a week and you’ve barely let me touch you.”

Warm water was wasted as I continued our standoff. “I don’t know Evan. You came here to meet my father and I warned you about his rules. He dies and all you can think about is screwing me. I think you should go home.”

“He’s dead. Nothing can change that.”

Rage heated my cheeks. “Now I’m not asking, I’m telling you to get the hell out of my house.”

He snapped back, “Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult. I won’t wait forever.” He spun on his heels and slammed the bathroom door before stomping down the stairs.

I covered my face in my hands and cried as a mixture of sadness and anger engulfed me. This shouldn’t be happening. I couldn’t imagine getting married now. Who would walk me down the aisle? I stayed in the shower until the water went completely cold. Then I towel-dried my hair and wrapped a fluffy robe around myself. I padded down the stairs and checked the room Evan had been using. His things were gone and for the second time today, I felt relieved. I checked for his car, and it was gone too.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Jessie.

She picked up, sounding groggy.

“Did I wake you?” I asked.

“Yes, but it’s fine. What’s going on?”

“Did I wake the Doc too?” From what I knew, they were shacking up.

“No, he’s already up. I smell coffee.”

“Does the smell make you sick?” I asked, knowing she was pregnant.

“Not so far.”

“What has you up so early?”

“I can’t sleep these days. Though I might sleep better now that I kicked Evan out.”

“You didn’t,” she said, sounding more awake.

“I don’t know. The idea of having sex with him makes my skin crawl.”

“He wants to bump uglies?”

“Exactly, and all I can think about is the last conversation I had with my father was because Evan didn’t want to follow Dad’s ‘no sex in his house until we get married’ rule. And I…” I stopped because my voice cracked, and I knew my friends were tired of hearing me cry.

“You know it’s okay, right?”

“What’s okay?”

“To be sad. No one expects you to be happy now, tomorrow, or months from now. You can cry on my shoulder whenever you need. I’ll likely cry with you. My hormones are insane. Plus, I loved your dad. He was one of the good ones.”

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