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And it’s my greatest strength. It’s my true superpower.
Feeling the rumble of thunder, I exit the café and make it halfway to my car when I feel the air still. I search the parking lot and come up empty before giving myself a second to rationalize the static is nothing but the coming storm. I bat away the part of me that wants to mourn in disappointment. I’ve done enough of that. My tears have long since dried up.
I’m living the life I chose—day by day. No expectations, little responsibility. No ambitious quest, no fight with my conscience. Simple. Uncomplicated. A life I refuse to waste looking in the rearview. I took a monotonous role not to pay penance, but for peace of mind and the ability to think about what I want moving forward. I want to be okay with simplicity, the kind that entails honest work and aching feet. It’s humbling if anything, and for the first time, it makes sense to me. I want to smile while doing it.
And some days—most days—I do.
I don’t begrudge my past anymore for the future I have. It’s wide open, but for now, I’m keeping it simple until I come up with a different plan. Purse strapped over my shoulder, I take strides toward my car and climb in. Buckling in, I frown when I see the window on the passenger side is rolled down. I don’t remember leaving it that way. Thankful I missed the storm, I turn the engine over. I jump back in my seat when “K.” by Cigarettes After Sex bursts through the speakers.
I haven’t heard it in years, not since the day I blasted it out in the woods…
I jump out of the Camaro and do a three-sixty, scanning the parking lot.
“Only one other has a key to this car, and it won’t ever be used.”
No. No. No.
The haunting melody drifts through the window of the idling car, bringing me back to a day where my life forever changed.
Frantically, I search the parking lot again and come up empty. I did not and would not have had that song playing. I peek in to see it’s connected to Bluetooth and pull out my phone furiously, closing out my apps, but the song continues to play. It’s not my phone it’s connected to. I press my hands to the hood. Warm.
Is this another game?
I can’t stomach anymore.
I laid us to rest—the past. I left. I did what he asked. What the hell is the point of this? I scan the small shopping center again, and it’s then I spot Tobias stepping out of the A & P, a grocery bag in his hands. The sight of him in dark jeans and a T-shirt is foreign but electrifying. His posture is relaxed, but his brows are drawn in concentration. I know it the minute he realizes I’m standing there, and he tenses and stops mid-step, a second before his amber eyes lift to mine.
He rakes me from head to foot as I cross my arms and whistle.
“Wow. Not only did you steal the car for a joyride, but you decided to go grocery shopping after? You’ve got some balls on you, and your arrogance knows no bounds.”
I don’t miss the twitch of a smile as he approaches, and then it’s gone. I tear my eyes away, my pride only taking me so far. He’s so fucking beautiful, and in a way that snatches sanity. I can’t afford to lose an ounce more.
“I knew you took it.”
“It was a parting gift from Sean. And rightfully yours if you want it, but please…” I rasp out hoarsely. “Don’t take it.”
“I get my way, no matter what. You know that, and you weren’t supposed to get off until four.”
“Well, I took off early, and I guess I shouldn’t put it past you to snake the one possession I care about.” I duck into the Camaro and kill it, slamming the door after retrieving the key and my purse. All yours. Now I really do hate you. Are you happy?”
“No. Not at all. You’re a waitress, who gave up millions of dollars and are living in another bum fucked town in the middle of nowhere, Virginia. You think that makes me happy?”
“I don’t care what that makes you. I’m happy. I love this town. And I’m not penniless. I own that café and the house I’m living in. You think I’m really dumb enough to give away every cent? I grew up poor. I’ll never be that damned generous.”
Confusion flits over his features. “You own it?”
“Technically, my mother does.”
“Why Meggie’s?”
I damn near laugh at the fact that he hasn’t put it together.
Men.
“It’s a long story.”
He frowns. “Do I know it?”
