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Six
“I can’t believe something like this could happen in Harlow.”
Sarah blinked and shook her head at Ally Egan’s voice, that voice drowning out the fevered chatter at Maynard’s Tavern and the jangle of thoughts clouding her mind. Ally, four years younger than Sarah, cradled a droplet-covered glass of lemonade between her palms, her elbows digging into the bar, while her lowered pale blue gaze half-hid under her flop of short ice-blond hair.
“Ally, tragedy doesn’t always strike based on where you live.” Sarah cleared her throat, the hard ball of friction in there not shifting. Or maybe that ball consisted of guilt, more than anything that could be easily moved.
Two days since the soiree and her hot night with Dean. He’d left her house early afternoon the next day, and she hadn’t even gotten his full name, much less heard from him since—not that she wanted any other ending.
Still, while she’d spent her post-soiree morning sharing a shower with a tall, hot, mystery man, Blaine’s world literally went up in flames. So of course, as per local tradition whenever anything dramatic happened, much of Harlow converged on Maynard’s tonight to unload their shock and gossip.
“I just feel bad for Emilia.” Ally shook her head, still not lifting her gaze from the bar counter. “That her deranged and estranged husband could storm into town, gun in hand and hell-bent on hurting her. I mean, he traveled all the way from LA, despite being on the run from police. What sort of entitled ass sets his wife’s house on fire?”
A deranged one, obviously. And that same entitled ass had also come demanding Emilia return the millions he’d stolen from her family in the first place…
Deranged. Entitled. What a savage mix.
Sarah frowned down at her hands and the tall glass she polished. “I didn’t even know Emilia was married.”
How had she let go of her relationship with Blaine without knowing that piece of information?
Why does it matter? He didn’t love me. At least, he didn’t love me enough to stay.
And now Blaine lay in a hospital faraway in Minneapolis, all because the would-be hero had quite literally been caught in the crossfire between Emilia and her husband. As in, he’d taken a bullet to the chest, his chance of survival still unknown.
Ally’s eyes welled with tears, and her shoulders trembled. “There wasn’t any love between Emilia and her husband. She told me about Anthony just yesterday. She found him terrifying and had already filed for divorce. This is all so unfair. That horrible people can mess with the lives of everyone around them.”
Yes, unfair. And Emilia also had injuries, since Anthony’s attack had started on her before moving to Blaine. Only, Emilia somehow got hold of a knife, and Anthony’s life ended soon after.
So much chaos. So much violence. So much blood and carnage. To some extent, Ally was right, this did sound like something from a much bigger city, not a perpetually boring town like Harlow.
Sarah lowered the glass in her hand and grabbed another, her confusion deepening. “Why would she marry someone so evil to begin with?”
Ally pressed her lips together in the face version of a shrug. “She married young and under pressure from her family. Anthony was the one who broke Blaine and Emilia up ten years before they met again in Harlow.”
That’s right. Blaine had explained that he’d known Emilia during his brief time in LA as a teenager, that it was never his choice to leave her. Because of that history, Sarah had conceded his happiness would never be with her. After three years together, she’d stepped back, not wanting to play second fiddle to his memories of another woman.
I chose to end things, and still, it hurts.
Then again, she couldn’t say all parties were happier for her sacrifice after all.
Ally snatched a nearby napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blubber. I’m just worried about Blaine. It’s so weird, you know? Not having him at Oak Tree to chew me out over every little thing.”
Never one comfortable around displays of emotion, Sarah kept her attention low, though she did understand Ally’s despair. Blaine was Harlow’s only carpenter. Ally was his sales assistant. She kept his store running while he built furniture and carried out house repairs and renovations around town.
Ally and Blaine loved to bicker in the way two firm friends sometimes did. She’d also gotten close to Emilia, whilst being Sarah’s friend too. An island of neutrality if ever there was one.
Sarah winked at Ally, her action meant to lighten the mood while muting her own sense of foreboding. “Sheriff Marlin said Blaine might return to the shop in a few weeks, and then you’ll be back here telling me how much he’s annoying you.”
Ally’s laugh hitched between sobs. “You handle difficult stuff like this so well. I don’t know how you do it. You were engaged to Blaine, and you’re holding it together. Meanwhile, I’m just his employee, and look at me, I’m a complete mess.”
Sarah paused her polishing, Ally’s comment a hard blow to her chest. She didn’t handle tragedy any better than Ally. She was just more experienced at hiding her pain.
Blaine was more than her ex-fiancé. He was her closest friend, perhaps her only friend, aside from Ally. Pieces of her had fragmented in ending their relationship. That breakup had taught her that some love never died; it merely changed. So if she couldn’t love Blaine as her partner, then she would love him as something else, though the weeks following the breakup hadn’t afforded time to define what exactly.
There’d been the breakup. Her taking time to be alone. Him jumping into his shiny new relationship with Emilia. Then this new tragedy…
Screw this. He’s not mine anymore. It’s not my place to help him, remember? Even if I want to.
