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Atlas placed a soft peck on my forehead before pulling me against him. “No matter how long I’m gone for, it won’t be forever.”
A sob escaped me. No matter how much I didn’t want to cry, I couldn’t stop my body from shaking with agony. My one true love, my first love, my everything, was leaving. And I wasn’t sure if I would ever get him back.
Atlas
Seven years.
So many months. So many weeks. So many damn days.
When I drove past the sign that saidWelcome to Shefford,I wanted to throw up. I wouldn’t even be in this Godforsaken town if it wasn’t for my grandfather dying.
Oh, who the hell was I kidding? Of course I would be back. I had every intention of coming back a few months later but time got away from me and the next thing I knew, a year had passed.
Everything would have been fine if my father wouldn’t have taken me from this place. I used to love it. I used to love everything there was about Shefford, but when he took me from my childhood sweetheart, all of that went up in flames. She was going to lose her shit when she saw my face again. And she had every right. I never kept in contact. Why? I had no excuse. Not a good one anyway.
I sighed, white knuckling the steering wheel. As I drove down Main Street, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss. I should have spent my life here. Most people who grew up in Shefford, didn’t want to leave. It was a good town. Unlike some that you heard about where everyone was just dying to get out. In my case, it was a certain female that kept me away. It wasn’t the town’s fault. It wasn’t even my fathers. It was me. All me. Because I should have gone back as soon as I got the chance. As soon as we moved to the big city, I got my driver’s license, but did I ever drive back home? Nope. And now I would have to deal with a woman’s wrath because of it.
Or maybe, just maybe, she had forgotten about me. Maybe she shacked up with some guy and got married. Had his babies and moved on.
My stomach twisted, a sour taste burning its way to my throat. Fuck that. Marley Beck was mine. Even though it had been seven years, I would prove to her just in fact how mine she was.
Raking a hand through my hair, I let out a heavy sigh the closer I got to my destination. Parking at the side of the street, I left the rental car and made my way into Ricki’s.
As soon as I entered the small building, I should have known. It was something out of a movie. A visitor comes to town, enters the building and the music stops. Locals gawk and stare, wondering where the hell you came from. Although I lived in Shefford as a kid, I was no longer a local. I realized that as all heads turned my way.
Clearing my throat, I popped the collar to my suit jacket and made my way to the bar.
Ricki Owens stood behind the long bar, wiping a glass with a dish towel.
“It’s been a long time, kid,” he said, not meeting my stare.
I sat at the stool, placed my cell on the bar top and looked around the room. “It has. How are you doing, Ricki?”
“Oh, you know. Living the dream.” He smirked. “What’ll you have?”
“Just a beer please.” I looked around me again and breathed a sigh of relief that the patrons had gone back to their conversations. I hated being the center of attention, but I should have known that this would have happened. It had been seven years since I came home. What did I expect?
“Are you sure? You don’t want something stronger or more expensive to match that suit of yours?” Ricki raised an eyebrow, nodding toward me.
I looked down at myself. “I am a little out of place, aren’t I?”
He grunted, throwing the towel on the counter behind him and poured me a beer. “What are you doing these days? Heard you’ve become a hotshot lawyer.”
It was my turn to grunt that time. I was about to ask how he heard that, but then remembered who I was talking to. Ricki heard everything because people talked. Even when you moved out of town, your business still spread. “Hardly. I’m working at the law firm my father works at.” I was trying to become a lawyer but a hotshot one? Not so much.
Ricki placed the beer in front of me.
My mouth watered. It had been a long time since I had a good draught. The bars I attended anymore had expensive wines, champagnes and scotch.
When that first taste hit my tongue, I groaned. I downed half the pint before I placed it on the bar top in front of me.
Ricki chuckled. “That good?”
“You have no idea.” I finished off the beer and pushed the empty mug toward him. “Keep them coming. Please.”
“You bet,” Ricki said, refilling my beer.
While he was pouring me another drink, I noticed a row of candles on a ledge behind him. “Start a new collection, Ricki?”
