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He had inwardly promised himself that, although he would be at the town center, he wouldn’t go near Jane, but the pull to see her had proven to be more than he could bear. The last time he had laid eyes on her was before his divorce, at a family Christmas dinner, and she had arrived with her then-boyfriend.

Finn pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans as Max politely asked the woman at the booth to pack eight tags and pouches.

“What’s an Etsy shop?” Finn whispered, leaning his head closer to his son after paying.

“I don’t know. I think it’s some arts and crafts website,” Max whispered back.

Just then, Avery, who had been trying on earrings at another table, approached them, noticing the pastry box in Max’s hands. “Didn’t you get me one, too?” she asked, looking at Finn.

“I asked if you wanted anything, and you said you didn’t.” Knowing her, Finn had planned on getting her something, anyway, but seeing Jane had banished any thought from his head.

“Never mind,” she said irately. “I’ll take a bite from Max’s.” She smiled at their son.

“I can go get you something now. Which one do you want?” Finn offered, handing the payment for his son’s gifts to the lady. They’d had a peaceful day until now, and he didn’t want to give her a reason to ruin it. Like a Nintendo Donkey Kong game, it had been their pattern—she’d find reasons to fight, throw them in the air as baits, and he would try to catch and pacify them for his son’s sake before they’d turn into an argument. He’d become an expert in identifying the first signs before her mood turned combative. He had kept at it for years, driven by scorching guilt, even after she had managed to see a full-term pregnancy a year after their marriage. He had kept at it even after realizing, through witnessing her relationships with others, that she had always been like that, regardless of the two miscarriages. He had kept at it, especially so Max would grow up in a peaceful atmosphere. But, at some point, his guilt alone couldn’t carry the weight of a marriage that had begun loveless and had grown more so every year. And, at some point, he had realized that living in an imminent explosive atmosphere wasn’t the same as being peaceful, and as much as he wanted his son to grow up with two parents and not like how he had grown, Max was better off with them apart.

He had been relieved when, two years ago—one year after their divorce—she had announced she had gotten a promotion and was moving back to their hometown. At first, they had chauffeured Max back and forth three times a week, but with time, it dropped to Max spending just the weekends with her. They had all gotten used to it, and Finn had a feeling they all preferred it that way, not just him.

“Should I go get you one?” he repeated. He had no intention of fighting with her and ruining Max’s day.

Waiting for Avery’s reply, he couldn’t help but admit to himself that going back could also be his chance to see Jane again, though, unsurprisingly, she had made it clear she didn’t want him there.

“Don’t bother now,” Avery snapped, her tone indicating the imminent blow-up. “How’s my dear cousin and aunt?” She directed her venom elsewhere all of a sudden. “I assume they were all there today? It looks pretty busy.” Avery glanced at the bakery on the other side of the packed main street.

“Yes,” he replied laconically, choosing to answer only her second question. He had never told her about Jane, just that she had once tutored him. The unforgettable kiss that they had shared in college, or the week that had owned and ruined his heart, had been kept his secret all these years. He never let her drag him into conversations about her.

Avery was in a constant, one-sided competition with the world, and especially with her younger cousin since the two had been kids. With the way his heart pounded in his chest in the rare times that Jane’s name had been mentioned between them, it wasn’t a safe topic for him to discuss with Avery.

“Want some, Dad?” Max asked, handing over the hummingbird cupcake.

“Maybe just that frosting, though it’s too beautiful to eat.” Finn scooped a finger over the frosting, put it in his mouth, and sucked. Jane made it, he thought. He swallowed. Ormaybe it was actually her dad, the gentle giant, Bert Drecher, whose dream to own a bakery and bakeshop had been fulfilled when he had bought Breading Dreams from Connie Latimer when she had been compelled to sell due to financial issues. He had kept the name, the logo, and Connie herself as an equal member of the small staff.

“It is beautiful,” Avery said, granting a rare compliment. “That’s the only art my artistic cousin gets to do these days,” she added in true Avery form. “Remember her wedding cakes?” she unknowingly added a gut-punch. “Wedding cakes and birthday cakes. Oh, and cupcakes.” She jutted her chin toward the cupcake he held.

She used to put him down for sticking with the closest thing to his shattered dream of professional swimming after his NCAA Division 1 days, too.

He took a deep breath then muttered, “It’s art, too.”

It was. He sometimes looked at the bakery’s Facebook page just for a glimpse of Jane’s life. Her mother uploaded pictures of the cakes. They were art.

“D’you know that I offered her to substitute for the art teacher at school one time, and she declined? Said it didn’t fit her schedule. What schedule? It’s her parents’ bakery; she can do whatever she wants. My aunt said they were going to retire soon and hand it over to Anne.”

Like a thirsty man in a desert, he had always gulped any drop of third-hand information about Jane. The information flow had slowed to a trickle after his divorce, but that was how he had learned that she had returned from Cincinnati, that she was single, worked at the bakery, and lived at the old house that used to belong to her grandparents. The house he had known every corner of.

But her parents’ retirement and her taking over the bakery was news. And he couldn’t blame Jane for not wanting Avery to be her boss, even temporarily. Unlike him, who had married a woman he had hardly known, Jane had known Avery forever.

“You did your best,” he said, trying to avoid the topic. Avery couldn’t stand anyone having, becoming, or doing something better than her.

“She taught art in Cincinnati,” Avery muttered to herself, as if Jane had bested her by refusing the substitute job.

With his hand on Max’s shoulder, they continued to stroll to other booths, and Finn tried to enjoy his son’s company, the ocean breeze, and the sun for the next hour until Avery said, “We should get going, Max. Grandma Darian and Grandpa Fernando are waiting for us.” She then turned to Finn. “I’ll drive him to you tomorrow evening.”

Finn hugged his son goodbye then watched them walk away. The mention of Avery’s mother made him think of her tall niece.

Familiar guilt gnawed at him. God knew he had tried, but years of marriage to Avery couldn’t obliterate the love he felt for the woman he had spent one glorious week with before his world had turned upside down with a single phone call. The woman he was now carving his way through the crowd toward.

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