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“What do you mean?”
“Well, I own it. I'm the sole owner and sole employee.” My eyes finally met his.
“How can you do both?”
“Well, I have to be there, anyway, so there really isn't any point to hire someone and have a payroll to worry about—I'm barely turning a profit. That’s why for the book drive I have been looking for volunteers.”
“That's not what I meant, Cass. How can you write full-time and work full-time?”
I took another sip of wine, not looking in his direction. He knew the truth, I wasn't fooling anyone, and he also knew the hours I used to spend writing which back then had left little to no time for anything else.
“Cass? What about your writing?”
“It's a long story, Brody.” I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, I couldn't look at him.
“So, tell me.”
“I'm trying hard to start up again. I had the option to write a part for a romance anthology with a few author friends of mine, so I took it. The other book I told you about, I made up.”
“So, you lied to me the other night.” He went silent, grabbing his wine.
“I didn't want you to be disappointed in me.”
“I'm more disappointed you wouldn't tell me the truth. At least you’re starting again I guess. That's what really matters. I hope Ray is supportive of the idea. It's not my place, but I didn't like his comment to you the other day.”
“He's not really that supportive.” My finger ran around the rim of my wine glass. “He doesn't understand, he was raised to be a worker, and he doesn't look at it as work. He thinks it’s just a waste of time, and I should focus all my time on the store.”
“I see. Well, I'm going to try not to make any comments on that, but I'm happy for you. You were a great writer.”
“How would you know?”
A light blush rose to his cheeks. “I may or may not have read a couple of your books.”
I smiled a little at his admission and took a sip of wine. “You read my books?”
“Let's just forget about that, but in the meantime, if you need help with your writing, I was serious when I said you can bounce ideas off me. Remember, Jackson would never have wanted you to quit.”
I took a drink, the mention of Jackson's name making me a bit uncomfortable. I looked at the picture that sat on the table beside Brody, his eyes following mine.
“I miss him, Cass. A lot. It's weird being here. The last time I was here, I was with him on that fishing trip, just a couple of months before the fire. Not much has changed, you've kept it pretty much the same.” He turned his attention back to me after looking around the room.
“That's not true, a lot has changed, Brody.”
Brody continued to look around the room, and I watched him. He hadn't changed. For the first time since he had returned, I really looked at him. He was still as handsome as he ever was—Those blue eyes set against his dark hair, his chiseled jaw set tight with a couple days worth of growth. I couldn't help take in his features as he looked around the room, his eyes falling back to the photo. When our eyes met, I remembered Jackson's words the night he died.
“I don't want you to spend the rest of your life alone if ever I don't come home. I want you to go on and meet someone, get remarried, have kids, and live your life and never give up.”
I hadn’t done a great job following his wishes. Here I was in a relationship with a man who was twenty years older than me. I knew he was past the stage of wanting children, he had made that very clear, and I doubted if he wanted to get remarried. So, here I was in a relationship with very little hope or want of it moving forward, and I had totally given up on everything I had worked hard for. There had been so many days in the last three years that had been a struggle to even get up out of bed.
For whatever reason, it could have been the memory I just had or the fact I was sitting here with the first man I had slept with after Jackson had died, but I could feel the tension between us. Perhaps it was the three bottles of wine we had consumed or all the unsaid things that lay there, hidden between us, but whatever it was, for me to be able to move on and start over with Brody, the air needed to be cleared.
We sat in complete silence, studying one another. At one point, I almost thought Brody was going to kiss me, but he didn't. When I couldn't take the tension anymore, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.
“Brody, seriously, why did you come back?” I knew exactly how this question sounded, but it had been gnawing at me since Josie had sent me that text, letting me know he was looking for me.
“I had to see you.”
“What for, Brody? You think you can just come walking back into my life just to leave me again?”
