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My eyes drifted to the bright screen, daring me to open a dangerous door to my heart. One I had sealed shut a long time ago. I had no delusions of anything happening between Patrick and me. But I knew once I opened the door, all the second-guessing I had done over the years—and especially the past several months—would suffocate me. Probably even haunt me. Patrick had what I so desperately wanted: children of my own. Except I thought three was the perfect number.
I had what was called a hostile cervix. My body killed all the sperm trying to make their way in. It kind of made sense, given my personality. Jared unfortunately had weak swimmers. It was a terrible combination. Jared and I had tried artificial insemination and even IVF to no avail. I wanted to adopt, but Jared was against it. He wasn’t sure he could love another person’s child the way he would his own. So now I only had Jameson to love. Which is amazing. He is the best kid around. It was going to break my heart when he and Charlotte moved in with Drake. Dang Drake.
After stalling long enough, I typed into Google:Patrick and Nina Abbott, Colorado. I assumed that’s where they’d lived, as Patrick loved it there.I remembered him mentioning he planned to live there for the rest of his life unless some woman could change his mind. I wondered why he’d changed his mind now. Maybe he already had a new woman? My pinkie hovered over the Enter button.Just do it, I told myself. Regardless of whether Patrick and his children stayed at the inn, I was bound to see him. Fair Hollow wasn’t all that big. What were the odds he was moving here? I knew what George and Charlotte would say, which meant I would never ask them such a question.
I imagined running into him at the grocery store. I was sure to be holding a jumbo-size box of tampons and probably a family-size bag of chips. Let’s throw some dip in there, too. I would probably say something stupid like, “I know I promised I would kiss your face off if I ever saw you again, but my hands are kind of full. Chips, anyone?” Maybe I should move. Except I had sunk almost my entire nest eggandthe proceeds from my divorce into the inn. And I had to admit, I loved living here, even if I hated driving in the snow—and that my inn was possibly haunted by a sweet, mischievous old lady.
I threw caution to the wind and clicked Enter. It didn’t take long for several articles and pictures to pop up. I stilled my heart and swallowed. Front and center was a picture of Nina and Patrick, dressed to the nines at some charity ball. They were a stunning couple. She looked like she hadn’t aged at all with her silky chestnut hair. Her killer body, with curves for days, was draped in a red satin sleeveless gown. Though I was pretty sure her boobs were a lot bigger than I remembered them. Either that or she had an insane push-up bra. I was going with a boob job. It made sense, given she was married to a plastic surgeon. Actually, the more I zoomed in, the more I could see a lot of things about her were different. Her nose wasn’t as pointy, and she had higher cheekbones. Huh.
The caption read:Dr. and Mrs. Abbott attending the annual Children’s Hospital ball benefiting the pediatric burn center.It was dated almost two years ago.
I stared at Patrick, as handsome as ever. He stood tall and proud in his black tux. His heartthrob Brad Pitt cut was long gone, replaced with a stylish French quiff worn longer on top with faded sides. Perhaps his hairline was a tad off from where it used to be. His caramel hair was definitely darker and grayer, but it worked well for him, especially against his dark stubble, now accompanied by some scattered silver. My fingers grazed the screen, wishing I could once again touch his chiseled face. I felt almost guilty for it, like I was betraying Nina and perhaps even my younger self. But I couldn’t help it. Something about him still called to me. Those brilliant aqua eyes seemed to scream my name.
I tilted my head. Was it just me, or did he look unhappy? It was something about the way he stood so stiffly and didn’t touch Nina. As I looked closer, I noticed her smile appeared forced. The photographer probably just caught them at an off moment. I could understand that. Going out with Charlotte anywhere now, I ran the risk of having my photo taken. People had to know all about the woman stealing the most eligible bachelor in the world’s heart. Again, I had to question: Who knew that out of the millions of eligible bachelors around the globe, Drake was the most eligible? I had to say, I admired how well Charlotte was handling it all. She even had fun with it, taking hot chocolate out to all the creeper peepers, as I liked to think of them. I hoped after they announced they were married, the photogs would entirely disappear. I felt bad for their next victims.
To the detriment of my heart, I searched for more photos, happier ones. A marriage announcement popped up next. I’d seen the photo before of the happy couple in a gorgeous meadow full of wildflowers. Patrick held Nina tightly from behind. They both wore bright smiles. It would be a lie if I said that when I received that announcement seventeen years ago it didn’t sting, that I didn’t feel some loss. I still felt guilty about it, considering I was in the middle of planning my own wedding. A wedding I wasn’t sure would ever take place.
Jared and I were engaged for three years before we got married. As young as we were, I figured we would get married right after college graduation, but Jared kept wanting to put it off. “Why do we need to rush to get married when we know we’re in love?” he would say. Or something like, “There are so many fun things I want to do before I get married.” That hurt the most. I thought we would just do all the fun things together. My young heart was too easily injured. Finally, I handed him back his ring. He put it right back on and we set a date. It felt like a hollow victory, like I was forcing him to marry me. Now I felt so stupid about it. So many times, I wondered if I should have just let him keep the ring. But everyone thought we were the perfect couple, even my family.
I bet Patrick never made Nina doubt his feelings for her. He probably put the ring on her finger and picked a date the very same day. But what did I know? I only knew him for three weeks. Yet, it felt like forever.
I moved on to pictures of him accepting a partnership in his family’s plastic surgery practice and awards he had won over the years. Then it was some of his published research. There were pictures of their beautiful children. A daughter as gorgeous as Nina and a son as handsome as Patrick, with a smile as ornery as Jameson’s. They were the picture-perfect family.
I finally braved Nina’s obituary.
Nina Abbott, forty, beloved wife and mother, died on January 13 in Denver, Colorado, from complications following a recent surgery.
My hands flew to my mouth. That’s so awful.
Nina was a beautiful person who spread light and cheer wherever she went. She leaves behind her devoted husband, Patrick, her daughter, Bridgette, and her son, Rory. Her family was everything to her.
I closed my laptop. The wordsdevoted husbandandher family was everythingrang in my head. I couldn’t let Patrick stay here. I knew I would eventually see him around town. But for Nina, I would do my best to stay away from him. It was probably the best thing for my heart anyway. Besides, who needed a soul mate?
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TOLDhim he could stay here.” I glared down at Charlotte from the six-foot ladder I was atop, while strategically placing a large golden glass ornament on the limb of one of the huge noble fir trees in the ballroom. The place smelled and looked like an enchanted forest. Between yesterday and today, we’d decorated most of the ballroom trees. I was doing my best to resist dropping said ornament on my dear sister’s head.
Charlotte grinned at me evilly. “Hmm. This sounds familiar. What did you say to me when you said Drake could stay here? Was it, ‘This will be good for you?’”
I gripped the ornament, telling myself violence wasn’t the answer. “This is a totally different situation. I only told Drake he could stay here because the guilt of keeping Jameson a secret from him was killing you. Mine was a benevolent act,” I said in hushed tones, hoping our guests wouldn’t hear. The ballroom carried voices.
Charlotte snorted. “Benevolent? I’m pretty sure you were hoping Drake would take one look at Jameson and run the other way, screaming.”
I placed the decoration on the tree, avoiding Charlotte’s gaze. She might have been a little bit right. It’s not that I wanted Drake to hurt Charlotte or Jameson—I just wanted Charlotte to realize she didn’t see Drake clearly. Guess who needed the glasses? “It was mostly for you to ease your conscience.”
“Which I thank you for. I’m only returning the favor.”
“My conscience is completely at ease, thank you very much.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She handed me another ornament.
I reached down to take it. “What do you mean?”
She held the bauble between us, making sure I looked her in the eye. “I only want to give you the same happiness you brought into my life.”
It was kind of hard to be upset with her when I knew she meant every word, but ... “You have no idea if letting Patrick,” I whispered his name, “stay here will accomplish that. He probably hates me.” I might not even like him anymore, though I found that hard to believe.
“He doesn’t,” she was quick to say.
“How do you know?”
