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“Sure. Go get some sleep.”
“I’ll swing by and get you in the morning.”
“No. I’ll be fine,” she said brightly. “I actually think a walk will feel good. I’ve kind of missed those walks these past few days.”
“Okay.” He lifted Mouse off his lap, who mewled in dissatisfaction as he set him down on the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She walked him to the door, and he opened it, pausing to look at her. She rested her hand on his chest, leading him to naturally lean in and kiss her softly, enjoying the soft sweetness of her mouth, the weight of her hand on his chest.
For a moment, he wanted to say never mind about leaving. That he’d just sit up with her a little longer until they both went to bed, and she’d curl up against his side, his arm around her as he fell asleep thinking about how good things were.
Until they weren’t.
Instead, he ended the kiss and, with a nod, walked through the door. He didn’t turn to see if she was still watching, but he did slow on the stairs until he heard the door shut and the lock slide into place.
This was what he had to do. Not just for him but for her as well.
He wouldn’t want her to be stepping forward into this new and exciting life with one foot ahead and the other stuck in her life here with him, a life that would only hold her back.
* * *
Waverley’s pace as she headed to work the next morning lagged more than usual. She wanted to blame it on her late night that had left her hunched over her sewing machine until well past midnight, but she knew that wasn’t everything.
She couldn’t help but feel something was off with Reynolds.
Sure, being moody was innate to his nature, but this felt different. She’d tried to brush off his brusqueness last night as she chatted about the future, a future she had thought was naturally going to include him. His abbreviated responses and quick exit had her wondering if maybe she’d assumed too much.
About what she meant to him.
They hadn’t exactly talked about what they were doing, what they meant to each other, something that maybe she should have pushed more. Maybe she’d been afraid to delve further than surface level, afraid to find out she was putting too much importance in this thing that Reynolds might only be seeing as a fling. He had admitted to seeing various women over the years, none that really stuck. Maybe that was how he liked it.
Casual and temporary.
When she reached the door to the office, seeing the lights already on inside and the closed sign switched to open, she paused. The usual feeling of happiness that struck her at the prospect of seeing Reynolds and doing the small but satisfying tasks around the office that she hoped made her indispensable weren’t there today. Instead, there was a pit in her stomach and a nervous dread that even the walk past the park with all the blooming tulips couldn’t shake.
The bell jingled above her. “Good morning,” she called, hoping her voice sounded upbeat and light, not at all how she was feeling.
There was a pause. “Morning,” he said, no inflection in his tone. He didn’t say anything more, like asking her how the walk was or how she was feeling. He didn’t come out of the office to greet her.
It’s fine, Waverley. Don’t overthink things.
After putting her things away, she sat at the desk and booted her computer up.
Maybe he was just having a rough start to the day. She had kept him up late, and then he’d driven home. Maybe he just needed a cup of coffee from their new coffeemaker extraordinaire.
She got up and went to the tiny kitchen and started the process of making him another flat white. Fifteen minutes later—she was going to figure that thing out even faster the next time—she carried it to his office.
“Delivery,” she said, trying to pin an easy smile on her face even though he didn’t bother to look up as she set it on the desk in front of him. “So how did you sleep last night?”
“I slept fine. But I’m glad I got in here when I did. I almost missed a call from a new client. He’s out in Chicago and wanted to see if I’d work a case for him. His sister’s ex-husband took off with the kid, and the police haven’t made any progress finding them. After hearing what we did finding Spencer, he thought I might have better luck.”
“Chicago? Wow. That’s great. Not that the kid is missing, of course. That’s terrible,” she said, feeling herself babbling unnecessarily. “I meant that you’re getting attention and a more worthwhile case than looking for lost cats and wandering husbands.” She smiled again, seeing if he’d enjoy her humor.
He didn’t. “Yeah, I think so. But I’m going to have to fly to Chicago. I’ll likely be gone through the weekend. Maybe longer. Will you be okay if I can’t make it to your dad’s big party? Maybe he can send a car to pick you up.”
She swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat. He was disappearing again, just like before, and she couldn’t help but feel that he was doing this to avoid her.
It felt all too familiar.
