right thing for you. That’s what got me through it. One of us needed to be happy. I always wanted it to be you.”
I thought my heart would break. “Hunter, I’m so sorry.” Before I realized what was happening, tears were leaking down my cheeks.
“Don’t.” He looked pained as he immediately reached up to swipe at the tears. “I can’t take it when you cry. You know that.”
I did know it, but I was incapable of stopping now that I’d started. “No, I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“But I do.” I was insistent. “I broke up with you because it seemed I had to. I didn’t want it either, but I had this picture in my head. It was of a place I was supposed to end up.”
“And I could never make it there with you,” he surmised. “I know that.”
“But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” He was back to being amused as he wiped away all traces of my tears with his fingers.
“The point is I thought a certain life would make me happy. I was wrong. I spent years bouncing from thing to thing, trying to find that spark of magic everyone needs to be happy ... but there’s been nothing.”
Spark of magic, I internally muttered. Is that was this is? Is this the spark of magic I’ve always been looking for? Did I somehow manage to do this to myself? It seemed ridiculous to consider, but it somehow fit.
“You can still have the life you were meant to live,” Hunter insisted. “You’re still figuring things out and that’s okay. You’re home now. You can take the time you need.”
At that moment, the thing I wanted most was him. I knew without a doubt that I could never tell him that, though. I’d ruined his life once. I couldn’t do it again.
“What is it you need?” I asked. “I mean ... you don’t smile as often as I would like. You need to find some inspiration of your own. And I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think Monica can ever be the source of that inspiration.”
Rather than be offended, he barked out a laugh. “You might be right.” To my surprise, he held out his hand. “Let’s take a walk down memory lane, shall we?” He looked excited at the prospect, which was enough to give me pause.
“You want to hold my hand in the woods. Here?” My voice was unnaturally squeaky.
“I want to remember the good times,” he clarified. “I want to talk about when we were kids ... and all the stupid stuff we used to do down here.”
“Like the time we were making out and I was late for dinner and Grandpa came to find me and my shirt was inside out?”
His eyes filled with such joy at being reminded of the memory that my heart hurt just looking at him. “That would be great,” he agreed. “When we’re finished with that one, we’re also going to talk about what you told me last night.”
I froze, conflicted. “And what did I tell you last night?” Panic licked at my insides as I tried to remember if I’d said anything that could get me in trouble.
“You told me you felt as if someone was watching you behind the restaurant. I don’t like the idea of you wandering around out there if you don’t feel safe. We’re going to talk about self-preservation — because obviously you need lessons — and then we’re going to talk about whatever information you got from Bobby while he was drunk. I saw you and Alice with him, and I think he told you something.”
“He did.” In the aftermath of everything that had happened I’d almost forgotten. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Have an hour of quiet to reminisce? I’m sure.”
I thought about arguing, but I needed the quiet, too. I needed to share in his warmth and revel in the familiarity of his presence. “Okay, but the Bobby story is weird and annoying.”
“I would expect nothing less. I want to hear everything.”
20
Twenty
Hunter insisted on walking me back to my car, and we were still holding hands when we got to the parking lot.
“Well, that was nice,” I said lamely. What was I supposed to say? We’d spent the afternoon holding hands in the woods like we were teenagers again. The only things missing were the fervent kisses and whispers ... and, sadly, I would’ve been up for that, too. The