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Last night, I checked her front door after I left the gym. Part of me was happy that she finally remembered to lock it, but the other part was disappointed because it would have given me an opportunity to talk to her. I probably should have called her, but I really didn’t feel like getting hung up on, so I left a note on her car windshield using a page out of my citation book. I’m an idiot. I know that, but I can’t make my feet go over there and talk to her.
Hell, this morning, I’m sitting in my patrol car across the street, watching her wait on tables, chitchat with the customers, and even give the Jackson sisters gentle hugs as she serves them their morning coffee. She scoots around her shop as if nothing ever happened. Her days here are coming to a close, and that must be what’s making her happy. She’s going to leave, and I’ll have to deal with whatever happens to this town.
Yes, she’ll be walking out of all of our lives, but she’ll be taking my heart with her, and I don’t want it back. This is worse than when Willow left me. In all honesty, I built my house as a test to see if she loved me enough to stay here, to change her party-girl ways. And she ran away as fast as she could. She left me in a fetal position for a year, but when I finally got my head out of my depressed state, I realized I’d wanted her to run. There was something niggling at the back of my brain, telling me she wasn’t the one.
I had to do my own whoring around to figure out that wasn’t what I wanted, either. I even had to endure two years of celibacy to realize what I want. And what I want is right across the street, her ponytail swishing around her face. What I want is going to leave this city forever, and I’ll never be the same.
A knock on my window scares the crap out of me. I squint to see Willow standing next to my car, arms crossed over her chest. Through the closed window, I hear her say, “Gunnar, we need to talk.”
I do not need this today, but she’s not going to leave me alone until she says her piece. Well, I have a few things to say to her today. When I get out of my car, I slam the door behind me.
“What do you want?” My jaw is clenched so tight, I’m not sure if she could interpret what I just said.
“What is your problem?”
I storm over to her and get right in her face. “You are my problem.”
She points to In A Jam. “You are making a big mistake.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten. I have never hit a girl, and I don’t want to start now. “It’s my mistake to make. You’ve caused enough damage. Please go.” And with that, I turn my back on her, rest my arms on the hood of my police car, and rub my temples.
“I know. That’s what I mean.”
“Please leave.” I sneak another peek at Andie, who has now taken up dancing with a broom. God, what a woman.
“Not until you go over there and apologize to her. I did. And let me tell you, I almost chewed a hole in my cheek from biting it so much. I do not admit I’m wrong, and you know that.”
I swing around to make sure there isn’t a smart-ass smirk on her face. She’s dead serious. “What did you do?”
Willow bites on her bottom lip and stares over at Andie’s shop. “Well, it was under duress, but I meant every word I said. I told her I fed you half-truths because I know you well enough to know which buttons to push.”
I let out a breath as I stare at my shoes. “Doesn’t matter. I saw the plans she had in her apartment. She’s going to sell.”
Willow stomps her foot. “You saw physical evidence of what you wanted to see to substantiate what I wanted you to believe.”
Her big words make me chuckle. “Did you spout lawyer speak?”
“Maybe, but what I saw, in the shop with the developers, is a girl who was hearing the words from those two men, but... it’s almost like she had a thought bubble over her head because as she took in every single person in the shop that day, I swear I felt her thinking, ‘I can’t leave them.’ Gunnar, things aren’t always what they seem.”
I turn back around to watch Andie as she has a conversation with Mrs. Cavanaugh.
Willow steps up to stand beside me. “Gun, I have nothing to gain from this conversation. I know we’re done and have been for a very long time. But as a friend, someone who has known you almost your entire life, I beg you to apologize to her.”
I agree. She’s right. I have to at least try. “I’ll stop by tonight after my shift.”
Andie pulls out something from underneath the counter and, after she says a few words to Mrs. Cavanaugh, walks to the front of the store. With a tape dispenser in one hand and a sign in the other, she proceeds to tape the sign to the front window. She slides her hand over the sign then nibbles on a fingernail. She pats the sign and walks away, back into the store.
Willow squints to read the sign. “I can’t read it.”
“I have to go.”
I yank the car door open, and before I can get my seat belt on, I have the engine cranked. I pull my patrol car into the street and roll down Main Street to get a better glimpse at what she put in the window. I think a kick to the nuts wouldn’t hurt this much. My heart drops into my stomach, and I bite my lip to keep a tear from escaping when I read the sign again.
For Sale by Owner.