Jane held the ringing phone in her hands, her heart thundering as she stared at the name on the caller display. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but then she thought of Ivy, and the promise she had made to help out in the flower shop.
“Hello?”
“Jane.”
Her heart seized at the sound of Henry’s thick, gruff voice. She closed her eyes against the pang of longing. “How’s Ivy?”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. “She’s doing well. I’m staying at her place tonight. The accommodations are a bit tight.” His laugh sounded forced, and Jane winced. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one finding this difficult. “I told her you’d offered to help in the store. That brightened her spirits.”
“Good, good.” Jane grew silent. She couldn’t bring herself to muster up her earlier enthusiasm or admit to herself that it might not matter that she now had regular hours through the end of the year. No amount of job stability could make up for an unstable home life, and casual dating was frowned on in family court where young children were involved.
“I was worried about you,” Henry said after a long pause. His comment hung there, both of them knowing it couldn’t undo the damage.
“What’s done is done,” Jane said bitterly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the mediator probably made her decision. Judging from the look on her face when she left, I can only imagine it wasn’t in my favor.”
She had already put a call in to her attorney, but it was the weekend and she wouldn’t be able to meet with him until tomorrow, after her shift at Petals on Main. How she would get through a morning of retail service was beyond comprehension right now. The mere thought of baring a smile and pretending like nothing was wrong exhausted her to the bone, no matter how much practice she had.
“Is there anything I can do?” Henry asked, and Jane closed her eyes.
“No,” she said quietly, hating the twinge of hurt that crept into her voice. “There’s nothing anyone could do.”
Henry said nothing. For several seconds Jane listened to the sound of his breathing, savoring her last connection to him almost as much as she resented it, and then, with a simple press of the button she disconnected the call.
The bright morning sun did little to take the chill out of the air. Frost covered the browning grass along Main Street and left a crystallized sheen on the rooftops. Jane rubbed her hands together as she glanced through the window of Petals on Main, relieved to see Ivy standing behind the counter and not her brother.
She had tossed and turned all night thinking of Henry, wondering if she had made the right decision, knowing there was no other choice.
With a tired sigh, she entered the shop and gave Ivy a quick hug hello.
“You look pale, Jane. Is everything okay?”
“Says the woman who spent the weekend in the hospital,” Jane joked. She didn’t feel like getting into her problems right now. It was probably for the best that she was here, able to escape for a bit. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m better. Henry gave me strict instructions not to stay more than fifteen minutes. He said you’re already a pro around here.”
Jane gave a weak smile and followed her friend into the back room to get brought up to speed. The phone in her handbag began to buzz, and she struggled to listen to what Ivy was saying. She nodded as she stared blindly at the spreadsheet Ivy was referring to, something to do with orders and shipment codes.
The buzzing stopped but her pulse didn’t slow. She waited for it. One last alert. The phone beeped. Voicemail.
Her entire fate was in that one message, no doubt from her attorney. She checked her watch. Yep, eight-thirty. Her hands began to shake.
“So there you have it. Any questions?” Ivy blinked at her eagerly.
Jane hadn’t processed a word Ivy had said, but there was no use asking her to repeat it.
“I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” Ivy said.
Jane tied on the heavy twill apron Ivy handed her. “Get some rest,” she said.
“Not like I have much choice. But yes, I promised Henry I’d take better care of myself, and I intend to.” Lowering her voice, Ivy said, “He told me you know… about my diabetes.”
Jane tipped her head. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but… I understand. Sometimes it helps to keep a few things to yourself, so you don’t have to always think about what’s bothering you.” Which was why she didn’t intend to tell Ivy what she was going through right now. Her friend would no doubt insist on working, and that would lead to an argument with Henry, and then everything would become a bigger mess than it already was.
No, she was an adult, and this was her problem. She’d created it, and now she’d solve it. Somehow.
She waited until Ivy had gone upstairs to her apartment before pulling the phone from her bag. Her heart sunk when she saw that the call had indeed been from her lawyer.
Unable to bear hearing the news in a voicemail, she dialed him back instead.
“Jane!”
She frowned. He sounded… chipper.
“I suppose you’ve gotten my messages,” she began in a rush. “I need you to call the mediator, or something, anything you can do to explain that nothing was going on with me and Henry. I have a new part-time job through the end of the year, in addition to the dance classes, and there’s renewed interest in the winter and spring session. I’m giving Sophie a stable life. You know it. You just need to make Ms. Benson see that!”
There was a long pause. “Didn’t you listen to my voicemail?”
Jane gripped the phone tighter. Her entire body had gone cold and she realized she was trembling from head to toe. “No.”
“She already knows that, Jane. She put her recommendation through. Adam dropped the petition this morning. The custody agreement will remain intact.”
Tears sprung to Jane’s eyes as she clapped her hand to her mouth. She swallowed the knot in her throat before finally managing, “But… she seemed so stern yesterday. So… down on me. How—”
“It seems she had a change of heart. Someone came forward with a letter.”
“A letter?” Jane frowned. “So you did get my messages yesterday.”
“Oh, it wasn’t me,” her lawyer replied. “Someone wrote a letter on your behalf. Someone with a lot of influence, it would seem.”
A chill washed over her arms and she turned to see a shadow in the open doorway to the alley, and all at once, everything became clear.
“Henry.”
Jane’s eyes glistened with tears, but the joy in her smile made his breath catch. Henry gritted his teeth, tightening his resolve.
“I’ve just had the most amazing news. I—I can’t even believe it. It’s Sophie. She’s… the custody… Adam dropped it.”
Henry stepped farther into the shop, careful to maintain a healthy distance. “That’s wonderful news.”
Jane’s brow furrowed as her smile slipped. “You don’t seem surprised. Did you—the lawyer said someone wrote a letter.”
He pulled in a long breath. It would be so easy to tell her the truth, but taking credit for it would only make what he had come to say all that much more difficult.
“It sounds like someone was looking out for you.” His smile felt frozen on his face, his words stilted. He hated disappointing her again.
Jane looked down at the phone she still clasped in her hands and studied it. When she lifted her eyes to him once more, doubt clouded the space where so much light had just been. “I don’t know who it was, but… I’ll always be grateful to that person. I hope they know that.”
Henry held her stare. “No doubt it was someone who recognized what a good mother you are. Sophie’s your world. Anyone could see that.”
Jane nodded, seeming uncertain. “I just wish I could thank the person.”
“I’m sure seeing you smile is the only payback that person is looking for.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I actually came in to see you.”
“Oh?”
“Ivy will probably find some excuse to come down here, but she needs her rest. I’m sure you understand.”
Jane nodded, then tipped her head. “Henry. Are you sure you didn’t write the letter?”
“I learned long ago to stay out of people’s business. I saw firsthand what happens when people get involved in situations they shouldn’t.”
“What are you trying to say?” Jane asked, stepping forward.
Henry roved his gaze over her face, taking in the confusion that clouded her eyes. He swallowed hard, knowing what he’d come to do. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you, Jane. You have enough going on without me coming in and turning your life upside down.”
“Last night…” Jane shook her head. “I was upset. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You put Sophie first. You did what any good mother would do.”
Jane took another step forward, stopping within arm’s reach. He let his eyes drift to her lips, remembering the tease of her smile, the way she tasted, and felt… Henry’s jaw pulsed, and he cursed to himself, wishing he could stop now but knowing he couldn’t. She looked so lost and bewildered, and he hated himself in that moment. Hated himself for taking the joy out of this moment for her. Hated himself for crushing her hopes. But he hated himself more yesterday, when he saw how much he’d almost cost her.
He thrust his hands in his pockets. “I’m heading out this week,” he said, his voice gruff and thick. “My editor’s got me on a new assignment and I fly out of San Francisco next week.”
“Will you be back for the holidays?” Jane inquired after a long pause.
“I’ll be on the road, no doubt.”
Jane’s eyes searched his in confusion. “I just thought…” She gave a sad smile. “I guess I just thought—”
His heart skipped a beat, and he cut in before he could hear what she had to say. Knowing that he’d meant something to her, that she cared, and that she’d want him to be there, after everything, would only make things worse. He started it, and now he needed to end it.
“Jane,” he said, his voice softening. “I meant what I said the other day about all those things you deserve. You deserve a man who is home every night for dinner, who tucks Sophie into bed and imagines more children with you. You deserve someone who loves all the things you do, and who makes it his mission every day to make your life a little better. That’s not me.”
Jane blinked but said nothing.
Henry ground his teeth, forcing himself to go on. “You deserve friendship and love and laughter. And stability.”
“But you—”
“I’m none of those things, Jane,” he said flatly.
She shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t believe you. Look at all the nice things you’ve done for me since you’ve been back. You can’t dismiss that.”
No, he couldn’t. He leaned a hip against the counter, feeling the pull in his chest. “Did you ever wonder why I got a divorce?”
Jane looked confused. “No.”
“My wife cheated on me.” He dragged out a long sigh, but anger kicked at his pulse. Even now, there was still that sting when he thought back on it.
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but otherwise her expression remained steady.
“She wanted all the things you need, Jane. I… couldn’t give them to her.” He shrugged. “I tried.” And failed.
“But that’s no excuse for her to cheat on you,” Jane said. “You were the one who told me not to blame myself for Adam’s unfaithfulness.”
“True, all true. But it doesn’t mean I’m any good, Jane. It doesn’t mean I can make you happy.”
“But you did make me happy.”
“And then I nearly cost you your daughter,” he reminded her. She opened her mouth to say something, but he held up a hand. “You want to come home to the same house every night, eat dinner, and curl up into bed. You want to walk down Main Street and wave at the people you’ve known since you were too young to talk. I don’t want those things.”
“I think you do,” Jane insisted.
Henry shook his head. “You’re a family person, Jane. You were raised that way, it’s natural to you. It’s not to me.”
“I wouldn’t cheat on you, Henry.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Henry remarked. “And I’m not willing to take that risk. Of hurting you.” Of hurting myself.
“But Henry—”
“I’m sorry, Jane,” he said, backing up to the door. “I’m really, really sorry.”
He turned and walked away, through the back door and into the alley, turning his collar against the biting wind. He hurried around the building and followed the streets back to the B&B, stopping to look at no one. In a few days he’d be gone anyway, and this time he wouldn’t be coming back. This town was nothing but bad memories. Bad times. Dark reminders. He’d be better once he was on the road, in his routine, putting one foot ahead of the other and never staying in one place long enough to get too close.
It was only here, when he was in Briar Creek, that he dared to think of all he’d once wanted, and all he would never have.