“HANNAH?”
My head snapped up and I straightened from where I stood behind the desk at the store, staring off into space. Liya tilted her head at me, waiting.
“Yes?”
“Where are the new big-bodied heroine romances?”
I tilted my chin to a shelf near the door. “I put them in the new release section.”
Liya hustled over and pointed the shelf out to a customer.
It had been three days since the big blowup with both Wyatt and my dad. At home, my dad wasn’t speaking to me, but I wasn’t speaking to him either, and it was so tense and awkward that I spent most of my waking hours here at the store.
It had been three days of trying to forget about Wyatt Rhodes. I thought it was getting easier. I wasn’t crying anymore.
The bench near the window caught my eye, where Wyatt and I had sat after we renovated the bookstore, while everyone ate pizza and listened to Emmett narrate a spicy hockey romance.
The memory stabbed me in the heart.
Maybe it wasn’t getting easier.
Be brave with me, bookworm.
I swallowed and searched for something to do. A stack of books sat on the desk. I picked them up and wandered around the store, shelving them.
Liya poked her head around the corner of a shelf. “Do you know where those books on the desk went?”
I turned and her gaze dropped to the last book in my hand. “Uh. Sorry. I thought they were to go back.”
She gave me a tight smile. “That’s okay.” She offered a sympathetic expression that made my blood boil. “Why don’t you take the afternoon off? I’ve got it covered here.”
“I don’t need to.”
She shrugged. “You deserve time off, same as everyone else.”
So I could go home and do what? Stare at the walls of a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was a teenager? Make dinner and read my book across from my dad like old times, like nothing had changed?
Everything had changed.
My gaze flicked around my bookstore, so fun and unrecognizable. A book spine stuck out on a shelf so I nudged it in line with its neighbors.
“I’m bringing down the mood, aren’t I?” My voice was soft as I ran my fingers over the Alien Romance section.
“No, you’re just…” Her words trailed off.
She didn’t want to say it, but I knew I was right. “You’re okay for the rest of today?”
She nodded quickly. “Yep. Casey will be here in a couple minutes.”
WHEN I GOT HOME, I spotted my dad through the kitchen window on the patio with a glass of something bubbly and a book. I poured myself a glass of water and he lifted his head.
“Hannah?”
I drained half the glass before I replied. “Yep.”
He appeared at the patio door, watching me with hesitation. “You’re home early.”
I nodded but didn’t offer an explanation. When I moved to leave the kitchen, he gestured over his shoulder to where he was sitting. “Do you want some cider? It’s from Salt Spring. I found it here at the liquor store.” He cleared his throat. “It’s elderberry.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. For as long as I remembered, he drank red wine, one glass, if I brought a bottle home or he picked something up at the market, but never cider.
And now he wanted to sit down and have a drink with me. I could see the peace offering in front of me, but without an explanation or apology, I didn’t want it. Not like this.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’m going to have a nap. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
He shot me a concerned look. “Okay.”
When I stepped into my room, a noise of disgust and disdain scraped out of my throat. I threw myself down on my bed and stared at the lavender walls.
I hated this room. I didn’t fit here anymore. I needed to move out, like I said a few days ago to Wyatt.
Instead of napping, I pulled out my laptop and scrolled through rentals in Queen’s Cove. Now that summer tourist season was over, there was a lot more selection.
One bedroom, furnished, patio, pets allowed, price a little high but I could make it work now that I was paying myself a salary again.
When I checked the location, my stomach pitched. Down the street from the breakfast food truck.
Which meant it was down the street from Wyatt’s place.
“Nope.” I closed the window and kept searching.
One bedroom, partially furnished, no patio but lots of windows, only one block from Main Street, including groceries, my work, and the art gallery—
Wyatt’s face flashed into my head, listening to me ramble on about how badass Emily Carr’s self-portrait was with an amused, affectionate look.
Nope.
One bedroom, unfurnished, pets allowed, with a small backyard with space for a garden. One block from the bar.
Hell no.
My gaze flicked to the figurine of merman-Wyatt, the one I had made before the camping trip. The same one that hung from his rearview mirror.
I stood, picked the figurine up, and dropped it in a desk drawer before sliding it closed.
Everywhere in town reminded me of Wyatt. My bookstore reminded me of him. The bar reminded me of him. The beach reminded me of him. Even my own goddamned bedroom reminded me of him.
I couldn’t go, but I couldn’t stay. How could I forget him when he was around every corner?
The gold dress sparkled in my closet.
I don’t even know who you are anymore, Miri had said at the bar the night I sang karaoke.
I had bleached the old Hannah out of my life and now there was nothing left to show. My birthday was tomorrow, and I had made the store profitable again. I had become the hot girl I always wanted to be. I had fallen for Wyatt. The list was complete, but instead of fixing my life, I had fucked everything up so much worse.
A book sat on my desk, a mafia romance I bought last year and hadn’t gotten around to reading. For now, I didn’t want to be Hannah or whatever was left of me. I wanted to be someone else, so I lay down on my bed, cracked the book open, and disappeared.
“DOES THE SALMON TASTE OKAY?”
I looked up from my book and nodded at my dad across the table. “Yep. It’s great.” I forked another bite into my mouth and returned to my book.
I had read the same page about eight times. I shifted in my chair and shot a glance around the tiny kitchen. The room felt too small. The walls closed in on me. If I lifted my hand, the ceiling would be right above my head. We were going to run out of air soon.
I couldn’t keep going like this. I couldn’t slip back into my old life, working in the bookstore for my father, under his thumb, by his rules. I couldn’t go back to being shy, quiet Hannah who stared out the window, watched the world go by, and wished she could be a part of it. Now that I had a taste of the gold sequinned dress, I couldn’t go back to hiding it under the bed. Or tucking it under the bed and hiding from it.
“Wyatt Rhodes was in the store the other day.”
My heart lifted along with my head. “He was?” My fork clattered to my plate. He had come looking for me.
I didn’t know what the solution would be. I didn’t want Wyatt to stay, that would mean giving up on his dream. That didn’t sit right with me.
But maybe he had thought of something. Maybe there was a chance.
My dad nodded. “He came in with you.”
Right. Before everything went to complete crap.
“Oh.” I sank and turned back to my book. “Yeah.”
“Are you friends?” His tone was light, and I knew he was curious but holding back from making me uncomfortable.
“Something like that.”
“Something more?”
My chest pinched and my mouth drew down into a frown. I shrugged at my book. “I don’t know. We used to be. Not anymore.”
He made an acknowledging hmm noise and nodded at his plate. I read the page for the ninth time.
He put his cutlery down. “I want you to be happy.”
A scoff scraped out of my throat and my eyebrows rose. A prickle of bottled-up rage squeaked through. When he shot me a curious glance, I shook my head. “As long as it’s on your terms, right?”
“Hmm. The store.” He blinked at his empty plate.
“Yeah. The store. I’m not changing it and I’m not leaving.” I folded my arms over my chest and set my chin. “I love it, and we’re keeping it the way it is. You lied to me.”
He crossed his arms, mirroring me.
“You didn’t just lie about you and Veena. You told me we couldn’t change a single thing about the store because of Mom. You made it seem like I was spitting on her grave by putting up wallpaper. You made that store a tomb for her, and the entire time, you were moving on just fine.”
I spat the last words out with fury. My chest was tight and my stomach was in knots. My hands shook with anger. I let out another humorless laugh. “I have been so stupid. God.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Why do I have to make up for your guilt? Why can’t I move on from Mom too?”
His mouth fell open before he sighed. “I went there today.”
I reared back. “You did? When?”
“When you were having a nap.” He nodded to himself. “Walked over and took another look. What you did with the store, well, Liya told me everything. She told me how the business was struggling, and she told me you weren’t paying yourself.”
My eyebrows pinched. “She knew that?”
“She told me you built an online presence from nothing, with no help from anyone. She showed me the pictures you took inside the store.” His throat worked. “And of the mural.” He exhaled a long breath and pressed his mouth into a line. “It’s hard to believe the mural is gone.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
“I don’t know what else of hers I can cling to,” he said, very quietly, wincing. He shook his head. “I don’t want to forget her.”
“I don’t want to forget her, either.”
He crossed his arms and stared out the patio door at the backyard. “Deep down, I knew Claire wouldn’t agree with what I was doing, keeping the store the same.” He shrugged. He looked so helpless. So unlike my dad. “I didn’t know what else to do. I still don’t.”
An idea trickled into my head.
He gave me a side-long glance. “Honey, the store looks really cool. I don’t want you to quit.”
His use of the word cool made me smile. “You think it’s cool?”
He nodded. “I do.” He winced and put his head in his hands. “That carpet was ugly, wasn’t it?”
“The worst. It was disgusting.”
“I hope you burned it.”
A laugh burst out of my chest. It sounded rusty. “I threw it in the dumpster and gave it the middle finger.”
His chest shook and he laughed with me. Our gazes met and something settled in my gut.
“Romance, huh?”
I nodded. “Romance.”
“And you really don’t want to sell other best sellers? Crime thrillers, lit fic, fantasy, stuff like that?”
“Nope.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I really don’t.”
He sat back and regarded me. “Okay, then. Pemberley Books is a romance bookstore. You’re the boss.”
My eyebrows snapped together and I narrowed my eyes at him.
He lifted a shoulder. “I was going to give you the papers tomorrow on your birthday but might as well tell you now.”
“You’re giving me the store?”
He nodded. “It’s been yours for some time now. I should have done this years ago.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have done a lot of things differently.”
I thought about how I hid away in that store for years, too afraid to do anything for myself. “Me, too.”
A bird landed on the fence, and I watched as it perched there. The store was truly mine now, but when I pictured myself there ten years from now, selling books and helping customers, something was still missing.
My dad stood to clear our plates.
“What about Veena?”
His hands stilled as he was rinsing the plates in the sink. “What about her?”
I frowned at him. “Seriously? You hurt her because you were scared. You’re being a jerk.”
The dishwasher door creaked as he closed it. He flattened his hands on the counter and looked down, thinking. “I don’t know, Hannah. I don’t know how to do both. I loved your mom so much and Veena—” His voice broke off. “I don’t know how to have both.”
“Mom wouldn’t want you to be unhappy. She’d want you to move on. You don’t have to forget her, but it’s okay if you date other people and fall in love again. She’d hate it if you were unhappy to honor her or something weird like that.”
Unease spiked in my throat. My words made my stomach pitch. My dad hurt Veena because he was scared.
I could have made something work. I could have at least asked my dad, I could have thought of other options, we could have tried long-distance, but instead I shut Wyatt down. I wanted to go with him, and I said no to both him and myself.
Because I was scared of stepping outside my bookstore, like before.
I’d said some terrible things to him. I told him that he wasn’t the right guy for me, that it never would have worked anyway. That he was my practice guy. I put my head in my hands and my heart sank into the floor.
Practice guy. That’s what I had said.
My throat tied itself in a knot. What a way to go, Hannah, I told myself. What a way to show him he meant nothing to you.
I do want you to choose yourself. I want you to choose us.
His words poked holes in my heart.
I pictured my mom across the table from us, crossing her arms with a skeptical expression.
This whole time, I had been so desperate to live exactly like her to make her proud.
“Oh my god.” My expression was incredulous. My throat worked. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
My head snapped up and our gazes met. She wouldn’t want me to follow her step-for-step, like she wouldn’t want my dad to be single for the rest of his life. She’d want me to make my own life. That girl singing karaoke in a gold dress? She’d be proud of me for doing the scary thing. For wearing the dress that made me feel pretty, for chopping my hair off even though I wasn’t sure if it would look good.
She’d be proud of me for taking risks and being brave.
Be brave with me, bookworm.
“Wyatt Rhodes asked me to come with him,” I told my dad. “When he goes pro.”
Tell me you feel nothing.
“And you said no.”
I nodded again. Shit. Urgency squeezed my stomach. The bright, happy memories with Wyatt pressed on me from all angles. My lungs were tight as I heaved a breath.
I had walked away. I had it. Wyatt and I had the thing I always dreamed about and I’d tossed it away like it was trash.
Puzzle pieces clicked into place, one after the other, and I chewed my lip. Wyatt had used everything is temporary as a shield but I had used Wyatt is leaving and I have to be exactly like my mom as my own shields.
When he asked me to come with him, Wyatt had tossed his shield aside.
My heart raced as I pictured quick flashes of our future together. Holding hands on a plane. Floating in the water on our surfboards, enjoying the sunrise.
The nurse at the ER thought you were my pregnant wife.
Sitting on the beach in the sand, keeping a careful eye on our kids.
I had it and I dropped it.
I wanted her to be proud of me. That was what started this whole thing, wanting her to be proud of the person I had turned into, and instead, I had made a huge mess of everything. I was worrying about making the wrong person proud.
I should have been making myself proud the entire time.
Wyatt’s lazy, amused grin appeared in my head. The soft affection on his face when I woke up the other day. The way his fingers always found their way to my hair. The way he grinned from ear to ear when I stood up on my surfboard. The look of adoration as I belted out the Spice Girls in my terrible singing voice. His calm, satisfied way of floating on his board after a surf lesson, staring up at the sky.
In my mind, I was back in the bookstore, sitting on the window bench with Wyatt, surrounded by our friends. Surrounded by my beautiful new bookstore. I had thought me being in that bookstore was meant to be, but the meant to be part was Wyatt beside me.
I had it all wrong. Everything I thought I knew was simply wrong. I was looking for what was right in front of me, like when I searched for my glasses and they were in my hand the entire time. My mom wanted me to be happy, and I had interpreted that in my own way and taken it way, way too far, like my dad had taken keeping her memory alive too far.
It settled in my gut like a rock.
You were my practice guy.
Asshole, I thought as I put my face in my hands. I wasn’t Elizabeth Bennet. I was Wickham, the backstabbing, two-timing liar who hurt and embarrassed Lizzie. I’d dragged Wyatt along, ignored everything that was happening—no, worse, I’d denied everything that was happening. I told Wyatt it wasn’t real. I was the villain the whole time.
It was real, though. I was in love with Wyatt, and because I was too scared of getting hurt, I lied to him and hurt him instead. I chose my own heart over his.
Asshole.
I swallowed thickly. I knew what I had to do. I didn’t know if any of it would work, but I couldn’t leave everything like this, all broken and misaligned.
Bravery, I reminded myself.
My chair scraped when I stood quickly. “I have to go.”
I was going to go get Wyatt Rhodes back.
