“You were not a bitch,” I said, trying to defend the friend I once knew.
“No, I know that now, I guess. I’ve done alright, despite my parents trying to turn me into the most pretentious being on the planet. But I still came from wealth, and I knew it. I always had someone to take care of me. My father was there to pay my tuition and rent, and a huge trust fund was waiting for me when I turned twenty-one. I was set for life.”
“So, you became a hippie?”
“No, bitch!” She laughed. “I told my parents that I didn’t want my trust fund anymore and that I didn’t see the point of going to college to prepare for a career if I wouldn’t need to work. I wanted to make my own way. So, I switched majors. I dropped business for sociology.”
“Oh, man. Your dad must have been so pissed.”
“Yeah, he didn’t take it too well,” she said.
“And then, you became a hippie?”
“Oh my God! I am not a hippie!” She giggled.
“I know. I just like giving you shit.”
“Well, at least that hasn’t changed,” she said, giving me a shoulder nudge.
We continued shopping, and I helped by picking up carrots and freshly baked bread that smelled like heaven. Liv hadn’t been kidding when she said she visited the farmers’ market a lot. Almost every vendor knew her by name and would give her a special price or throw in a few more veggies or goodies into her bag with a wink and a grin. She’d give them a hug and ask how their families were doing. They really loved her down here, and it wasn’t surprising.
After college, Liv had gone to graduate school and gotten her master’s degree. She now earned her living as a family counselor. She worked with families who were going through hard times, like divorce, death, or other difficult transitions. From what she’d shared, I could tell it wasn’t easy work, but the love she had for others radiated through everything she did.
With our bags loaded, we started to make our way back to the car, weaving through the crowd and enjoying the sounds of people talking and soft music playing. I smiled when I heard a child laughing. I turned to see a child being thrown over his father’s shoulder.
“Garrett! Stop it! I’m too old to be carried!” The child laughed.
“You’re never too old to be tackled, Connor! We’ve got to get you ready for football!”
That voice—even after eight years, I would recognize it anywhere. My stomach fell to the concrete, and my feet cemented to the ground. I was frozen, completely frozen. Everything slowed. The street noise melted away, and each and every shopper disappeared until I saw him. He had the boy slung over his shoulder. They were both laughing and breathless from their horseplay. He looked older, but it was still him. He still had the same jet-black hair, emerald eyes, and dazzling smile. A beautiful blonde woman was smiling at the two of them as they joked around.
My heart finally caught up to my brain, and it felt like a jackhammer was beating hard and fast in my chest. My hands shook, and my knees suddenly felt weak and wobbly. I had no idea how much time had passed since I saw him.
Minutes? Hours?
I didn’t know, but it couldn’t have been long since Liv was just now noticing my crazy behavior.
“Amelia, are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost,” she said.
When I didn’t respond, she must have glanced up because I heard her gasp. She’d seen him, too.
“I-I need to get out of here—now,” I gritted through my teeth.
“Are you sure?”
I just nodded and started to turn. I couldn’t face him. He probably hated me.
He had a kid. That hurt. My hand went to my chest, trying to rub out the pain settling there. He had a child. That meant the blonde standing next to him was probably his wife. Garrett was married. It had been eight years. Of course he would be married. I didn’t know why I was surprised, but he wasn’t supposed to be here. He had moved away. He was supposed to stay away. I couldn’t be here if he was still here. I couldn’t breathe if he was still here.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get to the car,” Liv said gently, grabbing my arm and guiding me toward the car.
I just gave a brief nod as I let her lead me.
We hadn’t made it three steps before I heard the words that made my heart come to a screeching halt.
“Mia? Mia, is that you?”
~Garrett~
Since the night she’d left with nothing more than a hastily scribbled note that reduced my heart to ashes, I’d been haunted by Mia’s face everywhere I went. I’d seen her the very first day of my freshman psychology class, sitting in the front row, as I remembered how much she had wanted to earn her degree in child psychology, and eventually teach.
Maybe it will give me a leg up on our own hellions, she’d always said.
I would see her in the airport every time I flew. If I caught a glimpse of a brunette beauty with brilliant blue eyes, I’d wonder where she was going and who she was going to see.
And now, with Connor on my shoulders and Leah next to me, holding her daughter, Lily, I saw her again across the farmers’ market. Out of the corner of my eye, a wisp of brown hair caught my attention, like it always did. But this one was different. This brunette had just the right amount of natural auburn mixed in, and the way the shimmery strands reflected the sun reminded me of summers gone by. I pivoted around just in time to see her face before she turned away into the crowd. My heart recognized her before my mind did, and my heartbeat galloped to full speed the second my eyes saw her.
I’d spent so many years imagining this moment—the day when I saw her again. I didn’t know how many hours I’d wasted, wondering what it would be like to have Mia walk back into my life. Would she come running back, apologizing for everything and begging for forgiveness? Would she look the same? Would she still want me like I wanted her? Or would she have moved on in the way I couldn’t?
Before I could even register the fear and trepidation of the unknown that would have me running in the opposite direction, straight for the sanctuary of the ignorant and unaware, I called out to her.
She turned, and I saw her, all of her, for the first time in eight years.
She looked shell-shocked, frozen, and scared. She had a death grip on the woman beside her.
On a closer look, I recognized Olivia Prescott. We’d gone to high school together. I hadn’t seen her in years, but I remembered her because of Mia. They had been best friends, so we’d spent a lot of time together. The last time I’d seen Olivia, I hadn’t been the sanest of men. I probably owed her an apology.