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“Stella?” Maia’s voice cut through my turbulent thoughts as I stepped past the second-floor salon, the space awash in morning light.
I halted, turning toward her. “Hey.” The word stuck in my throat like dry dough. Like me, my younger sister had the dark hair and eyes of a classic Markham, and today she wore her long hair in a messy bun on top of her head. “Escaping from mommy duty?” I tried to use ordinary conversation to center myself.
She was lounging on the antique sofa, her feet tucked beneath her and a paperback in her hand. A smoke-gray cat with bright green eyes was curled up in an armchair next to her. Smiling, Maia put the book face down on her thigh. “Yeah. Wyatt’s watching Skye so I could do a little reading. It’s so peaceful here in the Big House, especially compared to our cottage.”
I tried to listen as I approached, but my mind still whirled.
Maia noticed and sat up straighter, worry etching her features. “You’re as white as your shirt. What’s going on?”
After picking up the cat, Pilar, I flopped into the armchair opposite her, my knees giving out as the familiar scent of candle wax and aged wood enveloped me. Pilar purred as I stroked her in my arms. “I have no idea. You won’t believe who’s back in town.”
“Who?” Her eyebrows knitted together.
“Aiden.” His name felt strange on my tongue, foreign, as if invoking a specter from the past.
Maia’s brow knotted further, then went smooth. Her eyes widened. “Your old boyfriend? From high school?”
“Doctor Aiden Mitchell,” I corrected, the title leaving a bitter taste. “He’s the new provider at the Dove Key clinic. And guess who didn’t know that until she was sitting mostly naked on the exam table waiting for a pap smear?”
“Shut up!” Maia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, honey, that’s just… ugh, I can’t even imagine.”
“Neither could I,” I mumbled, the heat rising to my cheeks again.
Maia leaned forward, her eyes sympathetic. “Are you okay?”
“Not really. I’m embarrassed. Angry. Humiliated.” Each word thudded dully in the room. Pilar must have picked up on my mood because she squirmed in my arms until I gently set her on the floor. She padded out of the parlor, presumably to a quieter destination. I turned back to Maia. “It’s like I’m eighteen all over again, and he’s the center of my universe. Except this time, it’s my adult dignity he’s trampled on.”
She reached out, her hand covering mine. “What are you going to do now?”
Her question hung in the air between us, mingling with the faint sound of waves from outside. I stared at the delicate pattern of the rug underfoot.
“I don’t know, but it looks like I’ll need to find a new doctor. There’s a clinic in Marathon.”
“That’s certainly understandable.” Her delicate eyebrows arched. “I wonder why he came back. Maybe he wants to see you again.”
I snorted and rushed a hand through my hair. “He’s probably married with three kids by now. Who knows why he returned? And it doesn’t matter anyway. Aiden is a chapter I closed long ago.”
She nodded slowly, snapping her book shut and setting it on the end table next to her. “But sometimes the past has a way of resurfacing when we least expect it.”
“Maybe so.” I watched a tern glide effortlessly above the waves. “But that doesn’t mean I have to read that awful story again.”
“Stella, look at me.”
I turned my face toward hers. Maia might be several years younger than me, but she had been through her own romantic travails.
“You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re a successful chef, a businesswoman, and a force to be reckoned with.”
“You’re right.” I squared my shoulders. “Aiden might have been my first love, but he’s not my last. And… well, he can stay a footnote in my history book. An asterisk with mistake after it.”
“Good.” Maia hugged me, her embrace warm and unwavering. I allowed myself a moment, just one, to lean into her support.
“Let’s go downstairs,” I suggested. “I’ve got a restaurant to run and a life to live—without any unwanted plot twists.”
Maia laughed, looping her arm through mine as we stood and headed for the staircase. “That’s the spirit. Besides, Orchid needs its fearless leader.”
“Speaking of which,” I added, “I think it’s time to try out my new seafood medley recipe. What better way to wash away the taste of awkward reunions than with the flavor of success?”
As we stepped into the bustle of the manor’s main floor, that sense of dislocation slipped away, and I became filled with a renewed sense of purpose. Aiden Mitchell had once been my everything. But now I was my own anchor, completely focused on the career I had at last achieved.
