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ALANA
Reaching over the side of the mattress, I groggily search for my phone in the back pocket of my jeans on the floor. I crack one heavy eyelid open and peek at the screen.
When I see the time, I bolt to my feet.Dammit.
“Davis.” I give the handsome log of a man lying on the mattress a hard shake. “Davis, we’ve got to go.”
The sun is out. The birds are chirping. The lumberjacks are lumberjacking.
And the wedding is in six hours.
We have to leave right freaking now if we have any hope of getting to Crescent Harbor in time.
In one blink of his heavy eyelids, all signs of sleep are gone from his face. Hurriedly, he swings his feet to the floor. “Shit. Right. We’ve gotta go.”
We bustle around the small room, getting our things together. I say a silent goodbye to the cobwebby little cabin right before we haul all our things up the path back to the main house.
Through all the madness, I’m downright giddy.We’re about to be on our way to the wedding. Finally.
With quick hugs and a few tears—from Jimmy of all people—we thank the old hippie couple for their hospitality.
“You guys really saved the day, allowing us to stay here,” Davis says, giving Rainbow a quick squeeze before shaking hands with Jimmy.
“It was our absolute pleasure,” she says, hand on her heart and visibly trying to keep from crying. “We’ll never forget you two.”
“We won’t forget you, either,” I say when it’s my turn to pull the old woman into a hug.
She pats my cheek. “Promise to try and come back someday soon.”
When she says that, my eyes meet Davis’s. He looks away. A burst of sadness stings my soul. The bitter truth is, we both know we’ll never be making this trip again.
I return my eyes to Rainbow, giving a hesitant smile. “Promise.”
Lying to her is hard enough. But there’s no lying to myself. The momentary truce that Davis and I forged to survive these few days in that little bed in that little cabin in this little town? It’s over. And now, things go back to the way they were before.
I wave to Jimmy and Rainbow as Davis backs the Jeep down their driveway. The charming couple disappears from view and, a moment later, we’re back on the highway.
Our old friendsilencemakes her unwelcome return.
The whiplash is crazy. Mere hours ago, we were dancing, laughing, confessing secrets in the dark. And now, we’re strangers again. Davis is sitting in the seat right next to me, yet I miss him so much, he might as well be on the other side of the galaxy.
Eyes hard, jaw tight, fingers crushing the steering wheel, my ex-husband keeps his focus on the road, ignoring me completely as he drives.
For a few miles, I try to ignore the prickly tension in this car. I try to put it out of my mind and focus on the long-awaited wedding we’re headed to. But I just…can’t.
Because the fact is that I love him. So fucking much.
Just yesterday, I basically told Davis that our divorce was for the best and there was no point in wishing for a second chance between us. But as we sit here, I’m having second thoughts.
I don’t want to return to my big, empty bed.
I don’t want to return to my solitary meals.
I don’t want to go back to idle small talk and faking smiles when he and I pass each other at the grocery store.
I want more. I want the companionship and the intimacy we shared over these past few days. I want to be his again.
In the span of two days and three nights, I’ve fallen flat on my ass in love with this amazing man all over again. Can love be enough?
