Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
In answer to her question, Gavin shrugged, and she suddenly realized how large he looked sitting on the small box and that he was probably uncomfortable. It was sort of comical but sort of not, and God, there was such a clashing, rolling mix of emotions happening inside her. Or maybe it was simply exhaustion. “I was on the road for years, and then I threw myself into this job. And then there’s that I just never met the right person.”
“Hmm,” she said, refusing to let her emotions take hold of her thoughts as they’d done a moment before. Shut it down, Sienna. She took another sip of water, and he watched her for a moment and then glanced around the room.
“This is what it would have been like at first if we’d moved into that house,” he said quietly, causing her body to go still.
That house.
The one she hadn’t thought about in a long time and yet was suddenly as clear as day in her mind. Oh, she knew what house he was talking about. “Gavin,” she warned.
Something sparked in his eyes. “You never thought about it? Imagined it?”
“No,” she said. “Or if I did, I can’t remember.” She pulled off flippant better that time, or at least she thought she did.
But when she looked at Gavin, she second-guessed that assumption. He was watching her, a small smile on his lips as though he knew very well she was lying. And of course, he probably did. He knew faces. Not just hers. But Sienna was well aware that she had a hundred tells, and if he still remembered anything about her at all, he’d pick up at least one of them.
It made her feel weak and exposed where it’d made her feel loved and known before. A long time ago.
Gavin glanced away, and she had the weird feeling he was giving her some privacy. “I told Mirabelle you’re back in town,” he said.
She barely held back the flinch but knew she’d failed to disguise the pain in her eyes.
“She misses you, Si,” he said gently. And there was that Si again. She wanted to tell him to stop calling her that but didn’t know how to without sounding petty. It didn’t sound calculated, just like old habit, so she let it go. The better solution was to wrap up this case and never spend another moment with him. Never look into his eyes. Never hear him call her Si again—or anything else for that matter. And why did that fleeting thought cause even more conflicting emotions to pummel her? And why did that only happen around Gavin and no one else?
“I miss her too,” she admitted, because it was true and suddenly the truth just felt easier than trying to lie when he—at least partially—still saw right through her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and her eyes met his, widening because she was surprised by the words. “I’m sorry for a lot, Si, but mostly I’m sorry that you lost Mirabelle.”
Sienna made a small pained sound but shook her head. “That part wasn’t your doing. It was my fault. I should have kept in touch,” she said. “At first, though . . . it was better for me to cut all ties.” She picked at the edge of her water bottle label. “Then later, when I’d settled into my new life in New York, when I had found happiness . . . moved on . . . it felt like contacting her—oh, I don’t know—might set me back, I guess.” Maybe she’d even worried it would nullify her happiness completely and she’d be right back to square one, the same spot she’d been in the day she’d knocked on Mirabelle’s trailer door in a rented, dirt-stained wedding dress. Sienna shook her head. “I’d be tempted to ask about you . . . and I really didn’t want to know . . .” Except she had. She had. And that had really been the problem. She let out a small laugh that held little amusement. “So I just left my life here completely behind.”
They were both silent for a few moments, the space between them full of the words that had never been said, the regret they both might carry, though Sienna didn’t necessarily want to get into the nitty-gritty of that. There was no real purpose, was there? They’d both moved on. She was practically engaged, and though fate had brought them back together, it was of a temporary nature.
Perhaps a small part of her really had never moved on, despite what she’d just told him. Perhaps, if she was going to credit fate for their reunion, the cosmic purpose—for her anyway—was so that she might work that final piece of him completely from her system. It proved to her that she could spend time with Gavin without melting into a pile of emotional goo; she could even dredge up the past and admit old hurts and still sleep peacefully that night. And then, when their time together came to a natural conclusion because her case was solved, she could go on her merry way and know that Gavin Decker no longer held any portion of her heart.