Page 74 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
Daniel returns with coffee and what looks like a chocolate croissant. “Want half?” he offers, breaking it down the middle.
“Yes,” I admit, staring at the flaky pastry like it holds all the answers to life’s secrets. My fingers brush his in the exchange, and a small spark of attraction flickers in my chest, followed immediately by guilt. And that’s when I know I can’t do this.
“I need to tell you something,” I blurt out before I can lose my nerve. “You seem really great, actually I’m sure you’re amazing and wonderful and I’ll probably regret this, but this is a huge mistake because I’m really not in a place to start a new relationship right now and it’s totally not your fault it’s just that my ex showed up in town last week and apparently he’s moved here from Iowa which is where we lived before I left him and now everything is confusing and I don’t know what I feel about him being here and it wouldn’t be fair to you to start something when I’m so confused and—”
I pause only because I’ve run out of oxygen. Daniel’s eyebrows have climbed steadily higher throughout mymonologue, but rather than looking offended or uncomfortable, his lips are twitching with what appears to be barely suppressed laughter.
“Do you always talk that fast when you’re nervous?” he asks, taking a casual sip of his coffee.
I feel heat rush to my face. “Only when I’m humiliating myself, which seems to happen often.”
Now he does laugh, a warm sound that somehow makes me feel less mortified. “Caitlin, it’s okay. Breathe.”
I obey, taking a deep gulp of air.
“First of all,” he continues, “thank you for being honest. That’s refreshing. Second, I’m totally fine with just being friends if that’s all you’re up for right now.”
“You are?” The relief that floods through me is embarrassingly strong.
“Of course. I asked you out because I think you’re interesting, and I’d like to get to know you better. That can happen as friends too.” He shrugs, breaking off a piece of his half of the croissant. “No pressure, no expectations.”
I study his face, looking for signs of disappointment or insincerity, but find none. “Most guys would be heading for the door right now,” I point out.
“I’m not most guys,” he says with a wink that’s so deliberately cheesy I can’t help but laugh. “Besides, my mom raised me better than that. She’d haunt me from the grave if I left a nice girl sitting alone at a coffee shop just because she didn’t want to date me.”
The tension drains from my shoulders. “Your mom sounds lovely.”
“She was.” His smile turns a bit wistful. “She died when I was sixteen. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, genuinely meaning it. “I lost my grandmother when I was eighteen. She raised me after my mom took off.”
Daniel nods, understanding in his eyes. “Looks like we’ve both got some family baggage.”
“Mine could fill a cargo ship,” I admit, taking a bite of the croissant. It’s delicious—buttery and rich with just the right amount of chocolate.
From there, the conversation flows more naturally. We talk about Cedar City, how it’s changed, and what we miss about the old days. He tells me about his work as a veterinarian, how he returned to Cedar City after college to work at the same clinic his mother had worked at. I tell him about Louise’s Table, about working alongside Uncle Peter, about our struggles to keep the doors open.
“That place is an institution,” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it’s struggling.”
“Turns out institutions don’t always keep up with the times,” I sigh. “We’re trying, but it’s hard to compete.”
“Maybe you don’t need to compete,” he suggests. “Maybe you just need to remind people why they loved it in the first place.”
It’s a simple observation, but it sticks with me, nudging at something I’ve been considering for a while now.
We chat for nearly an hour, and I’m surprised by how easy it is, how nice it feels to talk to someone without all the complications and history that come with Adam. Still, thoughts of Adam keep intruding. What would he think of Daniel? Is he really in Cedar City to stay? What does he want from me?
I push these thoughts aside, focusing instead on Daniel as he talks about some of the animals brought into his clinic. His self-deprecating humor and the way he uses his hands when he talks reminds me a little of my cousin Rachel.
When we finally finish our coffees, Daniel walks me to my car. “This was nice,” he says, hands in his pockets. “We should do it again sometime. As friends,” he adds with a smile.
“I’d like that,” I say, surprised to find I mean it. “Thanks for being so understanding about… everything.”
“No problem.” He reaches out and gives my shoulder a light, friendly squeeze. “Just remember, you don’t owe your ex anything, Caitlin. Whatever you decide about him being here, make sure it’s what you want, not what you think you should want.”
I nod, touched by his insight. As I drive away, I feel lighter somehow, less tangled up inside. I still don’t know what to do about Adam, but at least I’ve made a new friend. In Cedar City’s rapidly changing landscape, that feels like something worth holding onto.
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