Page 74 of Booked on You
“Are you just visiting?” I reply.
“I’ve moved back,” she says. “I missed a lot of things about Charleston.”
I haven’t seen her in over a year; it had been the last time she was in town. She was looking for a hookup, or testing me, maybe. Regardless, she didn’t get what she wanted.
“Well, honey, welcome back,” Millie says in her saccharine sweet tone. “How’s your mama doin’?”
“Mama’s doing good. She told me I needed to stop by and grab a few of those cinnabuns you make.”
Millie grins, grabs a pink bag, and slides two inside. She hands them over to Sara. “On the house.”
I lean against the counter, watching the exchange go down.
“Thanks, Millie,” Sara says, then moves toward the door. “Actually,” she says, turning back to me. “Can we talk? Privately?”
Millie glances between us, and concern flashes across her features. My aunt doesn’t like Sara, for good reason.
“Sure,” I answer, motioning outside. We step in front of the bakery, standing by the large windows. From my peripheral, I can see Millie watching us. I’m sure she’ll read our lips; she’s a pro at it.
Tension tightens my shoulders.
Sara stands in front of me, tucking one hand into a pocket of the tight jeans she’s wearing. Her perfume drifts forward, familiar but no longer inviting. It used to be one of the things I loved about her—the way the scent lingered long after she’d left a room. Now, it feels intrusive.
“How have you been, Ezra?” she asks.
“I’ve been good,” I reply, keeping my distance both emotionally and physically. “Busy.”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear—a nervous habit I’ve seen her do countless times. “I went to the shop. Was told you were on vacation.”
“I am,” I confirm, not giving her any more information than what’s necessary.
The conversation grows awkward, but my posture is relaxed. “What did you want to discuss?”
I see vulnerability breaking through her composed facade. “I owe you an apology. For everything. The way things ended between us. I realize now that I was being selfish.”
I study her, seeing sincerity in her eyes that was missing years ago. “I appreciate you saying that, but I’ve made peace with it, Sara.”
Her expression softens. “I know I hurt you. I hurt myself, too. I should’ve never made you choose.”
“I couldn’t give you the attention you need,” I tell her, feeling nothing but a strange sort of calm. “It’s in the past. I don’t live there anymore.”
She smiles. “I know. I don’t either, but I was hoping we could have dinner. I’d love to talk and hang out. See if there’s anything left between us.”
It’s not like Sara to be so direct.
“Uh.” I run my fingers through my hair, not sure what to say, but I know with undeniable certainty that what we had is long gone.
“I’m sorry,” I say gently but firmly. “You know I don’t look backward. I promised you that when things ended, it would be over forever. I meant that.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Her voice trembles. “I’m still in love with you, Ezra. I know it’s been years, but I’ve looked for you in every man I’ve dated since we broke up.”
The admission hangs between us.
I meet her gaze. “I’m seeing someone, Sara.”
The expression on her face tells me this isn’t the answer she was expecting. “What?”
“Don’t act so shocked,” I mutter.
