Emma waited, wondering if she would ever catch her breath as long as she was sitting across from him. She gripped the chair arms and studied him through her tinted sunglasses. “I was curious.” She let the salty air wash over her face.
Relax, Emma
, she told herself.
He’s just passing through town. Nothing more.
But her grip was so strong her knuckles were white. “Why now?”
He leaned his forearms on the table, closer to her than before. But he turned toward the water and for a long time he stayed quiet. She waited, because it was his turn. She owed him nothing. No explanation, no description of her life or her time since he’d walked away. He was the one who showed up … let him do the talking. She studied him, his hands and arms, the toned muscles that showed through his rolled-up Carolina blue button-down shirt. He was still striking. Still the Brad Cutler who had stolen her heart on an elementary school playground a lifetime ago.
Finally he removed his sunglasses and set them at the center of the table. He leaned back in his chair and faced her, looking straight into her soul the way he’d always been able to do. “I’m engaged. I wanted you to know.”
The ground beneath her seemed to open up and swallow every thing but her body. At least that’s how she felt. Like she was no longer connected to herself. What had he said? Had he really told her … he was engaged? Brad Cutler was getting married. Adrenaline flooded her veins and her mouth went suddenly dry. For way too long she sat there, not remembering how to exhale, not feeling her heartbeat. Was this why he had come? To share this bit of cruel news with her? She finally inhaled sharply, and as she did she stood and walked to the cement wall at the edge of the café patio. Carefully, she stepped over it and sat down facing the beach. He was engaged? His news hit her in a crashing series of emotions, one with each set of waves that pounded the distant shore. She could feel him sitting there behind her, his ambiguity. She heard him slide his chair out, and then hesitate and slide it back in. Clearly he had no idea how to handle her reaction. Shock gave way to a fury Emma hadn’t known since the week he told her good-bye. She wanted to grab her purse and leave. How dare he come here now and tell her this? She’d been fine, living her life, getting on without him. Why come now?
Her anger finally found the upper hand. She eased her legs back over the wall and returned to her seat. The crashing surf was nothing compared to the pounding of her heart. “You’re engaged?” She sounded mystified. “That’s why you came here? To tell me that?”
“No.” He looked helpless, like he wanted to come around to her side of the table and hold her. But he stayed seated. “I needed to talk to you. I couldn’t … I couldn’t move on otherwise.”
So that’s what this was? Some sort of conscience-clearing exercise? She felt the sting of tears, and she gritted her teeth. “Maybe I don’t want to talk.”
“I can respect that.” He seemed nervous — not at all normal for the unflappable Brad Cutler. He stared deeply into her eyes. “Please, Emma. Let me have this time. I feel like … we both need it.”
The last thing she wanted to do was cry. He didn’t deserve her tears or her time. But she stayed, her cheeks hot. Not because he asked her to stay, but because something he’d said had struck a chord. Maybe … maybe this was something they both needed. She forced herself to take calm breaths, and gradually the shock wore off and the threat of tears lessened.
Deal with it, Emma. Stay strong.
Brad was getting married. He wasn’t here looking to start something new with her.
She reached into her purse, pulled out a hair band, and caught her hair up in a ponytail. Then she settled back into her chair, still fighting for composure. “When … when’s the wedding?”
“Soon.” Brad sounded defeated, like maybe he, too, was doubting his reasons for being here. “June 26.”
Emma felt another ripple of shock. “Four weeks? You’re getting married in four weeks?”
“I am.”
A sound more disbelief than laughter came from her and she fought the urge to stand up again. Instead she gripped the chair arms once more and stared at him. “Your fiancée’s okay with this? With you being here?”
“No.” His eyes filled with a painful honesty. “I told her the truth. That I had to come.”
“What … she’s home working on wedding plans?”
Brad looked wounded, like she’d kicked him in the gut and now he was struggling to stay upright. “I’m not sure what she’s doing. There might not be a wedding after this. I don’t know.”
Emma’s head was spinning. Nothing Brad said was lining up. He was getting married in four weeks, but here he was, sitting across from her on Holden Beach. What did that say about his relationship with his fiancée or his feelings from their long-ago yesterdays? “Why, Brad?” Her voice was choked again with angry tears. For her, for the past they shared. For Brad’s fiancée. “Why now?”
“Because,” Brad’s chin quivered, and his voice broke. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting for control. It took awhile for him to find the words, but finally he looked into her eyes again. “I can’t start that chapter … until I finish this one.”
For a brief instant, Emma wondered if he was going to mention their baby, if he would acknowledge the life they’d created, the life they’d lost. But he didn’t.
He reached out his hand, desperation written into his expression. “Please, Emma. Give me this weekend. God alone brought me here. There are so many things I need to say.”
Emma kept her hands to herself. She could feel her heart ripping apart. She watched him, the sorrow in his eyes, and some of her anger faded. However misguided, he wasn’t here only for himself. He believed they both needed this time, and maybe they did. Maybe he was having doubts about his fiancée and he needed to find Emma to know whether he should move ahead … or find his way back.
She wanted to ask him if he truly loved her, this other woman he’d fallen for. The one he was about to marry. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She didn’t want to know anything about her. Brad’s fiancée. Not her name or where she lived or how they met. None of it. Maybe Brad was right about the chapters. Emma had loved him first, and if he needed this weekend to know whether he could move ahead, then she could give him that much. Maybe it would take that for him to see what he’d walked away from. If she did give him this time, she wouldn’t ask questions about his fiancée. Brad was here now, where he belonged to her. Only her.
He still had his hand stretched out toward her, and suddenly she couldn’t stop herself. The emotions were too strong, the memories too great. She slid her hand across the table and allowed his fingers to take hold of hers. His touch was electric and mind-numbing all at the same time. Because this was Brad Cutler across from her, his hand, the hand she’d held a thousand times, holding tight to her fingers once again. His eyes never left hers. “Please, Emma. Can we have this?”
Her words failed her, so she nodded and clutched his hand tighter than before. Then, drawing on all the strength she could summon, she released his fingers and withdrew her hand back to her lap. “When do you fly home?”
“Monday night.”
His answer stood like the edge of a cliff in her mind. Monday night. Three days. Seventy-two hours to let Brad tell her whatever it was he wanted to say, to remember with him and allow her heart to find him again. He wasn’t married yet, so maybe he was here because he still loved her. Emma hated feeling that way, because somewhere his fiancée was probably devastated by his trip here. But if he was going to marry her, Brad was right. They needed time now. After this they couldn’t go back, couldn’t have a weekend like this. Whatever they needed to say to each other, they would have to say it over the next three days no matter how much heartache it caused.
Because almost certainly they wouldn’t have this chance again.
B
RAD TRIED TO EAT HIS SALAD
, but his appetite was gone. Telling Emma about his engagement was harder than he had imagined. But at least he knew this much — Emma wasn’t going to run away. She was giving him the weekend, which meant he could talk about the baby and make his apologies later. Tomorrow maybe.
For now he wanted to find common ground, at least. He wanted her to know he cared about how she was now, who she’d become. Holding her hand — however briefly — had bridged the distance between them, but it had done nothing to dim the hurt. With everything in him he wanted to take her in his arms and soothe away the sadness for both of them. Now that he was with her, he could see that she wasn’t okay. The choices they’d made together had haunted her and changed her and left her broken. Whereas he had run from the past, allowing first his college days, then his relationship with Laura to cover up the damaged pieces of his soul … she had done nothing of the sort. At least that’s how it seemed.
“So you’re a teacher.” He smiled, wanting their time together to be marked by more than sadness.
“Yes.” She kept her sunglasses on, not letting him in. “First grade.”
“That’s what I heard.” He poked his fork around in his salad. “I remember how good you were with my little cousin. You were always good with kids.”
She looked at him for a long time, but she said nothing. He’d only been making polite conversation, searching for a connection point. Her reaction was strange, not what he expected. Was she thinking about … about what happened between them? He wasn’t ready to ask. In the silence that followed, she ate a few bites of her salad and he did the same. Was this how their time together would be? Marked by awkward moments and misunderstandings?
He asked her about a few of the friends they had in common, including the buddy of his who now lived in Holden Beach. That part of the conversation lasted through dinner, and finally it was time to go. He thought about asking her to walk along the beach with him, but he sensed she was still processing the news of his engagement. Still wondering about his intentions. He didn’t have the energy to get into it now. He needed to get back to his parents’ house and talk to Laura. Before it got too late.
He paid the bill and they walked out to the parking lot together. The feel of her beside him — even though they weren’t touching — was familiar and alluring. More than he wanted to admit. At her car, he slid his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and searched for the right words. “Thanks again. For being here.” He kept his distance intentionally. Earlier he’d wanted to hug her, to create a bridge from yesterday to the here and now. But here he wasn’t sure a hug would be good for either of them.
She opened her car door and set her purse and sunglasses inside. For the first time since dinner he could see her eyes. They were marked with both hurt and uncertainty, and she seemed in a hurry to go. “So … what’s next?”
“I can meet you here tomorrow. Your house or at the beach.”
Emma looked out toward the beach for a moment. “No.” She narrowed her eyes, as if she were seeing something far-off. “Where Dolphin meets Ocean Boulevard. Through the houses, there’s a wall near the bluff.” She glanced at him. “I can meet you there.”
“Okay.” He knew the place. His buddy had said she lived near the beach, but clearly she wasn’t giving him that information. Not now, anyway. “What time works for you?”
“I have paperwork to finish up in the morning. How about three o’clock?”
Brad hid his disappointment. He had hoped to spend the whole day with her, but then … there wasn’t really a reason why he needed so much time. He nodded, and again he resisted the impulse to hug her. “Three it is.” He didn’t hesitate. No sense making things awkward between them. They both said good-bye and climbed into their separate cars.
A minute later Brad was back on the road, headed home to Wilmington. The sun was setting, casting orange and blue light over the roadway and taking him back — the way everything about Holden Beach did. Even this drive. He remembered the first time, when he and Emma had gone too far. The ride home was silent, awkward. Much like the conversation over dinner had been tonight.
He rolled down the window and breathed in deep, the warm Carolina air filling his Jeep and his senses. What was Laura doing right now? Certainly she had talked to her dad, found out that he knew the truth. Walking into his office and talking to him had been one of the toughest things Brad had ever done. But there was no way around it. If he was going to take responsibility for his actions, he had to tell Randy James what he was doing.
Brad thought about their conversation. He’d expected Laura’s father to be shocked and then angry — about the admission and the timing. All of it. Instead, he’d taken half a minute to walk to his office window and then back to the table where Brad sat. Then he’d said something Brad would never forget. “Everyone has a past, Son. Better that you deal with yours now than later.”
How Laura’s father had handled the news was further proof that marrying Laura was the right thing. She shared his faith and his views on every topic that mattered. And her family loved him. So then why was he driving back to Wilmington with plans to meet Emma at the beach tomorrow? He would get to the heart of the matter quickly, and maybe … maybe he would head home early. Tomorrow night even. He needed Laura to know that he hadn’t changed his love for her.
Even if being around Emma had breathed life into feelings he thought long dead.
He dug around the passenger seat and found his cell phone. With a few clicks, he dialed Laura’s number, but the call went to her voicemail. “Hey, baby, it’s me. Just thinking about you. I’ll try you again later.”
But later never came. Brad pulled into his driveway and found his mom in the kitchen. He helped her can twenty-four jars of strawberry jam. His mom didn’t really know why he was here, and she didn’t seem interested in knowing. The entire hour they spent together that night, she said only this about the wedding: “I like Laura a lot.”
“Me too.” Brad grinned, keeping the tone between them easy. Laura had been back to North Carolina with him several times since they started dating. She and Brad’s mother always got along well.