He nodded jerkily. “Yeah. Sure. Of course. I won’t accept any offers until I hear from you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She was smiling again, but it wasn’t the smile he remembered. She seemed cooler than she used to be—not brimming with warmth and life and humor and generosity. It had always seemed like she was filled with so many good things that they simply spilled out of her.
They weren’t spilling now. Maybe she’d changed. Or more likely she just didn’t want to share her good things with him anymore.
He deserved it.
He was the one who had left.
“Of course. No problem.” So far, in this conversation, he hadn’t managed to speak a sentence of more than four words. He wished he could be as cool as she was. Even if it would be an act, at least maybe he could convince her that he’d gotten over her the way she had him. “So how have things been going for you?”
That was better. A longish sentence in a fairly natural voice.
“Good.” She was smiling again. Cool and far too distant. “Really good. Second Chance Flower Shop has been amazingly successful. I really can’t believe it. It’s a miracle.”
“It’s not a miracle though, is it? It’s because you’re smart and talented.”
She gave him a half shrug. “Maybe. But a lot of people are smart and talented and don’t find success. It’s luck as much as anything else. Plus Skye is really good on social media.”
“Yeah. I guess. But it’s got to be more you than anyone else.”
“It’s not.” She was frowning now even though he’d intended the comment as a compliment. “Madeline and Skye are just as important to the business as I am.”
He was about to respond—try to take back the idea that had evidently offended her—but the chime on the door sounded just then.
They both turned to look.
Jacob knew the man who entered. Billy something. He’d been a couple of years before them in school. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and he was smiling as he came in.
Smiling at Ria. Jacob wasn’t going to be confused about that detail.
“Hey, Billy,” Ria said, smiling in response. Her smile looked more like herself now. Sincere. Spilling over with good things.
Jacob experienced an immediate and uncontrollable surge of resentment.
Why did Billy get that smile from her when he didn’t?
“Hey, I’m not interrupting, am I?” For the first time, Billy glanced over at Jacob, as if he’d just realized he was there.
“No, not at all. You remember Jacob Worth?”
Billy’s eyebrows drew together. “Yeah. I think so. Good to see you.” Then he turned back to Ria, who was obviously his main point of interest here. “Hey, are you free on Saturday night?”
Jacob blinked. Did Billy not remember that he and Ria dated for years in high school? Or did he simply not care if it was awkward to ask her when Jacob was standing right there listening?
If Ria felt awkward, she didn’t show it. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t... I don’t think so.”
“Please say you’re free. We’ve got a church picnic and concert thing, and I desperately need someone to go with me.”
“Oh.” Ria glanced briefly from Billy to Jacob and then back. “I think I’m free.”
“Perfect. So you’ll go with me?”
“Uh. Sure.” She gave Jacob another quick flick of her eyes, and he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. “Why not?”
“Fantastic. I’ll pick you up about six?”
“I’ll be ready. Thanks.”
To Jacob’s relief, Billy made a quick exit.
If he hadn’t, Jacob would have been tempted to give him a good, hard punch.
What the hell?
When did it become standard practice to ask someone out right in front of their ex? Even if there were no lingering feelings, it was just rude.
And why would Ria be going out with Billy anyway? He wasn’t her type. At all. He was friendly enough but shallow. Not smart enough or deep enough for her.
She’d never be happy with him.
Jacob needed to rein in the sudden flood of feelings—jealousy being the primary one—before Ria could see it in the tension of his body. He purposefully loosened his fingers from the fists he’d been clenching. He breathed deeply a few times.
It was fine.
It was just a date to a church picnic.
Ria wasn’t going to fall in love with Billy. Get married. Have kids. Fall forever out of his reach—even in his daydreams, which was all he had left of her now.
“Sorry about that,” Ria said after the door closed behind Billy. “Kind of weird for him to do that when you were standing right there.”
“It’s fine.” Jacob managed to shrug. “He probably didn’t even remember that we were... a thing. Way back when.” He hated the sound of his own words. How dismissive they were. As if she hadn’t been the best thing that had ever happened in his life.
“Yeah. Probably not. Anyway, thanks for considering us for any offers. We’re working on a few things. And if you decide you want to hang on to the property, that would be great too.”
Jacob took a deep breath. He was being dismissed. Still simmering with resentment over what felt like another man encroaching on what should still be his, he blew it out purposefully.
Ria wasn’t his.
She wasn’t anyone’s.
She was a human being with her own mind and her own life and her own will and her own desires.
For a while, she’d wanted to share some of who she was with him, but that time was over now.
He’d made his own decisions a long time ago, and those decisions had led to this.
Four
ON FRIDAY OF THE FOLLOWING week, Ria sat in her car in front of the old Worth house and tried to remember the last time she’d been there.
It was the day before her high school graduation. She’d come over to hang out with Jacob for the afternoon, and they’d sat for a couple of hours on the freestanding bench swing in the backyard, talking about college and future plans.
Jacob had been planning to go to UVA with her. He’d been enrolled. He’d had a spot in the dorms. He’d done everything just like she had.
Then he’d changed his mind and dropped out the very next day.
She still didn’t understand it. He’d said his grandfather thought it was better for him to work for a while before college, but surely Jacob hadn’t had to do what his grandfather demanded. He’d been eighteen. He could have done what he wanted. Even if he’d changed his mind about college, he didn’t have to cut all ties with her.
He could have gotten a job in Charlottesville. Or he could have stayed in Azalea, and she would still have seen him every time she visited home.
There was absolutely no reason to carve her out of his life completely because of some weird whim of his grandfather’s, but that was exactly what he’d done.
It still hurt so bad. More so now that she’d seen him again. Remembered the sound of his voice. The look in his eyes. He might have changed more than she could have imagined, but there was still enough of him in him for her to vividly recall what they’d had.