I spent a lot of time with her and both her parents and Gram. My dad was barely home, spending most of his nights in the town’s drunk tank. Hell, until I met Patricia, Macey and I were inseparable, and before the eldest Kells sibling dug her fingers into me, I thought Macey and I would end up together.
First kiss, first love. It was like a cheesy rom-com. Then along came Patricia and my dumbass slide into a decade of one shitty decision after another.
And now look at dear old Dad? Mayor of our small slice of mountainous paradise while I’m still trying to repent.
That anger rises in my chest all over again, and I push to my feet, knowing there’s no damn way I’m going back to sleep now.
I reach over to lift my black T-shirt from the coffee table. Shrugging into the soft fabric, I head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I pause by her door, pressing a hand to the wood. I can imagine her in there now, wrapped in blankets. Sleeping peacefully.
How differently would my life have been had I done something after our first kiss? If I’d told her how I felt instead of running scared. But that moment, shit, even after all this time I can see her standing beneath that waterfall with me, feel the softness of her lips on mine. After that kiss though, after spending that weekend with her and Maax, then going home to my drunk dad and getting my ass whooped because I’d burned dinner—I realized just how different we were.
She deserved better than me and my crappy family. So I’d sought comfort in the only other person who I’d thought was as broken as me. By the time I realized my error, it was too late. Shaking my head, I try to clear the memories and focus on the future. Dwelling on the past is only going to send me spiraling.
Five minutes later, I’m climbing into my truck and pulling out of the drive. It’s only four in the morning, so most everyone is still sleeping in our little town. As I drive through downtown, I pass Daily Donut’s, the only place in town with lights on.
I continue driving until I’m pulling up in front of Gram’s café, where I park my truck and climb out into the cool air.
This time of day is probably my favorite. It could be how calm everything is, how in the dark, it’s harder to see the ghosts still haunting me. But I think deep down it’s because it feels peaceful, quiet.
And I’m desperate for some fucking peace. For my brain to quiet even if only for a moment.
Using the key Gram gave me, I unlock the front door and step inside. I have so many good memories of this place.
So many happy ones that saw me sitting at a table with Macey, scarfing down a pizza and root beer.
Man, those were the days. When things were easy, uncomplicated.
Now, I’m plagued with my past while I’m haunted by the person I wish could be my future. Even if it is only as a friend.
I hate myself for it, hate that she makes me feel so weak. But I can’t help it. Macey has always had a hold on me even if I didn’t want to admit it. And it seems now her hold is even fucking stronger than ever.
And she couldn’t give two shits about me. My timing has always been crap, but maybe if I’d gone to her—apologized when I realized how unhappy I was—she could have found it in her to forgive me.
I shake my head in an attempt to clear it, and when that doesn’t work, I head up the stairs to my future apartment.
My bag of tools waits for me just inside the door, and I strap on my tool belt, hoping that maybe the sound of the remodel could drown it all out.
Macey
Coffees in hand, I step off the elevator and into the hall of the hospital. It’s relatively quiet at eight this morning, visitor hours having only just started.
I smile at the nurses I pass, making my way down the hall to my gram’s room. According to the doctor, she gets to go home in a few days, and I can practically feel her excitement as I stop outside her door.
My gram is not someone who likes to be told what to do and when to do it, so a hospital is pretty much her nightmare.
Her door is cracked, so I use my hip to push it open the rest of the way, and she looks up from the book she’s reading.
“Morning!” I greet cheerfully.
“Well, good morning. This is a surprise.”
I snort and hand her a coffee. “Me? Or the coffee?”
“Both.” She grins. “How are you?”
“Good. Spent the night researching new stuff for the café.”
She lifts a grey eyebrow. “New stuff?”
“Yeah, I wanted to run some stuff by you.”
“Okay.” She sets her coffee down on the tray in front of her, right beside a book titled Guardian Of Magick by the same author she was reading yesterday. “Hit me.”
“I was looking into your books—sales numbers and all that—and I think I found a solid plan to raise your foot traffic.”
Her mouth flattens in a tight line, and she smooths the blanket over her lower half. “You’ve been busy.”
“You and Dad need it, Gram.”
“Go on.”
“I want to go to the bank and see about taking out a business loan so I can spruce the place up. I think with a new stove and a few extra—”
“No, Macey.”
My stomach sinks even though I was expecting her first answer to be no. Gram is stubborn, but unfortunately for her, so am I. This café is getting fixed up one way or another. “Why not?”
“I don’t want you spending a ton of time on it. You already have so much on your plate.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not going back to school anytime soon, Gram,” I tell her. “I’m going to work at the café. You guys need it. I need it. It’s always been the plan for me to take over. You are the one who insisted that I get my master’s.”
“You could do so much more.” She shakes her head sadly. “You could be in some big city somewhere, running a huge restaurant. Not trapped in this small town, barely scraping by with my café.”
“First of all, I have always wanted to take over the café when you retire, you know that. And second of all, the café could turn a decent profit with the right plan, Gram.”
“You don’t need to waste your life,” she snaps. I’m taken aback, surprised by the anger on her face.
Don’t get me wrong, my gram can put up a fight, and when I was a kid, her lowered voice terrified me more than anyone yelling at me ever did. But this anger seems so out of place.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I think we should close the doors—for good.”
Her words catch me off guard. I gape at her, a mixture of grief and anger swirling around inside of me as I fight to keep a rational head. “Absolutely not,” I say. “Gram, that place is your life. I want it to be mine.”
Hazy eyes misting, she looks up at me. “Do you know how many years I’ve spent buried in that place? How many wasted opportunities? You’re young, beautiful, smart. You could go anywhere—do anything.”
“I don’t want to do anything. I want to be here, with you and Dad and that café.”
She shakes her head. “What has that place given me? A broken hip and a mountain of debt. You deserve better.”