Chapter Five
Graham
I f you ever meet a woman named Lily, run. That’s it. That’s my advice. After thirty-two years of life, this is the greatest lesson I’ve learned. If your name is Lily or you know a Lily who doesn’t live in Birch Borough or visit LA for a chocolatier-intensive course, fine. I’m sure she is fantastic. But this Lily, the Lily who lives in Birch Borough, has ruined my life.
The stool I’m sitting on shifts uncomfortably as I look out into the street. I rest my elbows on the high-top counter, the glass in front of it giving me a clear view of the edge of town closest to the post office. It’s not the busiest section, but it’s not the outskirts either.
A barely touched cappuccino sits in front of me. It looks deflated, the bitterness of the brew a reminder of the best cup of coffee I’ve had in this town and which I haven’t tasted since I first arrived. As if on cue, a couple walks past the window with to-go cups and pastry bags, unknowingly taunting me as I sit in a coffee shop that isn’t Sparrow’s Beret. The signature sparrow logo on the cups and small white bags mocks me, especially since I was told never to enter the bakery again by Lily herself.
I used to feel like I could succeed at love. But falling in love with her, much like the sub-par coffee I’ve been consuming, nearly crushed me. I can still smell her perfume and hear her laugh in my dreams. It’s nestled between my mind and ribs (however that science works) and has almost made me forget who I am. Because no matter how hard I’ve tried, no matter how many times I’ve told myself to move on, she’s still stuck in my system. And there’s nothing I’ve been able to do to get her out.
Is she the reason I decided to leave my home in Boston and make the move to Birch Borough? Possibly (that’s a “yes”). During our weeks together in LA, Lily described her small, quiet hometown. It was obvious she loved it, but she also thought the sheer number of town events and how everyone was in everyone else’s business was pure insanity. I knew she co-owned a café called Sparrow’s Beret. According to Lily, they made the best maple croissants in New England. When she repeatedly mentioned her best friend and another woman named Lucy, who gave her extra ice cream at some local diner, I heard the affection in her voice. She made it all sound so . . . charming.
Oh, and Lily’s declaration that her town was the place to go if I was ever heartbroken? Yeah, that stuck.
After Lily left (for grand adventures around the world, she said), her words stayed on repeat in my mind, especially when I felt burned out with work, or during a late-night commute from Boston to New York, or over a long flight back to LA. There came a day when, suddenly, after months of thinking about Lily every day, small-town life seemed like the cure for me too.
It may have been a poor decision, but after one particularly long week in court on too many cases, I sold both of my homes in Boston and LA. On a whim, I found an apartment in the town I remembered her speaking so fondly of, which conveniently runs daily trains to Boston. I was looking forward to the slower pace of life, the peace. Everything was working out perfectly. Until . . . I saw her again.
I never thought Lily would be in Birch Borough. Adjacent? Possibly. She had to have family nearby. But living here ? Lily told me at least a dozen times that we were going to travel the world for the next five years. She would make all the chocolate things. We would see the world together. We’d go on safari to see “real life” elephants, visit Buckingham Palace to harass the palace guards, and eat Thai food in Thailand just to say we did. Oh, yeah, just so it’s clear, I was included in those plans.
Soon after I moved to town, my best friend, Rafe, arrived to stay while I traveled on business. By the time my head cleared and I realized I still had feelings for Lily, it was too late. Rafe was in love, and I had already messed up any chance of reconciling with Lily.
It happened just after I landed from LA. I was waiting for the moving truck and wandering through town to kill time. I stumbled across Sparrow’s Beret. By some twist of fate, I was helped by someone named Anna, with neither Sparrow nor Lily at the register when I went in. So, there I was, outside my new apartment, full of the best French croissants of my life and buzzing with coffee. I was unloading items from the back of the moving truck, and then I saw her standing in front of me like I had wished so many times. The burning in my limbs and chest told me that nothing had changed. I was still in love with her—maybe more than ever.
When she opened her mouth, the words that crept out of mine were to tell her I couldn’t do it again. In reality, I was talking to my own heart. If she tried to explain, it might have destroyed me. When it came to Lily, the only thing I could control was refusing to hear another word about us. Lord knows I had already thought through every scenario for her reasoning for breaking up with me. None of it could be good.
Her response was anger and a warning to never step foot in her shop again. And so, as the months have passed, I haven’t, no matter how much I’ve wanted another croissant.
Now, our best friends are getting married. My duties as best man must be my priority, even if I’ve managed to land in the middle of wedding planning with the bride’s maid of honor . . . Lily. Tonight is the first time we’ll be near each other for any length of time without something else going on as a distraction. It’s the future bride and groom and us—there won’t be many places for our attention to go.
I wander toward the tiny stone church where Rafe and Sparrow wait. The church is at least three hundred years old and is where I’m meeting the people (besides my mother) that I hold most dear. As I walk up the mossy stone steps, I ask myself how I’ve managed to get into the mess that putting myself within Lily’s orbit again will create. My eyes catch on her immediately when I enter the nave of the church, the back of her high blonde ponytail hanging over the wooden pew toward the front. The sight of it nearly crushes my resolve.
I lean against the stone wall at the back of the church, preferring to stay out of sight for now. Lily and I seem to be the only ones from our party present and accounted for.
You wouldn’t know the strength of my feelings for her from the way things are now. It once only took a week of being hypnotized by her otherworldly grey eyes and the sway of her ponytail as she walked, moved, laughed, or fought. In the right light, her eyes take on a subtle hint of dried lavender. I was quickly on board with trying to love her for the rest of my life. Was it fast? Very. Stupid? In my case, also, very.
I’m not an impulsive man. I make careful, calculated decisions. And though I can see in hindsight that we moved quickly, I can also see evidence that she felt the same. I bought a ring. A vintage one with light purple stones around the diamond because the color reminded me of the shade that I used to see when the sun hit her eyes just right. I still see her face when she spotted the jewelry box in my pocket.
I lost my best friend and the love of my life in a single night. And my soul knows there is nothing in me that is over her or ever could be.
It also doesn’t help that I tossed the ring box toward the ocean and have tried to forget it exists. I wouldn’t return it. I couldn’t keep it. And she didn’t want it. It’s probably drifted far out into the ocean by now and is friends with a sea turtle at this point. I hope they’re happy.
Suddenly, my mouth tastes bitter, even though I’m only drinking water. A choir is rehearsing on the stage of this admittedly charming setting. I’m guessing Liam is somewhere nearby. He owns The Music Shop and is good friends with Rafe and now me as well. I’m thankful to have another friend in town. It was a rough start when I landed here. I’m still being vetted by the townspeople. While I’ve got the best job in the world now that I’m managing Rafe’s music career (which is going splendidly, if I do say so myself), and I have an apartment that’s not in the city, in a town that is perfect for adopting a big dog when I find the right house, it’s clear that everyone in Birch Borough loves Lily. (They also seem to fear her.)
While no one knows the full story between us—shockingly, not even Sparrow or Rafe, for that matter—I’m the odd one out. The tension between us is palpable. As a result, people are staying at a distance. Everyone is nice but cautious. They clearly don’t know what to do with me. And since we reunited in the oddest of circumstances, I don’t know what to do with myself either.
I didn’t expect to move here and have to prove I’m a good man. I somehow always thought that if I was a good man—if I could make the world better—the gnawing in my gut that tells me I need to try harder would quit. I didn’t anticipate feeling an even stronger desire to prove myself—to prove that I’m nothing like my father, who tended to live on the wrong side of the law. Becoming a lawyer was supposed to tip the scales, balance the books, and help people in as many ways as my father wronged them. My mom raised me to be a man I’d be proud of. I’ve tried to honor her. And while my father’s choices still keep me up at night, now they are accompanied by the reflection of animosity in Lily’s eyes.
But I’m here to stay. I like the quiet pace of this town. I want people to get to know me. I’m ready to plant some roots here. I’m less than an hour’s drive from my mom, and the train runs into the city. Even if I feel like my soul is limping every time I see that blonde ponytail in my peripheral vision, I plan to make Birch Borough my home.
Besides, I’m rooming with my best friend, Rafe, until the wedding. We’re living the life. Just two early thirty-somethings, one heartbroken and one ready to take on the world. How could moving here have been a mistake when he found everything he ever wanted?
I finally catch sight of Sparrow and Rafe in a dimly lit corner of the old church. They must be waiting for the choir to finish rehearsals. Even from afar, they look more in love than ever as they sit next to each other. Rafe holds a guitar on his lap. He’s singing softly to Sparrow, who is looking at him like he’s her whole world. I remember that feeling. I want that feeling again. I’d give anything to know what it is like to have someone look at me with eyes that see beyond the collected persona I present on the surface. While I dated plenty of women before I met Lily, no one made me want to give up everything to love them. Women tend to quickly get bored when they realize how reserved I am, or they ghost me for someone a little less analytical.
Or they reject me because I’m not a Frenchman. I peek over at Sparrow and Rafe again and can’t help but grin. Once, a few months after moving here, after seeing Sparrow occasionally on my previous morning commute, I decided to try to kick off my dating life again. I approached Sparrow on a train platform in Boston. I asked her out and tried to sell her on all my good qualities. She rejected me because, as she declared, “You’re not French.” Ironically, she found her Frenchman in Rafe. Surely, if my friend found that kind of love, I can find it too, right?
The first time I noticed the lily tattooed on Sparrow’s wrist, I realized how deeply Lily had dug herself into the soil of my heart. Because she is in everything I see now. Everything I feel and every dream I have, she’s stamped her name on. If they could ever sell a stain remover pen for the stains that plague our minds, I would invest immediately.
I knew I needed Lily in my life from the afternoon we met, but she must not have felt the same. While I immediately valued her independent spirit, it ended up being the very thing that tapped into one of my biggest fears—being useless to those I love. I’d hoped she would need me as much as I needed her, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
The worst thing that has happened isn’t Lily breaking up with me. It’s knowing in my bones that no woman will ever live up to her in my heart. She pushed me away, and I shouldn’t want her—need her—and yet every part of me knows that I do.
The cold from the stone wall starts to sink through my suit as I wait. Participating in a wedding when you’re single and looking for love is already its own kind of challenge. Being in a wedding with the woman who rejected you while you wished she would love you back is a nightmare.
∞∞∞
“Okay,” Sparrow says from her little perch on the stone stairs leading up to the altar where she and Rafe will exchange their vows in a few months. “We just wanted to gather the two of you here to see where we’re getting married, of course . . .” she continues.
I glance over my shoulder toward Lily in the row behind me. She hasn’t spoken to me yet. Her presence feels like a necktie that needs loosening. My fists clench at my sides for the effect she still has on me. Her hair is pulled up in her signature ponytail, a sight that makes my heart beat faster and drives me nuts. The way her grey eyes catch the soft light filtering in through the windows of the church is enough to drive a man wild. Forget the dimple that always plays at the corner of her mouth. I see it, even though I know she’s doing her best to avoid acknowledging me.
“And that’s why you two will be the glue that holds this wedding together.”
I startle, suddenly aware that I’ve just missed key information. Distracted by Lily, I don’t know what Sparrow just said. I’m trained to be on the case, to remember everything said in the court of law. But right now, I’ve got nothing.
“Are you okay, Graham?” Sparrow asks.
“Yeah, George,” Lily adds with a hint of mischief in her tone. She stands and moves to my row, the hair on my arms rising in response to her nearness. My attraction to her hasn’t dimmed, even in the heartache. She knows me enough to know I wasn’t fully present a moment ago, which means the dimple sighting was because she knew I was about to choke—a rookie move on my part.
“I’m . . . fine, Sparrow.” I’m proud that my voice doesn’t waver but less proud that I’ve made Rafe raise his eyebrows with a knowing look directed my way.
“I know it’s a lot,” Sparrow continues softly. “But we just can’t think of two people we’d want to be a part of our day more than you two.”
I feel sweat breaking out on my forehead. I have no idea what she means, but for this couple, I know I’m all in.
I don’t feel I’m familiar enough with Sparrow to call her by her nickname, Rory, like almost everyone else. I notice she strictly calls me Graham, though, unlike Rafe, who has his own private nickname for me. Once, he and I were in line for some overpriced tacos at a restaurant in LA. An actress from a Hallmark movie was in line as well. (I didn’t know it at the time, but I looked her up later that night.) She told me I was handsome enough to be a lead in the movies. In fact, she wanted me to act with her during her next leading role. While flattering, I know my face showed my level of alarm. There was no way that I wanted to be the poor guy in the city who got dissed for the girl who ended up realizing she belonged back in a small town with a man who wore flannel.
Rafe thought it was hilarious, though. Ever since, he has called me Hallmark Hot G on his phone, caller ID, everything. One of these days, I will snatch his cell and change it back.
I don’t really mind. Rafe and I are like brothers. In the past, I’ve always felt like the odd man out in my friend group. I couldn’t explain why. Rafe is the steady person in my life. He pushes me away from getting stuck in my holding patterns, which typically involve isolating myself. We may know how to push each other’s buttons, but I’d do anything for him, including being in a wedding with the Lily, the woman who blew up my idea of love. By now, I know he knows that, although I had once asked Sparrow out, someone else has stolen my heart.
I just wish I hadn’t lost it in the first place.
I pull myself back into the present moment. As I look between Sparrow and Rafe, I feel Lily’s heavy gaze on the side of my face. I swear she mouths, “Can’t be you. Anyone but you.”
If I look her way, she’ll pretend there is nothing between us. How she can ignore our history so well should send me reeling. We bantered while we—or I—fell in love, but this is different. It’s like she’s channeled any hint of affection for me into pure animosity, and I’m over here trying to behave like her hostility doesn’t crush my heart a little more every time.
My usually level head is spinning.
“And, Lily,” Sparrow continues, “you’ll be helping even more at the café since it’s wedding season.”
“Of course, my people,” Lily grits out.
“Okay, well, Graham, I just wanted to make sure you are okay with helping us with some of the extra details for our wedding preparations. Since Rafe has to be in Nashville soon, as you know, having you here to handle it alongside Lily will be perfect!”
Rafe grins as Sparrow’s eyes move between Lily and me. It feels like a trap. I’ve walked into the lion’s den. The sense that spring is a time of renewal just got shot to pieces. But I can’t crack. I can’t give Lily another reason to feel like she has the upper hand. From the corner of my eye, I see her tap her foot. I feel her willing me to say no to whatever we’ve been circling, but I decide to hold my ground. I raise my chin and set my jaw. The transformation from amusement to concern etched on Rafe’s face should be enough to give me pause, but it only makes me more determined to solve this problem. While I knew I’d be the best man (I may have teared up when Rafe asked me, while blaming the cold air, of course), this sounds like I’ll be filling in for Rafe’s duties occasionally while Lily fills in for Sparrow’s. This will force a new proximity with Lily that I haven’t dared to let myself comprehend. I’ve heard that the only way out is through. So, I will myself to move forward.
“Sparrow, I’m more than okay. Whatever you two need from Lily and me, you’ve got it.”
Sparrow’s smile assures me I’ve made the right decision. I ignore the look of shock on Rafe’s face and the sound of Lily’s growl.
What have I done?