Chapter One
“This isn’t working.”
Ella Romsey blinked at her boyfriend, Marcus. They sat at their favorite table at Raven’s, an upscale Boston restaurant where they’d had their first date nearly four years ago. His words hung in the air between them like a noxious gas, threatening to choke Ella.
“What?” She took a sip of her water, hoping to calm herself.
Tonight was supposed to be the perfect night.
The night Marcus asked her to marry him.
She was sure that was why he’d taken her to Raven’s.
Certainly a velvet box from a jewelry store was in Marcus’s pocket.
She was more than ready to be Mrs. Ella Stonington.
Hell, she’d been ready for the past two years.
Ready to begin the life she’d been planning for as long as she could remember.
Get married, buy a charming house in a good neighborhood, and raise a few children who would delight her with their brilliance every day.
Tonight was the start of all that. Wasn’t it?
“Us,” Marcus said as he rubbed his clean-shaven jaw.
“This relationship, Ella. It’s not working.
” His gorgeous face was super serious and not in that cute way like when he was ultra focused on something.
No. This brand of serious definitely concerned Ella.
His normally friendly blue eyes were distant, his full gaze never actually connecting with hers.
He fiddled with the dessert fork by his hand though they hadn’t ordered dessert.
And they probably never would.
“I don’t understand, Marcus. What exactly is not working?
” Ella clasped her hands in her lap, afraid that if they were above the table they might claw Marcus without her direct consent.
She’d never had thoughts of hurting him before, but the way he was acting tonight truly irritated her.
Tonight was not about things not working.
It was about how perfectly their relationship did work.
So perfectly that a happily ever after was in order.
Ella wanted that happily ever after, dammit.
She’d put in four years total with Marcus and the prospect of having to start The Great Husband Search from scratch—at age thirty-one—made her want to scream.
Sure, thirty-one wasn’t old, but Ella had a plan.
In fact, she should have been married already according to that plan.
Married with a couple of adorable children.
Twin boys, maybe. Ones that looked just like Marcus and loved to play soccer.
Marcus skated his hand along his forehead then raked his fingers through his blond hair and blew out a breath. “Don’t make this difficult, babe. I feel bad enough as it is.”
“You feel bad?” Ella was aware her voice had risen a notch in volume.
Especially when their waiter had been heading over to their table but made a sharp U-turn after hearing her.
“Imagine how I feel, Marcus. I thought this night was about something else entirely.” She clenched her hands together more tightly in her lap.
The urge to take a swipe at him grew with each second that passed.
Marcus looked at her now, a slight crease between his brows as candlelight from the table’s centerpiece flickered over his features. “What did you think tonight was about?”
“I thought... I thought you were going to propose.” Her voice wavered on that last word as she realized a proposal was not in the realm of possibility tonight. How could she have been so off the mark?
“Oh, Ella, I’m not the man for you.” His expression took on a note of pity that made Ella grind her teeth. He thought she was foolish. Poor little Ella had read all the signals wrong. How na?ve.
“For the past four years you’ve been the man for me, so what’s changed?
” Because she could have sworn they had been headed down the I-now-pronounce-you-husband-and-wife path.
She hadn’t been imagining things. Hell, they’d had conversations about what kind of house they’d want to live in and whether or not they wanted to stay in Boston.
And about those twin boys. Why would Marcus have those discussions with her if he wasn’t the man for her?
“Nothing’s changed,” Marcus said. “And that’s the problem, I think. We’ve fallen into this predictable routine and I’m... I’m...”
“You’re what, Marcus? What are you?” Besides a jerk apparently.
“Bored. I’m bored.” He flattened his hands on the table and met her gaze. “I’m bored with our relationship.” His words came out as if he were at a support group. Hi, I’m Marcus and I’m bored with my relationship.
Ella took another sip of her water, but at this point she was going to need something stronger than water. Where had that waiter scurried off to?
“Couples fall into a comfortable schedule,” she said.
“Especially couples that have been together as long as we have.” She could fix this.
She could make him see he was being ridiculous.
Life wasn’t all surprises and excitement.
It was patterns and regularity and cohabitating with someone who fit into those patterns and regularity.
As far as she’d seen over the time she and Marcus had been together, they’d complemented each other well.
They rarely fought. They liked many of the same things because Marcus was a veterinary technician and Ella owned a mobile dog grooming business called Peticulars.
They knew many of the same pets in the area and their owners.
They traveled in the same circles. They were a good match.
Aren’t we?
“Is that what you want for your life, Ella?” Marcus asked. “To be comfortable?”
“What’s wrong with comfortable?” Because the way he’d said the word definitely insinuated it wasn’t a good thing.
Marcus blew out another breath. Not good.
This entire night fell into the not good category and Ella wasn’t sure how it had happened.
One minute they’d been enjoying a nice meal.
She’d ordered the baked stuffed shrimp as always, and he’d gotten the prime rib...
not as always. Hmm. Why hadn’t Marcus ordered his usual chicken marsala?
Whatever. The next minute their relationship hung in the balance. Ella could hardly keep up.
“Nothing is wrong with comfortable if that’s what you want out of life.” Marcus drummed his index finger on the edge of the table for a few seconds as if he were losing his patience trying to make her understand. “I don’t happen to want that.”
“What do you want then?”
“I want something edgier, something more impulsive and exciting.”
“Something or...” Ella could hardly bring herself to say it. “Or someone?”
Marcus stared past her for a moment then his blue gaze landed solidly on her face. “I’m sorry, Ella...”
The corners of her eyes stung as tears threatened. Ella couldn’t decide if they were sad or angry tears yet. Most likely a little bit of both. “Who is she?”
He waved a hand. “We don’t need to get into the specifics.”
“Yes, we do, Marcus. If you’re going to dump me tonight, I deserve the details.
All of them. So spill. Now.” Ella impressed herself with her ability to maintain her composure because all she wanted to do was run from the table, locate the desserts in the restaurant’s kitchen, and dive into the nearest Raven’s Midnight Chocolate Cake to distract her from her sorrows.
Four years with Marcus! Four, long years, and for what?
“Two weeks ago, a woman brought a Doberman puppy into the vet’s office to have its first exam,” Marcus said. “I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind.”
A sharp pain sliced through her. Maybe Marcus was right. Maybe she didn’t need the specifics. Her stomach did a sick roll as she prepared to hear about how her long-term boyfriend—her husband-in-training—had met another woman. A woman he’d rather be with instead of her.
“Her puppy was a little difficult so we had to work together to wrangle the beastie. After the exam, we got to chatting and... I don’t know...
we hit it off. We haven’t actually gone on a date or anything yet.
I wanted to do the right thing with you first, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Ella. I have to explore my feelings for her.”
Ouch. Ella reminded herself to breathe because her body had chosen this moment to forget all its involuntary functions. “So this is it then? We’re over?”
Marcus had the decency to look troubled. Good. He should feel at least a little guilty about how this whole thing was playing out.
On the other hand, he was being honest with her. Shouldn’t that count for something?
No, her inner pissed off female growled, but she could admit that listening to that part of her wouldn’t get her anywhere.
“Okay, so you’re on to someone edgier than me.
” Ella scanned the restaurant, taking in her fellow diners who had no idea four years of relationship just got flushed down the toilet.
They ate their food. They laughed with their tablemates. They looked happy.
At least some people are having a nice night. Ella wondered if she’d ever have a nice night again.
And now she could never go to Raven’s again. Bummer.
She got to her feet, nearly knocking over her water glass. Righting it at the last moment, she wrestled her purse handles to her shoulder and stuck her hand out to Marcus.
“All right then. Good luck to you.” She stared at her hand, wanting desperately to retract it because shaking the hand of the man who had dumped you was absurd. Alas, her hand was out there and Marcus was reaching out to shake it.
“You’re being great about this, Ella.” His strong hand was warm in her grip, his fingers wrapping securely around her knuckles.
For the last time. She had to get out of there.
“Did you expect me to pitch a fit?” She squared her shoulders. “I guess you don’t know me at all, Marcus.” Giving his hand a rigid shake, she released her hold, her fingers gliding along his as she took a step away from the table.
Away from the man she’d chosen to be her husband.
Away from the life she’d mapped out.
Away from the chance at Raven’s Midnight Chocolate Cake.
She abruptly turned around, prepared to make a mature, graceful exit...
until she slammed into a busboy carrying a full tray of wine glasses.
Well, he was carrying a full tray of wine glasses, but then he was dropping a full tray of wine glasses.
Glass shattered and skittered all over the hardwood floor of the restaurant.
The metal tray clattered like a cymbal, resonating throughout the dining room.
The busboy, in his attempt to save something from the cruel grip of gravity, lost his footing and slipped.
He crashed to the floor with the glasses and the tray, his limbs flailing about as he tried to avoid falling atop the broken glass.
Several diners jumped to their feet to see if the busboy was okay as Ella stood in the center of it all.
She should say sorry. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she understood that was the proper protocol, but that would involve her sticking around longer.
Sticking around longer wasn’t something she could do because amidst the chaos she’d created, Marcus’s chair scraped along the floor as he got up from their table.
No. Not their table. Just a table where they’d broken up.
If he came over to her, she knew she’d throw herself at him and beg for them to not be over.
That couldn’t happen. She couldn’t create the ruckus she’d created in that restaurant and then be seen pleading with a man who no longer wanted her.
She did have a limit to how much humiliation she could endure in a single night.
So, instead of apologizing for bumping into the busboy, she simply stepped over the mess of glass, her boots crunching over the shards, and walked to the door of the restaurant.
Possibly Marcus called her name, but that didn’t stop her.
She exited, inhaled a lungful of springtime Boston air, and wondered how she was getting home because Marcus had driven them to Raven’s.
She wandered down the sidewalk away from the restaurant and the giant serving of disappointment she’d just received.
After digging in her purse, Ella pulled out her phone and called her roommate, Amanda Crawford.
As the phone rang, she pointed herself in the direction of home, glad she and Marcus hadn’t ever moved in together.
That would have brought another set of woes this evening.
And she’d had enough woe for one night.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Stonington!” Amanda yelled. “Text me a picture of the ring this instant.”
Ella stumbled to a stop and burst into tears.
“Oh my God,” Amanda said. “How did that jerk mess this up?”
A stream of words came out of Ella’s mouth, but even she didn’t understand what she’d said.
“Hold on, hold on,” Amanda said. “Nice and slow, El. What happened?”
Ella gulped down a few breaths, deciding she didn’t have the energy to walk all the way home. “Can you pick me up at Raven’s? I’ll explain when we get home.”
“Sure. Be right there.”
Ella hung up and dropped her phone back into her purse. Thank God for best friends. Especially ones who didn’t question things.
Fortunately, the night was gorgeous. May was one of Ella’s favorite months in Boston.
Buds were on all the trees lining the street, full of possibility and beginnings.
The trees were no less beautiful in the dim glow of the streetlights.
A crisp sea breeze coming off Boston Harbor made the branches sway as if they were waving good night to her.
Only it hadn’t been a good night. Not at all.
Ella roamed down the sidewalk a little farther. A few people were out, but not many. She looked back toward Raven’s, half-hoping Marcus would run out to her and declare he’d been wrong. She couldn’t take him back though. Not after knowing he didn’t find her edgy enough.
What was the big deal about being edgy anyway? She could be edgy if she wanted to be. She could be something more than comfortable and predictable. She could be more exciting than some chick with a Doberman puppy. Her all-white German Shepherd, Kasey, would completely agree.
Wouldn’t he?
Perhaps he wouldn’t. Even her interactions with her pet followed a schedule. Food promptly at 7:00 a.m. and 6:30 p.m. every day. Walks prior to feedings every day. Cuddle time on the couch each evening. Baths on the third Saturday of every month.
Holy cow. Ella stumbled to a stop. She was boring.
And now someone else would get to be Mrs. Stonington.