Chapter 28
FISHER
After we’ve both showered and changed, we head out to walk around the town. There’s nothing on the itinerary for tonight since it’s arrival day for guests, so we’re on our own for activities.
Our arms brush as we walk, but neither of us makes any move to spread the distance. I itch to reach out and take her hand in mine, but I refrain. I’m trying to keep the ball in her court and let her come to me.
“This town is so cute,” she says softly, giving me an almost shy and hesitant smile.
“Yeah, it really is,” I agree. There’s a fairly strong breeze coming off the water and Ebba shivers. “Here, take this.” I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over her shoulders.
She looks up at me beneath dark lashes. “Don’t you need it?”
I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans. I still wear a long-sleeve shirt so it’s not too bad. “I’m good. Promise.”
“Ooh,” she says suddenly, pointing at a storefront. “I want to go in there.”
I follow her across the street and hold the door open so she can enter first.
She checks out the jewelry display, eyeing up a gold bracelet, before she moves on to checking out a shelf of glass blown animals. Me? I’m content to watch her browse.
We check out a few more stores, including a gallery, one that carries your stereotypical tourist merchandise, and a thrift store.
“I’m starving,” she says as we start our trek back to the inn. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.” I adjust the baseball cap I put on before we left, flipping it around backwards. Ebba lets out a sound I can’t decipher. “Are you okay?” I ask, worry leeching into my voice.
“I’m fine.” She scrolls on her phone, presumably looking for a place to eat. “I just … the … hat thing,” she mutters.
I stop walking and when she realizes I’ve frozen she stops too. “Hat thing?” I ask, cocking my head to the side and fuck it if I’m grinning like an idiot. “You like it when I have it backwards?”
She immediately drops her gaze from mine. “No.”
Wrapping my fingers around her elbow, I give a gentle tug. “You little liar.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she grumbles, pulling out of my hold and starting back down the street.
“Too late, wife,” I tease.
She glances back over her shoulder. “No nicknames either.”
“You didn’t feel anything when I called you wife?” I joke.
Her dark eyes narrow. “Nothing at all.”
“Hmm,” I hum. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“I’m not sure I care,” she retorts and speed walks ahead of me.
Laughter flies out of me. This woman. She’s insanely amusing.
I catch up with her easily and keep my mouth shut of all teasing. She leads me into a small café on the water side of the street. We order at the counter and the cashier hands over a number card to display on the table.
Winding through the café, I follow her outside to a table right by the bay. She settles in a chair, and I take the one across from her.
“Oh my God, look!” She points and I follow the direction of her finger to find a lone sea lion sunbathing on a patch of large rocks. “He’s so cute,” she gushes.
“You don’t see that every day.”
My phone rings and I look down to see it’s my mom.
I’ve been dodging her calls as much as possible since I had to tell her about marrying Ebba.
I was honest with my family that it was an accident, a total spur of the moment decision, but my mom is a romantic at heart—probably where I get it from—and insists this is meant to be.
As much as I want to believe it, and I’m going to try to my hardest to convince Ebba of that, there’s still a part of me that’s trying to protect my heart and brace myself for the worst at the end of all of this.
Ebba eyes my caller ID. “You better answer that.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “She’s just going to ask when I’m bringing you to visit.”
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Are you trying to hide me away from her?”
My phone stops ringing. “No, of course not. Do you want to visit my parents?”
She rests her elbow on the table and her head in her hand. “Maybe we should?”
“If I say anything about us visiting before we head to Melbourne, she’s going to expect us on Christmas.”
Ebba gives a tiny shrug. “That’s fine.”
I try to hide my surprise. “You want to spend Christmas with my family, not yours?”
She taps her nails lazily against her cheek. The sun is beginning to set, haloing her in a hue of warm oranges and deep pinks. “You’re the one who keeps calling me wife and reminding me we’re married. Married people visit their families during the holidays.”
“I feel like you’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not,” she insists. “You know I love your parents.”
“So, I should call her back and tell her we’re coming for Christmas?”
“Yep.”
I’m still not sure where this sudden interest in visiting my parents is coming from, but I’m not going to complain. It’s always nice when I can see them.
I pick up my phone, waiting for her to tell me to stop, but she never does.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when she picks up. “Sorry I missed you. Ebba and I were just grabbing a table at this café. It’s nice here. You’d like it.”
She laughs softly. “Don’t lie. You’ve been ignoring me.”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve just been busy with best man stuff.” Lies. Noah’s barely asked me to do anything.
“Mhm, sure,” she hums with amused disbelief.
“Ebba and I were just talking about visiting for a few days over Christmas before we leave for Melbourne.”
“Oh?” Excitement has her voice rising an octave.
“Would you be okay with that?”
She sputters on the other end of the line. “Would I be okay with that? Absolutely!”
Across the table Ebba smiles. Despite my phone not being on speaker, I’m sure she has no trouble hearing my mom since she’s practically squealing with excitement.
“Cool. We’ll see you soon, then.”
“I can’t wait. You two enjoy your time in California. And Fisher? Please make sure she stays my daughter-in-law.”
God, I hope Ebba didn’t hear that. “I’m trying, Mom.”
“Good. I love you and give my love to Ebba.”
“I will.”
I hang up and set my phone aside.
Ebba reaches up to smooth her hair down, the bracelets on her wrist jingling together. “Sounds like she was happy we’re coming.”
“Of course she is. She loves you.”
Ebba looks away, focusing on the view of the water. “I feel bad that I never spoke to her again.”
The sadness in her voice takes me aback. “Why? You didn’t owe her anything. She understood.”
“I know.” She frowns. “But your mom—and your dad too—are good people and I just…” She trails off with a shake of her head. “I shut down. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Especially anyone associated with you.”
I flinch. It’s an involuntary movement I can’t seem to stop and her frown deepens.
Before I can say anything, she says rapidly, “I don’t think I was ready for the changes I’d go through with my hormones on top of the grief I was feeling. It was too much for me to handle. Especially alone.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she didn’t have to do it all alone.
That I would’ve been there for her. But I don’t think it’s what she needs to hear right now.
I can’t imagine how she felt during that time.
My own thoughts and feelings were all over the place and I didn’t have to endure the same trauma she did.
“I can’t imagine how you felt.”
“I should’ve talked to you. Let you in. I realize that now and I’m sorry it took me so long to see.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she has nothing to apologize for but at that moment someone appears with our order—setting a BLT and fries down in front of each of us, as well as a piece of tiramisu I had to add on when I spotted it in the display case.
“I didn’t know you ordered that.” She points at the tiramisu.
“It used to be your favorite dessert if you couldn’t get a chocolate malt.”
“How do you remember all these things?” She sounds incredulous. Like she can’t possibly imagine a world in which I remember every detail about her, every conversation we’ve ever had, because I never stopped loving her.
I don’t say that, though. I don’t want to overwhelm her.
Instead, I just smile and say, “I have a good memory.”