Chapter Seven #3
The mayor's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, announcing final preparations for the regatta.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Lake Challenge Regatta, the crown jewel of our Summer Splash Festival!
Today is especially meaningful as it serves as the perfect prelude to my wedding with the remarkable Edna Twinkleberry.
From courtroom adversaries to life partners—proof that in Wintervale, true love can find you when you least expect it! "
I caught Wade's eye, the irony not lost on either of us. Now whatever had begun to blossom between us hung by a thread, threatened by my imminent departure.
"Wade, I—"
"Let's just focus on the race," he said, cutting me off with a gentleness that somehow hurt more than anger would have. "We can figure out the rest later."
We lined up our kayak at the starting point, surrounded by other elaborately decorated vessels.
Edna and Theodore's cat-themed kayak complete with whisker detailing and paw prints stood out among the competition.
Despite the tension between us, I couldn't help admiring how beautiful our own creation looked—Wade's careful carvings complemented by the woven wildflowers we'd gathered together.
We settled into the tandem kayak, my position in front, Wade's strong presence behind me. The physical proximity that had once sent thrills through me now felt weighted with heaviness.
The starting horn blared, and we pushed off from shore with the other competitors. For the first few minutes, we paddled in sync despite the emotional discord. But as we rounded the first marker, I could feel our rhythm faltering.
"You're rushing your strokes," Wade said from behind me, his voice tight. "Stay in coordination."
"I know how to paddle," I snapped back, instantly regretting the sharpness in my tone.
"Not saying you don't, but we need to work together or we'll—"
"I get it, Wade." My paddle sliced through the water with more force than necessary, sending a spray over the side of the kayak. "Teamwork. Communication. All the things I'm apparently terrible at."
We fell silent again, our paddling increasingly disjointed. Other kayaks pulled ahead as we struggled to maintain our course. I could feel Wade's frustration radiating from behind me, matching my own growing distress.
"Is this how it ends?" he finally asked, voice low enough that only I could hear it over the water and distant cheers. "You pull away when things get complicated?"
"That's not fair," I said, twisting to look back at him and disrupting our balance further. "You knew I was leaving eventually. That was the whole arrangement."
"The arrangement changed when you spent the night in my bed," he countered. "When you let me see parts of yourself you keep hidden from everyone else."
"I never promised to stay!" The words burst out louder than I intended, drawing glances from a nearby kayak.
"I never asked you to!" His voice matched mine now, our movements completely out of sync. "I just asked for honesty. For you to admit what's happening between us instead of running away from it!"
Our kayak veered sharply as we argued, heading off course toward the shoreline. I realized too late that we were approaching the wedding setup—the flowered arch, the rows of white chairs, the carefully arranged garden path.
"Wade, watch out!"
My warning came too late. Our kayak scraped against the shallow bottom, tilting precariously. I overcorrected with my paddle, and in an instant, we were capsizing, tumbling into the knee-deep water with an undignified splash.
The shock of cold water momentarily silenced our argument. We scrambled to right ourselves, soaked and disoriented. A collective gasp rose from the spectators, followed by muffled laughter as we emerged dripping from the lake.
But our troubles weren't over. In our ungraceful exit, we'd veered directly into the wedding area.
Our momentum had carried us straight into the flower-draped arch, sending it tilting dangerously to one side.
As we watched in horror, the carefully constructed arbor collapsed with a soft crunch of breaking wood and crushed blooms.
"Oh God," I whispered, staring at the destruction we'd caused. The meticulously arranged flowers—lilies and roses in soft whites and creams—lay scattered across the wet sand. The wooden arch that had taken someone hours to build and decorate now lay in broken pieces.
In the distance, Zoe Blake was already snapping photos, her camera clicking rapidly to capture the chaos. This wasn't the kind of publicity any of us had wanted.
Wade stood ankle-deep in water, looking from the broken decor to me with an expression I couldn't quite read—somewhere between frustration and resignation.
"I'm sorry," I said, the words entirely inadequate for the mess we'd created, both literally and figuratively.
He didn't respond immediately, just waded to shore and began gathering the fallen flowers, attempting to salvage what he could. His silence hurt more than any accusation.
Other race participants began arriving, some offering help, others simply staring at the scene of destruction.
I spotted Theodore and Edna's cat-themed kayak hastily beaching nearby, the mayor nearly tumbling out in his rush to reach the damaged wedding setup.
They'd abandoned the race entirely after seeing what had happened, their competitive spirits forgotten in the face of potential wedding disaster.
I braced myself for their anger as they hurried toward us.
But when they reached us, Edna surprised me by bursting into laughter.
"Well, this is certainly memorable!" she exclaimed, her cat-ear headband slightly askew after their rushed paddling. "I suppose it wouldn't be a proper Wintervale event without a little excitement!"
Theodore looked less amused but managed a tight smile. "We can rebuild it. There's still time before the ceremony."
Wade nodded grimly. "I'll take care of it, sir. I promise we'll have it better than new before your wedding."
"I'll help," I offered quickly, though I knew my woodworking skills were nonexistent.
"That won't be necessary," Wade said, not meeting my eyes. "You should probably get back to the inn. Pack for Chicago."
The dismissal stung like a slap. Around us, festival-goers were watching our exchange with undisguised interest, and I realized with humiliation that our real drama was now providing even better entertainment than our fake romance had.
"Wade—"
"It's fine, Lark," he said, his voice softening slightly despite his obvious frustration. "Go do what you need to do. That's how it's always been, right? Your career comes first. I get it."
But he didn't understand—not really. And I wasn't sure I did either. All I knew was that standing there in soaked clothes, watching the man I’d fallen head-over-heels for despite my own intentions gathering pieces of something once beautiful, now broken.
I turned and walked away, water squishing in my shoes with each step, feeling the weight of eyes on my back as I retreated. Behind me, I could hear Zoe's voice asking Wade questions, the mayor making an announcement about a slight delay in the wedding ceremony, the regatta continuing.
By the time I reached the path leading back to the Evergreen Inn, my clothes had begun to dry in patches, stiff with lake water.
I'd left my phone and wallet in the small waterproof pouch attached to our kayak, which meant I'd have to return eventually.
But not now. Not while the humiliation was still fresh.
Bramble met me halfway up the path, his small black form bounding toward me with obvious delight. He circled my legs, unconcerned by my damp state, offering unconditional affection when I needed it most.
"At least someone's still happy to see me," I murmured, bending to scratch behind his ears.
As we walked together up the path, I found myself wondering how I'd managed to cause so much damage in such a short time. I'd arrived in Wintervale seeking refuge from one disaster, only to create an entirely new one.
The Chicago Lark—precise, controlled, strategic—would already be packing, compartmentalizing emotions, focusing on the next professional challenge.
But I wasn't entirely that person anymore.
And as I climbed the stairs to the Larkspur Suite with Bramble at my heels, I realized I didn't want to be.