Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A low, steady hum of the refrigerators and the occasional drip from the sink faucet were the only noises that could be heard throughout the bakery. She kept meaning to fix that faucet but could never seem to remember to call when a plumber might actually have been opened during the day.
Poppy had opened the store that morning, so Junie hadn’t had to rush in early. But her friend started feeling bad mid-morning, probably from lack of sleep. Since she wasn’t feeling well and the day had been slow, Junie sent her home to rest.
Now it was just after lunch, and the bakery was still quiet.
That strange, heavy feeling that had been weighing her down since she woke that morning hadn’t gotten any better.
Everything felt oppressive and too big, like the walls were slowly closing in.
Having most of the lights turned down low probably didn’t help, but she wanted to be ready the second Tanner arrived.
She sat at one of the small tables by the window, her purse and Nibbles beside her, watching the street and trying to make sense of the sadness weighing on her chest. Last night had been the best night of her life, beautiful and intense and full of love.
She should be floating on air. So why did she feel so empty and fragile, like she might cry at any moment for no reason at all?
She left the blinds open to let more light in so it wouldn’t be so gloomy. Tanner would be there soon. He’d already texted twice, asking if she was okay. Sweet, concerned messages that made her heart squeeze painfully in her chest.
She’d sent back short, breezy replies—I’m fine and Just finishing up—even though her thumbs had hovered over the screen for a long time before she hit send. She didn’t want him to worry. She didn’t want him to drop everything and come rushing over just because she was having a rough time.
Yesterday and last night had been so wonderful, like something out of a dream.
What would he think if he came in and saw her like this, tired, teary, and barely holding it together?
She didn’t want him to know how close she was to cracking wide open, how badly she wanted to crawl into his lap, bury her face in his neck, and let him fix everything that felt broken inside her.
He already has so much on his plate, she thought, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. I can’t keep being the needy one. I can’t keep being too much trouble.
Her fingers tapped on the table. An ache in her chest swelled again, bigger and sharper than before, pressing against her ribs until it hurt to breathe.
She blinked quickly, trying to push the tears back down where they belonged, but they refused to stay buried tonight.
Several were trailing hot down her cheek; she didn’t even bother to wipe them away.
She let out a shaky breath and whispered to the empty bakery, voice small and cracking in the quiet.
“Why am I doing this to myself?”
She startled when a soft laugh floated through the front window, light and carefree.
A young girl skipped down the sidewalk past her window, her tiny hand wrapped trustingly in her mother’s.
It was difficult to hear everything they were saying, but it was clear they were sharing a joke between themselves.
They were both bundled up against the cool evening air, the girl’s bright scarf trailing behind her like a happy banner. The mother leaned down with that easy, natural affection and pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head.
The tender sight hit Junie hard. Her mother had never treated her that way, with care and tenderness.
Watching the easy love between them should have made her happy.
Instead, it created a sense of loss. Why did everyone else in the world get to enjoy that trust, that connection, that love except her?
The memories flickered through her, unbidden. Her mother’s sharp voice cutting through the kitchen years ago, “You’re too much, Junie. Always crying, always needing something. I can’t do this anymore.” The slam of the front door. The empty silence that followed for weeks, then months, then years.
Even though she had only been five when her mother left for good, those words had carved themselves deep, leaving scars that still ached on days like this. Junie blinked hard, trying to push the ghosts away, but the hollow ache in her chest only grew heavier.
Normally, she was stronger than this. She’d learned a long time ago to keep a tight hold on her feelings. But for some reason, when she searched for that control today, it was gone.
She slid off the seat and onto the floor. The lump in her throat refused to go down, no matter how hard she swallowed. The ache only grew, pressing heavier against her ribs until it hurt to breathe.
Tanner knew. He had to know that she was holding back. Would it sink their relationship, or was she a fool to think a relationship with him would last?
She pressed her back against the side of the bench seat, knees drawn tight to her chest. Beating her hands against the floor, she cursed herself for being such a useless bundle of fear and emotion.
Reaching up on the seat, she fumbled blindly until fingers closed around Nibbles’ soft, fuzzy leg.
She pulled the worn honey badger into her lap and hugged him fiercely to her chest, burying her face in his familiar, slightly lopsided softness, and cried into the furry little friend.
Tanner was going to leave her, and he wouldn’t be the first.
The memories overwhelmed her again, sweeping her up in the past whether she wanted them to or not.
She was seven again, standing beside her father’s hospital bed. The sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic burned her nose. His hand felt so cold and fragile in hers, like it was slowly turning to ice. The nurse had said she needed to see him just in case.
She squeezed tighter, desperate for any response.
What if he didn’t wake up? What if he left her as Mommy had done?
She would be all alone. The world had gone terrifyingly quiet, like someone had turned the volume down on her entire life.
A steady beep of machines and the ragged sound of his breathing only added to her terror.
Please don’t go. Please! I’ll be good. Please don’t go.
The words looped endlessly in her head. She begged and begged, but he hadn’t listened. The next thing she knew, he’d joined Mommy in leaving her. Now she was alone.
Forever.
She pressed her face deeper into Nibbles’ worn fur, feeling the familiar worn patch on his belly against her cheek, and let out a shaky breath as the present slowly settled around her again.
Everyone leaves, the voice in her head whispered. Even Tanner.
It was a selfish, unfair thought, but he’d left once already. He’d ridden away when she was thirteen, leaving her in the chokecherry thicket to be in the rodeo. And even when he’d come back seven years ago, he hadn’t been hers. He hadn’t reached out to her, not really. Not for seven years.
Okay, he had been recovering from a serious accident.
It was true she’d done everything she could to avoid him during that time.
When she visited the ranch, she’d spent most of her time with Kenzie, going so far as to ignore him many times when he tried to strike up a conversation.
Trying to get the bakery off the ground had kept her extremely busy most of the time. But still. She’d needed him.
Kenzie had been amazing, the best friend ever. And Nanabelle had stepped in and shown her what real love meant when she’d moved to Junie’s home to live with her.
But Tanner… he’d been her touchstone. He’d saved her from her father when she was six. He’d laughed and joked with her. She’d always been able to talk to him. She could be herself with him.
And then he was gone. Off to live his dream. But it still hurt. And not for a few days. She’d ached for years. She could look back now and see that, at thirteen, it had been a childish infatuation. If she’d really cared about him, she should have been happy for him to follow his dream.
And she’d tried. The crazy part was that, as a mature woman, her brain understood all that had happened and why. It didn’t make any sense that after all this time she was still so afraid he would leave her now.
A raw sob tore free from her chest. She hugged Nibbles tighter, rocking herself slowly on the hard wooden floor, pressing her face into his worn, familiar fur. Letting him catch her hot tears as they rained down on him.
“I can’t take being the one left behind again.” Her voice broke as she spoke.
The tears came harder then, the kind that made her whole body shake. She cried for the little girl who had waited by the window for a mother who never returned. She cried for the seven-year-old who had stood at her father’s graveside, wondering what she’d done wrong.
And she cried because she was so scared, so terrifyingly scared, that the same thing would happen with Tanner. That one day, he would look at her and decide she was too much and too broken.
Heavy footsteps approached and stopped right beside her before she even registered them.
“Junie?” Tanner’s low, gentle voice still made her flinch.
How had he gotten back in through a locked door? Oh yeah, she’d told him to keep the key while he ran his errands in case she was in the kitchen with the mixer going when he got back.
He crouched in front of her. His gentle finger slipped under her chin and tilted her face upward until she had no choice but to meet his eyes.
Deep concern was etched across his face.
She could just imagine what he saw. Her red, swollen eyes and nose.
Here she was, a grown woman, huddling on the floor beneath the window, clutching a stuffed honey badger to her chest. And all that after the best night of her life.
See? Extra. Broken.
Why, then, had his expression softened even more?
“Oh, baby,” he murmured. “Come here, Cupcake.”