Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Scarlett entered the Italian restaurant with a stride that showed more confidence than she felt. Chin lifted, she surveyed the dim, cluttered interior, spotting Jackson within seconds. He’d chosen a table on the far wall, where he had a clear view of the door.
He stood when their eyes met, a hopeful smile curling his lips. “Scarlett,” he said, then moved to pull out her chair. “I’m glad you came.”
She nodded as she sat down, then waited for him to take his seat across from her. When his knee nudged hers under the white cloth-covered table, she shifted away. “Hi, Jackson. What did you want to tell me?”
A charming, affable grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Straight to business,” he said. “I like it.”
A waiter interrupted them to rattle off the lunch specials and take their drink orders. Scarlett asked for water while Jackson ordered a bottle of wine.
“I’m not drinking,” Scarlett said.
“Are you pregnant?” The question was sharp.
“What?” She frowned. “No. And even if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Now are you going to tell me why I’m here, or am I going to walk out?”
“You wound me, Scarlett.” Jackson put a hand to his chest.
She stared at him while his lips curled into the type of smile that used to make her melt, and Scarlett knew she was wasting her time. She should be at her business, with her friends and the man she truly wanted. Not here with an arrogant coward who couldn’t manage one single honest conversation.
“Okay. I’ve had enough.” She grabbed her purse from the back of the chair where she’d slung it and got up.
“Wait. Wait, Scarlett.” Jackson reached over to grab her hand. “I’m sorry. Just—give me ten minutes of your time. I want to talk to you about what happened at your shop.”
His brows lifted, and judging by the light gleaming in his eyes, Jackson knew he was dangling an irresistible lure.
Sighing, Scarlett sat. “Fine. Ten minutes, and nothing more. Now tell me what you know about Ethel.”
The waiter reappeared with the water and wine, and it took a couple of minutes to pour two glasses. Scarlett ignored hers while Jackson thanked the waiter and took a sip. His brows arched. “It’s good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I wouldn’t expect it from a place like this.”
“And what kind of place is that?”
Jackson huffed a laugh, shrugging. “You know. A little hole-in-the-wall place in a small town in New Hampshire. It’s not exactly the Michelin-starred restaurants we used to go to together.”
“No,” Scarlett said, “it’s a hell of a lot better.”
Jackson’s grin grated on her. But he threw his hands in the air and said, “Point taken. Don’t diss your new town.”
Scarlett glanced at a spot on her wrist where a watch would be. She gave Jackson a wide-eyed stare. “Tick-tock, my friend.”
“You used to be more easygoing, kitten.”
A little bit of vomit rose in Scarlett’s throat. She’d never liked that nickname. She swallowed it down. “I told you not to call me that. And I used to be a pushover. Why do you think I put up with you for so long?”
Jackson painted a contrite expression onto his face, and Scarlett realized she’d seen it before. When they’d argued during their relationship, she’d allowed him to smooth her ruffled feathers with that exact look on his face. She’d been fooled by it so many times. This time, it made her back stiffen.
“I wanted to apologize, Scarlett. I didn’t do right by you. I got overwhelmed, and I should have had the guts to end the relationship in person.”
It was difficult to know what to do with the apology. To accept it was to give him an opening, but to reject it would be lowering herself to a level she didn’t want to see in herself. So Scarlett nodded and said, “Thank you.”
“There was a lot going on at the time with my PhD and my job,” he went on. And it’s true, he’d been working hard on his dissertation while working as a teaching assistant at the college. His brows arched as he spread his hands. “And then you started talking about marriage and kids and I just… I freaked out.”
His foot nudged her briefly again, and Scarlett pulled back. She cleared her throat. “From what I remember, you were the one who brought up marriage. I was happy to wait until we were more established, until we could pay for it.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Throat tight, Scarlett watched him. Four years ago, his words would have sent her spinning. She would have felt like she wasn’t good enough. She would have twisted herself into knots wondering if she was the one in the wrong, if she should give him another chance. Try harder.
Now she looked at the man across from her, and all she felt was pity. He’d left her without a single word. He’d allowed her to drive herself mad calling hospitals and police stations wondering where and why he’d disappeared. He’d promised her a home and a family, and then ripped the rug right out from under her, because he wasn’t able to use his words and be honest with her.
And he did it because he was scared and cowardly and weak.
She looked at Jackson across the table from her, and she thought of Archer. Archer, who confronted his beloved mentor as soon as he could because he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving that stone unturned. He’d stayed with her this past week as she navigated the murder of Ethel Brown without running away to protect himself. He’d held her and cared for her and loved her.
A weight slid off her shoulders. The past sat across from her, and some old, rusty shackle fell from her ankle.
“Scarlett,” Jackson said, sliding his arm across the table to reach for her.
She watched his fingers inch closer to her own and moved her clasped hands to her lap. “What did you want to tell me about the murder?”
Jackson blinked, a hardness flashing across his eyes. “I open up to you and that’s all you have to say?”
“You asked me to have lunch with you because you had some information about Ethel’s death. I’m not here to rewrite history.”
His jaw clenched, but he pulled his hand back to pick up his wine. “You’ve always been heartless, Scarlett. I’m not sure why I’m surprised.”
A twinge of pain pierced her breastbone. She turned to grab her purse.
“I heard some old ex-con was seen on the street the night of the murder,” Jackson finally said. “Roger or Roy or something.”
Scarlett arched a brow at him. “Ralph?”
“Yeah. You heard about that? Has he been arrested?”
“No, Jackson. He didn’t do it. Is that really all you had to tell me?” She’d wasted a perfectly good lunchtime. Frustrated at herself for falling for Jackson’s crap once again, Scarlett stood. “I have to get back to the shop. I’ve got a lot of cleanup to do.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair.
“Wait—Scarlett. I heard the old woman was having an affair, and that’s why she was hanging around town.”
Scarlett slowed, frowning. She worked the buttons of her pea coat closed as she met her ex’s gaze. “An affair? With Ralph ?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. I just heard she was sleeping around.”
“Where did you hear this?”
“Just—around.”
Rolling her eyes, Scarlett slung her purse over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Jackson.”
His chair squeaked against the floor as he stood. “Scarlett. Hang on.” He took her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I came all this way… Don’t you think…”
“Don’t I think what?”
“Don’t you want to give us another chance?”
Scarlett stared at the man in front of her and saw a stranger. She pulled her hand back and met his gaze steadily. “No.”
That hardness returned to his expression. He gritted his teeth. “Why not? We were good together, kitten.”
“We were terrible together.”
“Is there someone else?”
It wasn’t any of his business, but Scarlett couldn’t help herself. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she dipped her chin. “Yes,” she told him simply. “There is.”
The waiter reappeared on the other end of the restaurant, probably to take their orders. She nodded at him, then turned her back on her ex and walked out the door.
It had taken less than ten minutes, and it felt like a rebirth.
Scarlett didn’t need Jackson’s apology; she knew it hadn’t been sincere. He’d only wanted to apologize to try to strike things back up with her, to reel her back into his mess. But his disingenuous apology had unlocked something within Scarlett. It had made her realize that despite what had happened, she was strong. She was whole. She was deserving of all the love and companionship that she’d thought was out of her reach.
Jackson had left her because of a flaw in his character, not hers. His showing up and thinking there was a hope that they’d rekindle their doomed relationship gave Scarlett a sense of clarity she thought she’d never gain: she was over Jackson. His apology wasn’t meaningful because she needed it to move on. It was meaningful because in the end, it meant so very little to her.
And it made her realize that there was another man in her life that was worth so much more than her cowardly ex-boyfriend.
A man who might be worth the risk.