Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
SADIE
My last stop was Life’s a Stitch. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, trying to ignore the lump in my throat at the sight of the sewing machines sitting dormant on the worktables.
This could’ve been my fresh start.
But maybe that had just been a silly dream.
Nothing good could come of an arranged marriage.
I’d come to this town out of desperation; that was no way to start a new life.
I shuffled over to my own machine and started packing it up in its case.
I moved on to my sewing paraphernalia next: pins, needles, measuring tapes, shears, seam rippers, trim, extra muslin fabric, zips, fasteners, and all the other items that needed to be put away.
When I was finished, I looked at Lola’s dress hanging on the dress form. I’d have to finish it in the city and ship it over. She could find someone else to do alterations if needed.
The practical side of me knew it was the best way forward, but the thought still sent a dagger of pain stabbing through my chest. Creating Lola’s dress had reignited my love of design.
It had made me feel part of the town, the family.
It had been the first thing that had felt good, other than being in Gideon’s arms.
All that was gone now.
“Knock knock!”
I turned to see Caroline walking into the doorway carrying two mugs; one of them had a green tinge that told me she’d made me a matcha latte. She handed it over, and I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic.
“You look like you’re about to cry,” she said.
“I am.”
“Oh, God. Should I leave?”
I let out a watery laugh and shook my head. “I’ll pull myself together.”
Her gaze was incisive. “I noticed the bags in your car outside.”
Bottom lip trembling, I nodded. “I’m leaving.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not… It didn’t work out with Gideon.”
Caroline, my one good friend in the whole world, dropped her shoulders and sighed. “That sucks.”
I huffed and sipped my drink. The taste of it made me want to cry; the only reason she’d been able to make it was because Gideon had bought the supplies. “It’s okay. I got a big commission from a bride in the city. It’ll be enough to get the business going again.”
“Get it going…over there? Not here?”
I frowned. “I can’t stay here. Gideon and I broke up.”
“Last I checked, it’s a free country. You can stay here if you want to.”
“Come on.” I scoffed.
“What! The Marses might own half this town, but we’re not their loyal subjects. Make your life where you want, girl. You’ve got free will. Right?”
I stared at her. She stared right back. “That would be so awkward.”
“Never stopped me.” She dropped into one of the chairs next to the work table and it rolled back a few feet while she kicked her legs up.
“What happened between you and the Mars family, anyway?”
“No,” she said, lifting a finger. “We’re not getting distracted here.
You’re telling me why you need to run away when you’ve got a perfectly good shop right here.
And the world is online, isn’t it? So you can still sell your dresses all over the country while enjoying the affordable rent that Marswood Harbor provides. ”
“I’m not running away.”
“Girl.”
I huffed, staring at the wall. “I might be running away.”
“It’s kind of your thing.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snapped, whirling around to face her again.
Caroline arched her brows. “Oh, wow. Are we in our first fight?”
“I hate you, you know.”
“No you don’t. And yeah, you’re running away.
You ran from Manhattan thinking Gideon would save you from yourself.
But you know what they say”—she smiled sardonically and swept her hands in an arch—“‘Wherever you go, there you are.’ So you can run to the other side of the world and it won’t change a damn thing.
Why go through all the trouble? Just stay here to deal with your shit.
Save yourself the hassle of moving somewhere new.
Besides, I was just getting used to seeing a new face around town. ”
“I don’t have ‘shit’ to deal with.”
“Oh, so we’re in denial, denial.”
“Have I mentioned how much I hate you?”
Caroline gave me that witchy, evil smile of hers, and I couldn’t help the laugh that fell out of me.
She pushed herself up to her feet, set her mug down on the table, and came toward me.
Her hands were heavy when they landed on my shoulders.
“Sadie,” she said, becoming serious. “Stop running. Face the big monster right here, where you’re strongest.”
“The big monster” was my own inadequacy. It was easier to make myself smaller instead of reaching out and grabbing life with both hands, shaking it, and seeing what fell out.
What if I really wasn’t good enough? All the men in my life had been right to dump me. My mother had been right to disparage me. I was lacking in all ways—physical, mental, and emotional—and it wasn’t going to get better.
The thoughts felt like the truth.
But Caroline was staring at me with her glimmering hazel eyes, and I wondered if this particular truth was mutable. What if I was enough…for me?
I liked my body. I liked my drive and my determination. I liked that I’d been able to start over multiple times, pick myself up after breakups, job losses, and business failures. I liked that I still believed in love, even when love kicked me around and left me for dead.
“There she is,” Caroline murmured, smiling. “You don’t need a man to give you permission to step into your power.”
I straightened, then wrapped my arms around my friend. My only friend. My best friend. She squeezed me in a tight hug, then stepped back and said, “Should we go egg the Marswood Security building later? All that glass…it would be impossible to clean up.”
I laughed, and then was mortified when it turned into a sob. Caroline made a horrified noise, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of my distress or just the fact that I was crying in her vicinity.
“Sorry,” I said, wiping tears that wouldn’t stop coming. “It’s just—I want to stay, but I don’t know if I can stand seeing Gideon around.”
“You’re in love with him.”
“Unfortunately,” I blubbered.
“And, what? He’s not in love with you?”
The incredulity in her voice made me pause. I shrugged. “No? He told me to leave.”
“Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes. “He is dumb as a box of rocks.”
“Hey,” I protested weakly.
“Sorry. He’s really great except when he acts like he doesn’t have a brain.”
“If he wanted me to stay, he would’ve told me.”
Caroline clicked her tongue, grabbed me by the arms, and shook me.
“Sadie! Get it together! The man ran into a burning building to save three teenagers who thought throwing paint thinner around and then setting it on fire was a good idea! This is the level of people we’re dealing with in this town!
He wouldn’t ask you to stay if he thought you could do better by leaving. ”
I reared back. “No. No, he was very clear. He iced me out! He told me that there was no future for me here.”
Caroline gave me a flat look. “Right. Now say that again, but slower.”
There was a long pause as we stared at each other. Finally, I whispered, “Oh.”
My best friend patted me on the head and said, “At least you figured it out in the end.”
“He doesn’t hate me.”
“The man has been obsessed with you since your wedding day. Remember when he chased you into Rock Bottom and threatened to rip Cash’s arms off for touching your hair? He loves you, loves you.”
“Well, he could have told me that.”
She just laughed.
I started for the door, then stopped. Narrowed my eyes. Turned around to grab my purse, then marched to the exit.
“Where are you going?” Caroline asked. “And do you have protection?”
“Funny,” I said, ushering her out of the shop. “I’m not going to talk to Gideon. I’m going to talk to his grandmother.”
I found Etta sitting between two giant palms in a sun-drenched corner of her solarium. She greeted me with a smile, then waved at her housekeeper, who brought us coffee and cake on a silver tray.
“You’re here to discuss Life’s a Stitch,” she guessed.
“Yes,” I replied. “I’ll take the lease, but I will decline your generous business offer. Thank you, but I’ve decided to go it alone.”
“I see.” She picked up the delicate china cup and took a sip of coffee. “Have you found another investor?”
“I’m self-funding,” I told her. “I need to leave town for a while to complete a few projects for a client, and then I’ll reopen Life’s a Stitch when I return.”
Her brows jumped. “Ah. Gideon is aware of this plan, I assume.”
“He is,” I hedged. “And that brings me to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
Etta watched me with those piercing blue eyes of hers, shrewd and all-seeing. Her lips curled into a humorless smile. She was a raptor, ready to dive down for the kill. “Go on, dear,” she said in a mild voice. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
I took a deep breath—and spoke.
Determination was a strong tailwind that propelled me back into town. I made only one last stop before returning to Life’s a Stitch. It was surprisingly quick but very necessary. Gideon would just have to deal with the consequences.
Once that was done, I continued on my way.
I had sewing supplies to pack and a man to confront.
Driving down Main Street sent elation floating through me.
I loved this town. I loved the shabby vacant shops and the overgrown median.
I loved how hard the residents tried to keep things together.
I loved the terrible fair and the devil geese.
I loved the patches of fresh paint that Lola, Glenn, and Connor had started brushing over their graffiti.
And I loved Gideon. His silent brooding. His big, beating heart. His strength. His kindness.
He was the man I would spend my life with, and that was just the way things were going to be. I was done making myself smaller because I was afraid of taking up space.
Gideon had told me—and shown me—that my vaginismus wasn’t even close to a dealbreaker for him. I realized, as I loaded my machine into the back of my car, that the only person it had been a dealbreaker for was me. I’d used it as a shield to keep him at arm’s length.
Not anymore.
If I wanted Gideon to trust that I would stay here for him, with him, then I had to trust him too. Trust that he would stay with me even if my vaginismus never got better. Even if I got sick someday in a more serious way. If I decided to change careers. If I got pregnant.
The only way this relationship would work was if we each took one big step toward each other, over the swirling abyss of the unknown.
I was ready. The question was… was he?
With trembling hands, I texted Gideon to ask him where he was. I even sent the dreaded, “We need to talk,” and I didn’t even feel bad about it.
Then I slipped my phone back in my pocket and re-entered Life’s a Stitch.
The last thing I had to pack up was Lola’s dress.
I carefully folded the muslin draft and set it in a bag with the pink silk.
I pinned Lola’s measurements to the side of the fabric bag, then took one last look around the room to make sure I had everything I needed.
The door opened behind me, bringing in a gust of cold air. I straightened, heart thumping, and took a moment to prepare myself for the conversation that would change the course of my life. Gideon was here.
I turned.
Frowned.
Froze.
Because it wasn’t Gideon standing silhouetted in the doorway. It took me a few seconds to recognize him, even though my body’s primal reaction was instant. Cold fear iced my spine. The back of my neck prickled. My legs tensed, ready to run.
With a gun clutched in his right hand, wearing old jeans, a dirty hoodie, and a blue baseball cap, and his beard grown out to a scraggly, graying mess, Henry looked like a stranger.
I blinked—and looked at his hat again. I recognized that hat. I’d seen it at The Pier during my very first week in town.
Horror and fear shocked me into inaction. Henry had been here the whole time.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, giving me an awful smile. His eyes were fevered, and his hands trembled as he gestured toward me with the gun, then used it to point at the door. “It’s time for you to come home.”