16. Chapter 16
Lydia
After a couple days off work, trying to get my head straight after thinking far too much about a bearded man with chocolate eyes, the best kiss of my life, and the fact he bought me a freaking coffeemaker, I’m back at work today.
I also have an appointment with the divorce attorney on Friday.
I’m ready to get the ball rolling. Ready to close that sad, depressing chapter and move on with my life.
Ideally, Simon will agree to the divorce and we wrap it up quickly.
But I know him better than that. He won’t make this easy.
Simon doesn’t like to lose, and that’s exactly how he’ll see this.
As if I summoned him just by thinking his name, my phone buzzes with an incoming text. My stomach drops.
Simon: I always knew you weren’t very bright, but I didn’t think you were this stupid, Lydia. Do you really think you’re going to be able to make it on your own? Just come home.
Simon: I know where you are, Lydia. You didn’t really think I couldn’t track you down, did you?
Could he really know where I am? My heart starts racing, and I feel myself beginning to spiral.
He can’t find me. I can’t go back there.
Back to that life. Not when I’ve seen what my life could be like.
It’s small and it’s simple, but it’s my own.
This house. My job. Hell, the fact I’m not forced to straighten my hair every day is enough of a reason to stay.
I was used to Simon making snide comments about my intelligence, but it’s still sad. No one should ever get used to being told they’re dumb, especially not by their husband.
I know I’m smart. Far smarter than I’ve ever been given credit for. Though if I’d been just a little smarter, maybe I wouldn’t have needed an exit plan in the first place.
Poor planning aside, I already feel more at home here than I ever did in Austin.
Coco has trusted me to open the bookstore this morning, and that’s not something I take lightly. It means more than I can fathom that a woman who barely knows me believes I’m capable of running her business.
I love this bookstore.
I’m the only one here this early. There are no customers yet, just the soft hum of the lights and the faint scent of the candle I lit when I arrived. I carry my tumbler of coffee through the aisles, mindlessly brushing my fingers along the spines as I pass.
I’ve always loved to read, but growing up, I knew better than to keep books at home.
Not if I could help it. My stepdad took a strange pleasure in destroying anything that mattered to me, books included.
I remember a few occasions where I would sit with tears streaming down my face while he taunted me and ripped pages out one by one.
Sometimes he threw the pages into the fire.
Other times, he left the paper remnants on the floor and told me to pick them up when he was done.
So if I found a book I liked, I left it at school and read during free periods. It was safer that way.
After Simon and I got married, things weren’t much different. He didn’t see the point in reading for fun. If he caught me with a book, he’d ask whether I had more useful things to do. One night, he caught me reading in the tub and laughed as he tossed my paperback into the water.
But now? Now I’m surrounded by them.
I’ve already picked up a few I’ve been dying to get my hands on.
Thanks to Coco’s ridiculously generous employee discount, I bought the entire Dragon’s Lair series.
After helping Nick put his mom’s gift basket together and hearing how much she loved them, my curiosity was officially reignited.
I’ve been able to read on my days off, and I’m loving them.
As I wander through the store, I make a mental list of the titles to add to my Tbr. There are so many. I pause at the contemporary romance display, straightening a few stacks and making sure everything looks just right.
The bell above the door rings.
“Good morning. I’ll be with you in just a second!” I call, turning toward the front of the store.
“It’s just me, dear,” Coco replies, walking to the counter and dropping her bag on top.
She’s small, with a rich dark complexion and long braids trailing down her back. Today she’s wearing a soft burgundy scarf that pulls her hair from her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and bright, knowing eyes. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a woman so effortlessly beautiful.
“Good morning, Miss Coco. Are you doing alright today?”
I adore this woman. Conversation with her is easy in a way it rarely is for me. Small talk has always felt stiff and exhausting, but not with Coco. With her, it feels natural. Like talking to an old friend.
“I’m great, dear, other than the fact I forgot to feed myself before leaving the house and now I am officially hangry.”
I laugh, taking her in again. The look in her eyes is genuine and kind, and she seems comfortable in who she is.
In another life, I think I could’ve been a lot like her.
She moves through the world with a quiet confidence I’ve never known. As far as I can tell, she’s built all of this on her own.
And then it hits me. Maybe I still can be more like Coco.
This is my chance to start over. To become who I’ve always imagined I might be: strong, independent, capable.
Everything my stepfather and Simon insisted I would never become.
A strange jolt of excitement runs through me, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
“How about I run across the street, grab us some breakfast and bring it back? My treat,” I offer, reaching for my bag behind the counter.
“Oh, that sounds lovely, dear. Are you sure you don’t mind? I’d eat the heck out of a breakfast burrito right now.”
I laugh out loud. Hearing that from someone so small and classy is somehow hysterical.
“I’ll be right back, Coco. Hold down the fort.” I wink and step outside.
Sunshine hits my face, warm and bright. I pause, lifting my face toward it.
“I am strong. I am capable. I can do anything I set my mind to.” I repeat it a few times before taking a deep breath and opening my eyes.
I’ve been told I’m unintelligent so many times. I’ve been told “it’s a good thing you’re pretty” so often that at some point I stopped arguing. It was easier to believe it than to fight it.
But not anymore.
I left a terrible situation. I made it to this beautiful little mountain town. I found a job. A home. I created a new beginning.
It might look small from the outside, but I am so damn proud of myself.
With the thought still buzzing in my chest, I cross the street to the diner I haven’t tried yet. The smell of bacon and coffee greets me the second I open the door, the bell above it chiming my arrival.
I slide onto a barstool at the counter as an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a fantastic mustache approaches, an order pad in one hand and a pen tucked behind his ear.
“Good morning, sweetheart. What can I get you?”
Being called that would usually put me on edge. But coming from him, it feels…harmless. Almost grandfatherly.
“I’d like two breakfast burritos to go, please. Extra hot sauce.” I smile, surprised by how easy it is to talk to him.
Men usually make me anxious, especially ones around my stepfather’s age. I’ve been that way since I was little, for good reason. But this man feels different.
“You got it, Miss Lydia. Anything else?” He scribbles the order and slides it into the pass-through window behind him.
I blink. “No, Mr…” I let the sentence trail off.
He grins. “Joe. Just Joe.”
“How do you know my name, Joe? I’ve never been in here before.”
He chuckles. “Small town, Miss Lydia. When a pretty, blue-eyed young woman moves in, I take notice.”
He winks, but it’s playful, not invasive. More proud dad vibes than anything else. He doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all. That’s new. I like him already.
Within minutes, Joe hands me a bag heavy with what I’m sure are two perfect breakfast burritos. I can’t wait to get back to the bookstore and dig in.
Since moving here, most of my meals have been eaten alone, and more often than not, it’s peanut butter and jelly or boxed mac and cheese straight out of the pan, while I stand at the stove.
And honestly, I kinda love it.
I eat what I want, when I want. No one criticizes whether it’s healthy or sophisticated enough. No one makes faces and teases me for being childish.
Simon preferred fancy restaurants. Always somewhere expensive, polished, full of people he considered worth being seen with. Restaurants in Austin that felt more like performance stages than places to enjoy food. I hated every minute of it.
I’d take eating alone in my underwear, with ‘90s one-hit wonders blasting in my cute little kitchen, over stepping foot in one of those places again.
I start across the street toward the bookstore, not bothering with the crosswalk. I don’t rely on those much anymore. It makes me feel like a real resident of this sleepy town.
Most people here cross whenever they feel like it, and traffic simply yields. No honking. No shouting. No angry gestures. I love it. It has such a Stars Hollow vibe, and little Lydia is here for it.
As I make my way back to the store, my thoughts drift to Nick, as they have a lot lately.
I haven’t seen him in a few days, and I find myself wondering how he’s doing.
Without meaning to, my mind lingers on his dark hair, the way it curls at the nape of his neck like he’s just slightly overdue for a haircut.
I imagine sliding my fingers through it again, giving it a little tug like I did when we kissed. The soft growl he made. Like he liked it. Just thinking about that one kiss gives me more butterflies than my entire marriage to stupid Simon ever did.
That realization alone is enough to make me want to gag. How pathetic is it to look back on your marriage, your freaking marriage, and instead of sweet or romantic memories, all you feel is the urge to hurl?
Gross.
As much as I enjoy my mind wandering to Nick, I hate how the thought of him drags Simon back in.
I hate thinking about Simon at all. He hasn’t texted in a couple days, thankfully.
I’m relieved, but also wary. Simon doesn’t give up, and he hates to lose.
I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Ugh. Fuck Simon.
The bruise on my face has almost faded, so at least that’s good. One less thing reminding me of him.
Once he’s in my head, my appointment with the divorce attorney follows close behind. I’m more than ready to get the ball rolling. To be done. But I’m also nervous about how Simon will react when he’s notified.
My attorney, Norah Fulsom.
Fulsom.
More than likely, she’s related to Nick. A sister or a cousin, perhaps.
Definitely not a wife. I don’t think.
He would’ve mentioned a wife. He wouldn’t have kissed me or gifted me a coffeemaker if he were married. I haven’t known Nick long, but I know him well enough to trust he’s not hiding a secret wife.
Shaking the thought away, I push open the door to the bookstore and smile when I see Coco chatting with a customer. Not wanting to interrupt, I slip past them and take our burritos to the back room.
I’m hungry enough to eat my own hand. My sandwich last night was anything but filling, and I still haven’t made it to the grocery store. It was all I had. I peel back the paper, ready to take a bite, when my phone rings. Not my old phone, the prepaid one I bought before I got to town.
Unknown number.
Whispering Hills.
It’s not Nick. I saved his number.
I answer cautiously. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Lydia? This is Marcus with Norah Fulsom’s office.”
I forgot this was the number I gave the attorney’s office. The last thing I need is for Simon to hack my records and discover I contacted a lawyer before I was ready for him to know.
“Yes, this is Lydia. How can I help you?”
“Ms. Fulsom’s had an opening in her schedule this afternoon. Would you be interested in coming in today instead of your scheduled Friday appointment?”
My heartbeat doubles like a hammer.
“Absolutely. What time?” I try to keep the excitement and nerves out of my voice.
“Perfect. Can you be here at 3 p.m.? The address is five hundred North Main,” Marcus says sweetly. I’m certain he’s blowing bubbles with his gum.
“I’ll make 3 p.m. work. Thanks so much!” I hang up, burrito all but forgotten.
I head back to the front to find Coco. I’m scheduled until four, but I’m hoping she’ll make an exception. “Hey. Your burrito’s in the back.”
“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I’m starving. Did you meet Joe?”
“I did. He seems great.”
She disappears into the back room, already tearing open the paper around her breakfast. The second the smell hits, I run to grab mine again and dive in. We both let out small, involuntary moans at the same time and immediately burst into laughter.
Okay. I am absolutely going back to that diner. If the breakfast burritos are this good, I can’t imagine what the rest of the menu tastes like.
“Hey, Coco,” I say between bites. “I have a question.”
“What’s up, buttercup?” she replies around a mouthful. For such a tiny woman, she can put food away. I respect it.
“The attorney I was supposed to meet on Friday just called. She has an opening today at three.” I swallow. “I know I’m scheduled until four, but…”
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Absolutely. It’s wonderful she can get you in sooner. I know you’re anxious to get the ball rolling on this mess.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you,” I say, meaning it.
She reaches over and pats my hand gently. I’ve told her pieces of my story, not everything, but enough. I don’t know if she’s ever been married, but she understands more than I expected. And right now, I’m so grateful I found her.
“Are you sure you don’t mind covering for me? I can call Penny and see if she can come in early if you need.”
Coco waves me off, her mouth still half-full. “Don’t you worry about a thing, sweet girl, I’ve got it covered. Go take care of what you need to. Penny can jump in if it gets hectic, but I’ll manage.”
Relief washes over me so fast it nearly makes me lightheaded.
“Thank you,” I say again, softer.