Chapter 13
Kara pulled out her phone and typed quickly:
I’ll meet you there.
Hitting send, she felt the little surge of excitement. The thought of arriving together—or having him pick her up—would only give the town more fuel for its gossip.
Every step she took alongside him would be scrutinized, dissected, spoken about in doorways. Maybe it was safer, for her pride and for her nerves, to walk in alone. To let the town stew in its own assumptions.
The golden light from the bedside lamp gave her reflection a soft, forgiving glow. She slid into a simple red wrap dress, the one that always made her feel like she had it together even when she didn’t.
She didn’t want to look the way she really felt. She took a breath as she fastened the clasp of her necklace, getting ready for dinner like it was any other night.
By the time she slipped into her heels, the sky outside the window had darkened to a deep navy, the mountains silhouetted like jagged shadows. Lights from the town twinkled in the distance, and somewhere in the wilderness, a wolf howled.
The town felt so much softer at night, and kinder somehow. It was a short walk from the main street. It was past the quiet antique store, the darkened ice cream shop, the mural of the mountains painted on brick.
Miller’s Bistro. It stood at the edge of town like a beacon, its sleek dark wood exterior and string-lit patio almost too stylish to belong in Pine Ridge.
. Kara couldn't for the life of her remember what had been there before. A dive bar? A bait shop maybe? Whatever it was, it was long forgotten.
When she arrived, the place was already pulsing with energy. A few patrons chatted at patio tables lit by string lights. The scent of grilled meats drifted on the breeze.
As soon as she walked through the doors, Colin looked up from behind the host stand. His face broke into a slow, unreadable smile. “You made it,” he said.
Kara nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear. He motioned toward the back. “Good to see you again”.
Colin led her through a set of double doors.
She took in the scene with quiet awe. Polished concrete floors, warm amber lighting, reclaimed wood paneling, soft jazz humming in the background.
It looked like a section set apart from the other guests, more private.
It smelled like roasted garlic, seared butter, and fresh bread.
Her stomach growled despite herself.
“I got you the best seat in the house,” Colin said over his shoulder, his tone playful but proud.
She followed him to a corner booth near the window, where the sunset draped the mountains in soft gold and violet. The table was already set, candles lit, water poured. The view made her heart bloom.
“This is not what I expected,” she said, sliding into the booth.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know, neon lights and deep-fried despair?”
“Fair enough. That’s not really my thing,” he said, eyes holding hers a beat too long. “Not anymore anyway.”
He then disappeared behind another set of double doors. For a moment, the clink of silverware and low murmur of diners faded in the background. Kara looked out the window again, the last light falling over the town she ran from. Everything was changing, but somehow remained the same.
A part of her had missed it more than she was ready to admit.
A short while later, the doors flung open, and Colin appeared, flanked by a small procession of waiters, each balancing steaming plates and polished platters.
One by one, they laid out the dishes in front of her.
Rosemary lamb chops, seared scallops on creamy risotto, a colorful roasted beet salad, garlic truffle fries in a tin pail, and a cast-iron skillet of bubbling mac and cheese.
The aromas hit her all at once, buttery and rich with memory.
Kara blinked at the spread, mouth half-open, as Colin stood behind it all with that familiar grin, like he was presenting a masterpiece just for her.
“Colin,” she said, blinking. “Is this the entire menu?”
“Maybe,” he said with a wink, slipping into the seat across from her.
The final dish, a small cast-iron skillet of warm apple crisp, was placed in the center of the table like a crown jewel. The waiters gave polite nods and disappeared as quickly as they came, leaving behind the feast and the tension that suddenly buzzed in the space between them.
Kara stared at the food, momentarily overwhelmed. “Are you trying to seduce me ?”
Colin leaned back, arms stretched out across the booth, grinning. “You tell me.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up her fork. “I don’t even know where to start.”
He watched as she took her first bite of the truffle mac and cheese, a low groan slipping from her throat. It was creamy and decadent, comfort food turned sinful. “God, this is obscene.”
A satisfied look flickered across his face. “I knew it. You always had a thing for comfort food.”
She scoffed playfully, then sobered when she glanced up to find him still watching her, amusement lingering in his expression. Heat crept into her cheeks, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away right away.
Kara wasn't sure what she was feeling at that moment. She wasn’t thinking about her father, or Isaac, or everything waiting for her outside the restaurant's walls.
She was just here—eating good food, sitting across from Colin, feeling something dangerously close to happiness.
“This reminds me of back then,” he said after a moment. “When you were pulling doubles at Moonlit, you'd come in the kitchen looking like a ghost, and I’d pretend I needed to ‘test’ something just so I could get a plate for you.”
Kara stilled, the memory dropping in. Greasy aprons, burnt coffee, and the barking of orders through the kitchen window. Her aching feet and his quiet glances from behind the grill.
“I remember,” she said, softer now. “You’d pile fries under the burger so no one would notice how heavy the plate was.” Colin chuckled. “Timmy never caught on.”
“I think he did. He just didn’t care.”
There was a long pause, the kind that held more than either of them were ready to say.
“Back then,” Colin's voice was lower, “I didn’t have much. But I could make sure you ate. I could do that.”
Kara looked down at her plate, suddenly blinking against a sting behind her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that back then. How much it meant to her even now.
“Thank you,” she said. And not just for the food.
He didn’t reply. He just gave her a quiet, knowing nod, and for a while they ate together in a comfortable silence.
The past hadn’t been all bad.
“I would have followed you,” he said, almost to himself.
“Colin,” she said, shaking her head. “ Not right now.”
Kara sank back against the chair, letting her hands fall into her lap. How did it come to this?
She hated how easily her mind spiraled, how every little thing pulled her back into feelings she wasn’t ready to face. Kara often told herself that she was strong and capable, but did she really believe it?
Part of her still just always wanted to run, to escape the weight of expectations, of past mistakes, and everything that made her wobble.
“So this is why you’re not picking up my calls,” a voice cut through the cozy scene of the restaurant and bar, sharp and far too loud.
Kara paused, a fork halfway to her mouth. Colin’s eyes met hers. “It’s Sienna.”
“Really,” Kara said, her heart already pounding. “Apparently, catching a break is too much to ask.”
Sienna had once been the kind of friend Kara thought she would keep forever.
Sleepovers, secrets, late-night drives with the windows down- there had been a time when Sienna knew her better than anyone.
They were less than strangers now. Strangers could still be polite, still nod in passing.
Kara and Sienna had become something worse.
They had become enemies.
Sienna was standing at the edge of the table, arms crossed, eyes wild with accusation and barely contained rage. “Where’s your fiancé?” she sneered, loud enough that a few heads turned. “Does he know you’re out on a date with my husband?”
The word landed like venom on the tablecloth.
“Ex-husband. You need to leave,” Colin said quietly, rising to his feet.
“No! I'm not going anywhere,” she snapped, then turned towards Kara. “You leave!”
Kara stood, and Sienna tried to step in her path.
Colin moved between them, his body a calm wall of protection.
Kara blinked. Shame leaked out of her bones.
It sat on her like a second skin. Unwelcome but familiar.
Looking at Sienna, with glassy eyes, as her face twisted and fear simmered just beneath the surface—Kara saw the cost of holding onto a life that had already crumbled.
“You can have my sloppy seconds,” she snarled, her voice rising. “That’s if you actually want him this time”.
Colin flinched, his shoulders drooping. “I’m so sorry about this, Kara”.
“You will be,” Sienna hissed. “You think she’s different now? That she’s better than me? She always overlooked you.”
That’s not true! Kara wanted to scream.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said gently instead.
Sienna rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful.
“You always thought you were better. You left and that broke him. Who do you think picked up the pieces? I did!”
Sierra’s pupils were blown wide. Kara knew that Sienna was lost somewhere deep inside herself, and no part of this would end well.
As Colin gently led Kara past her, she leaned in close enough that Kara felt his breath on her ear. “He cheated on me, you know,” she said. “Bet he didn’t tell you that, huh?”
Kara stilled.
Of course he hadn’t. Beside her, she felt Colin’s body become rigid.
She picked up her pace, pushing past the onlookers crowding the space. This had turned into a disaster. He didn’t say a word as they walked out the door into the warm summer night.
“Thank you for the meal, but this was a bad idea,” she told him before turning to leave.
“Let me take you home. It’s the least I can do.”
She agreed. The walk back would feel too shameful. Especially if Sienna decided to trail her, screaming obscenities. Tonight had already been enough of a spectacle as it was.
Kara settled into his truck. The short ride was thick with silence. When the resort came into view was when he finally spoke. “She was telling the truth,” he said softly. “I cheated.”
It made her recoil. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Kara murmured, though her hands were clenched tightly in her lap.
“I want to. You deserve the truth.”
She huffed once, not looking at him.
“It was after a stint in rehab. She relapsed again. Not that any of this was her fault. We got into an argument, and she stormed out of the house. I was just so exhausted, so I gave up on finding her. I didn't care if she turned up dead in a ditch,” a pause, “Then I found someone else instead. I don’t even know her name. It was just one night.”
Colin drove to the entrance. Kara unbuckled her seatbelt in silence.
He sighed. “That was five years ago, but I regret it to this day. Because despite everything, I really did love her.”
“I’ll be seeing you, Colin,” Kara said softly. “Drive safe.”
She stepped out, eyes forward, back straight, not daring to look behind her. She wiped under her eyes, angry at the tears before they even fell.
“You deserve the truth.”
What did that even mean anymore?
She hadn’t been back in this town a full week and already her past was peeling itself open like a wound that never really healed—just scabbed over long enough to pretend.
Did Isaac know what he was signing up for? Could he ever really if she kept so much of herself hidden?
Get it together, she told herself, fighting back tears.