Jake tucked the carefully wrapped parcel under his arm as he stepped onto the slate-tiled stoop and rang the doorbell. He’d never gotten anything professionally gift-wrapped before but he figured this was the one time it would be worthwhile.

The door opened a crack, just enough to see the confused look on Kelly’s face. “Jake? What are you doing here?”

“I came by to give you this.” He held up the box.

Another figure appeared behind the door. “Everything okay?”

The last time Jake saw Gary, the man was bare-ass naked on top of his fiancée. Jake had just turned around and walked out that morning without a word, but Gary still looked like he was bracing for a blow to the face.

“Just here to talk. Nothing else.”

“It’s early,” Kelly said pointedly.

“Not planning to stay long.”

Kelly swung the door open with a frown and let him in. She might hate his guts, but she’d never been able to resist a shiny-wrapped box.

She led him to the stark white formal living room and sat down in the one of the armchairs, dismissing Gary with a look. Not a harsh one, though—more like a soft smile that let him know she was okay. There was a silent communication between the two that he’d never had with her in all the years they were together.

He sat down across from her on the edge of one of the chairs. He’d never been comfortable in this room. It was cold and harsh, and he always worried he would stain it with the residual filth of the pub that clung to his clothes.

She sliced the tape with her long, pink fingernail, not meeting his eyes. “I thought you might be here because of the wedding announcement mistake. The wedding planner released the one she’d made up for us last year instead of the right one. I hope it didn’t cause you any problems.”

“It did. But I’m not here to complain.”

The briefest flicker of emotion passed over her face—regret? Pity? It was gone before he could discern it. She dropped her gaze back to the gift, severed the last piece of tape and pulled the wrapping off the box. “Then why are you here?”

“To apologize. And see for myself that you’re happy.”

She studied him for a moment. “I am.”

“Good.”

She peeled back the wrapper and held the clear plastic box up for inspection. “Johann Drust handcrafted napkin rings? I’ve wanted these forever. They’re beautiful.”

“They’re hideous, but I should have got them for you a long time ago regardless.”

She set the box in her lap with a sad smile. “I never should have thrown a tantrum to get them in the first place when you hated them.”

He leaned forward and rubbed his palms against his jeans. “Probably not, but neither of us was ever very good at compromise.”

She shook her head, still admiring the bizarrely shaped circles of wood and beads like they were a newborn baby. “Maybe not, but there was no way for us to compromise with each other and be happy. There was never a middle ground for us. We were too different. Too toxic for each other. But I am happy now with Gary. Truly. I finally understand what it means to love and care about someone the way it’s meant to be. He treats me so well.”

“The way I never did.”

“The way you never could because we weren’t right for each other. It took me a long time to accept that. Hell, I blamed you for everything right up to the wedding. But once I was standing in front of the officiant beneath that beautiful vine arch with Gary, saying the vows I’d had picked out since I was a child, I realized that I didn’t need to be angry anymore. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s just that I spent so long thinking I was supposed to find that with you, I forgot about what really matters.” She sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is that even though I blamed you for what happened between us, it isn’t your fault. Not entirely. I’m just as responsible. But if I can forgive you, maybe you can forgive me, too?”

“Yeah, I do.” The weight Jake had been carrying for so long eased from his shoulders. “And I’m happy for you. Really.”

He stood up and escorted himself to the door.

“Jake?” She called just before he stepped outside. “I hope Clementine makes you happy, too.”

He gripped the edge of the door so hard, the pressure radiated down to his elbow. “She does, but I’m not sure it’s going to work out.”

“It has to.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I saw the way you looked at her. It’s the way I always wished you would look at me. You deserve to be happy, Jake.”

“Goodbye, Kelly.” He nodded to Gary who waited in the hall and shut the door softly. If the one woman who’d hated him more than anyone could forgive him, maybe he could figure out how to forgive himself.

A bell dinged overhead as Jake pushed open the glass door to the little shop nestled in a generic strip mall. He rarely came to this side of the town—a mish-mash of single-family homes and small businesses that had yet to be gentrified. But with the increasingly younger population in Shadow Creek, it was only a matter of time before it was overtaken by vintage record shops and cafés that served meals in mason jars alongside artisanal coffees.

At least this little printing shop was quirky enough with its bright, art-covered walls to withstand the changing demographics when that time came.

“Can I help—” The woman behind the counter’s face hardened. “Oh. You.”

“Hi, Chastity. How’s Darlene doing?”

“She’s fine. Relaxing at home with Dad. If anything, I think the time off will convince her to finally retire.”

He hadn’t been expecting that much of an answer. Heck, he hadn’t been expecting an answer at all. It was enough to give him a little hope.

Clover burst through the back room door. “Hey, sis, I’ve got that rush order of postcards ready. Can you help—” She dropped the stack of paper on the counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to place an order and to apologize.”

He slid the note pad with the vision for a new logo Julia had sketched out toward Clover. “This is just an idea. I know you can make it perfect.”

Clover’s chin jutted out. “You would think a rich, high-end art dealer wouldn’t need to rely on little ol’ me for design tips.”

“I’m not an art dealer. I co-own the Holy Grale brewpub on 12^th Avenue. But I do need some better branding and about fifty copies of the monthly specials menu for next week. And I’m sorry for lying to you and the way things ended last week.”

“We know who you are. Clem explained everything already,” Chastity said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not us you need to apologize to. We know Clem is the one who came up with her ridiculous plan, and you were just trying to help. But you need to apologize to her.”

He wasn’t arguing, but he raised his eyebrows to see where she was heading with that thought.

“For the radio silence this last week. You guys lied about a lot of things, but the only lie that really pisses me off is the one where you pretend you’re not madly in love with each other. She’s been miserable since we left Beecham Lake.”

“So have I.”

Clover made a little sniffing noise that made it clear she wasn’t too cut up about his revelation.

“Clem is the best thing that ever happened to me. I should have realized that years ago, but I can’t change the past. I can only try to make things right, and that’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

Chastity narrowed her eyes. “We’re listening.”

“It’s not enough to tell her that I want to be with her. That I adore her and respect her and want to make her happy every day for the rest of her life. Words can lie. I need to show her. I have an idea how, but I can’t do it alone. I need your help. That’s why I’m here.”

The two women turned to each other, exchanging an inscrutable look.

His heartbeat sped up waiting for their answer. Clem’s sisters protected her like a pair of self-assigned Valkyrie warriors. It wasn’t enough to try to win Clem back. He’d come to realize that as much as her family drove her up the wall, she loved them deeply. He had to win them over, too, if he was going to have any chance of making things work with her.

Clover flipped her blond curls over her shoulder and glared at him. “You’ve got one shot, Donovan. Don’t mess it up.”

He couldn’t stop his lips from twitching into a small grin. “I don’t plan on it. Not this time.”