At first, Paige had been crushed. She had sobbed until the moment when she had to leave the house to go get Dylan, unable to bear the thought of going out into the world to collect her son from school.

They had all met him. They’d seen what she had quite obviously just lost, and so quickly. Just the night before, they’d been singing together on stage. They’d spent the whole evening folded up together at their table and then kissed in front of the crowd. To their applause.

Maybe not every single person in the town had witnessed it, sure. But enough of them had. Their displays of affection had been public enough that it was common knowledge that she and Kehlan had been together.

And if she went out like this, she’d thought, it would be just as common knowledge that they no longer were. Eventually, people would find out. But they couldn’t find out today. She couldn’t handle it today.

How she had always sworn she would never be one of those girls who got their hearts broken by passing tourists on vacation! It was an unwritten rule of any tourist town, and Stockton was no exception. All these years with Kyle having abandoned her, she had at least been able to comfort herself with the knowledge that, though she had been left while pregnant, at least it had been by a local. At least she’d had the decency to have just chosen poorly.

But now, she didn’t even have that. No protective shield to put up between her and the world. Just her stupid, stupid mistake on display for everyone to see.

She’d meant to feign sickness with her mother on the phone as she asked her if she could pick Dylan up, but her mother was no fool—she knew what it sounded like when her daughter was in pain. She knew what it sounded like when her daughter was abandoned by a man who she believed loved her.

She’d asked her mother to take Dylan for another night, so that she could put herself back together. She’d envisioned an evening spent with a bottle of wine. Her mother had made all sorts of soft, soothing sounds that Paige assumed were words. She wasn’t really listening. She was crying again, and just trying to keep the sound of it from carrying through the phone

So, she was surprised when, about forty-five minutes later, her mother came in the door with Dylan, Paige’s father, a couple of pizzas, a few DVDs, and an obvious intent to keep Paige company while she went through the worst of it.

And Paige had been grateful. Grateful for everything she had, and guilty for having minimized it in her mind to chase after some man who was never going to stay—some man who she had known, going into it, was never going to stay.

There’s a closeness in sadness. In grief of all kinds. There’s a hushed gentleness that loved ones get when they’re helping one another get over the first sharpness of loss. Dylan didn’t really understand what was happening, and why no one would explain it to him, but he seemed to pick up on the way his grandparents were acting and did his best to emulate it.

It was little kindnesses. It was courtesies above and beyond normal expectations. It was careful attention to her moods and how they shifted. It was the way they both allowed for her to talk about it, if she wanted, but left it for her to decide when and what.

She’d wondered, in that moment, how often they’d done this. They were getting older, now. Grieving with loved ones over a loss or an abandonment was a skill. And Paige couldn’t help but feel a little sad that her parents were so well-practiced in the art.

That evening was the worst of it, and her family got her through. They couldn’t do much about how ashamed of herself she felt for falling for something that she knew was too good to be true. They couldn’t do anything about how much it hurt to lose him. But they could commiserate with her, and let her know that they were still there for her. And that, at first, was enough.

But after the first couple of days, when she had still heard nothing from him, and it became clear that he was just gone from her life without a trace or any explanation whatsoever, all that sadness and shame turned to anger.

She couldn’t bring herself to hate him. Not really. Not when she thought back to what he had been like when he was there. When she did that, it didn’t feel as though it made any sense. It felt like a critical error in her operating system, and everything just came crashing down.

So, she didn’t think about the good times she’d had with him directly. She didn’t think about how he had acted or how she had felt. She didn’t think of all the little honesties that had drawn her in and convinced her that he was worth fighting her insecurities and doubts for.

Instead, she just felt the anger build up about what he had done, in the end, and that kept her out of the pit of sadness that threatened to swallow her up whole if she’d let it.

She was angry that he had lied. That he had gone above and beyond simply messing with the heart of a small-town girl and had made the promises he’d made. Was it not enough for him to win her heart and to walk away? Why did he have to be so deceitful about it?

She thought, from time to time, about what had directly proceeded him promising to stay. She had said she wasn’t going to invite him in. Was it a calculated lie, then, just so that she would bring him to her bed? Was he that heartless and crude? The possibility stung her. It felt like the most painful explanation, and, when what had felt to be the best had turned out to be wrong, it seemed like the inverse must be true: the harshest possibility was the correct one.

In the morning, when she had been hurrying off to work, blissfully unaware that this was the last time she’d ever see him, he’d called her back to him for a kiss. The way he’d kissed her…that had to be him getting his last drop of sweetness from her. He’d known, then, in a way she hadn’t. He’d known that was the last kiss they would share.

That kiss was a lie, and he was a liar for perpetrating it.

She didn’t think of how he had been with Dylan and how it would hurt her son when she had to tell him that Kehlan would not be coming back. She was putting off the conversation, because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to get the words out without her anger and hurt shining through, and she needed to be calmer about it for Dylan’s sake. She wouldn’t let herself cross that line. She had a feeling that if she did that before she’d had time to process how Kehlan had hurt her, there’d be no getting back from the anger.

The news seeped out. She’d expected that. It was unavoidable, but at least the little delay between the event and the reporting of it throughout the town gave her a head-start to harden herself to the assumptions and sympathies. Eventually, over the next week, she became accustomed to the looks of pity on the faces of the people she passed.

He’d turned her town against her. Not in reality, but in her mind. And sure, maybe in time, she would find a way to get around that, but for now, the whole place felt hostile. All of Stockton felt like it was just reminder after reminder of how stupid and gullible she’d been.

Even Milo the cat wasn’t safe from being an unwilling instrument in her torture. It burned in his every meow that Kehlan had been the one to find him. Kehlan had been the one who had told her how to take care of him. If she hadn’t loved Dylan so much, and Dylan hadn’t loved Milo so much, she might have given him away.

The Coffee Cup was the worst. This was where she’d first met him. And this was where he’d came back. This was where she’d been when he’d slunk out of town, leaving her for good. How was it remotely fair that after nearly a decade of working at the Coffee Cup, and allowing her life to center around the establishment in so many ways, a few brief moments with a stranger had overwhelmed all those positive associations? The math didn’t feel like it should work out that way. It wasn’t right. But it was what had happened, all the same.

And it was the worst on days like today, when there were barely any customers, and little to distract her. She was reminded of that time, not so long ago, when she’d been looking for a distraction from Dylan going away on a field trip. How she wished now she’d never found one.

“Say, doll…why don’t you take that pretty face of yours and find somewhere better than this rat trap?”

Alvin’s voice pulled her from her self-flagellation.

“What?” she asked, trying to pull herself back to the present—back to the kindly father figure in front of her who she’d known her whole life, and who, like so many people in the town, was more important than some charming devil of a tourist. Who was trying to cheer her up, even knowing it was impossible.

He must have determined his character wasn’t making any difference, because he dropped it and answered her sincerely.

“Today is dead, and it’s not going to get any better. Must be the weather. Rain like this always drives people away.”

Paige searched around for the words to respond to him.

“But we never close early. Not unless there’s a problem.”

Alvin looked at her knowingly.

“And is there not a problem?”

Paige sat down, looking at the empty restaurant.

“Not one that’s going to go away in an afternoon.”

Alvin sat down, across the table from her. They had spent so much time together in this restaurant, it felt strange to be sitting here like they were customers.

“Maybe not. These things don’t heal in an afternoon. But that doesn’t mean that taking the afternoon when it’s given, and letting yourself feel it, isn’t going to help.”

A rough sob—or was it a laugh?—ripped its way out of Paige’s throat.

“You think I haven’t been feeling it?” she asked.

The tears were starting. She didn’t want them to, but she couldn’t stop them. Alvin put his wrinkled hand on hers.

“I think you’ve been fighting through it. It takes a lot to give someone up. I’m not saying it’ll fix it; I’m just saying a few hours to yourself before you have to go pick up Dylan might do you some good. Take it or leave it, but you should make up your mind quickly, before one of the two customers we’re getting today comes in.”

He was right, she knew. She thanked him. She didn’t want to wallow, but this wasn’t that, she thought. This was moving through. Moving past. Eventually. And besides, with Alvin poking around and making her cry, she wasn’t really fit for waitress duty right now, anyway.

She got in her car and rooted around in it until she found a rain jacket. She started driving on autopilot before she realized where she was going, and was almost surprised to find herself at the trailhead for the scenic overlook.

What a different day today was than the day she’d brought Kehlan here. How much darker. How much damper. How much less hope. All the same, she put on the jacket and headed up towards the summit.

As she walked, she let the familiar feelings of the last week wash over her. The despair. The sadness. The anger. The shame. It still didn’t feel real. Some part of it still felt like a mistake. An error. The kind of thing that they would laugh about one day when they were old, and still together, and looking over pictures of Dylan’s children.

Was that what Alvin had meant? Had he sensed that? That she needed to let him go if there was any chance of moving on, and that she would only be able to do that if she had time to really sit and reflect? To know that that was a coping mechanism, and a fallacy. To know that imagining them that way was a lie she was telling herself.

She sat down on the bench, not caring that it was wet. Her raincoat was long, anyway. And, even if it wasn’t, she was beyond caring about any of that, now.

No, she didn’t think Alvin had sensed that. He probably just saw that she was struggling and wanted to help her in any way that he could. That was what normal, kind people did, after all. They helped when people were struggling. They didn’t see their weakness and take advantage of it just to have an entertaining few weeks…

And she was off again, watching like an innocent bystander as her anger at Kehlan built up and bubbled over. There was nothing she could do. The vicious fire built up, and she could only go about her day when it had reduced her memories, once more, to ashes.

“Paige?”

She thought she heard him calling her name. She shook her head, and laid her head in her hands. Was this what it was coming to? First, she’d gone just about crazy the first time he’d left. Now, here she was, working herself up into a frenzy and imagining his voice.

But he’d been there, hadn’t she? She’d thought she was crazy for believing he was there, and then…

She turned, and just as she had suspected, there he actually was. Kehlan was standing where the trail emerged from the forest, out onto the overlook. He was in what looked to be an expensive suit, and he was absolutely sopping wet. Water droplets dripped from his hair onto his perfect lips. His shiny leather shoes clearly weren’t meant for the trail he’d just taken. They’d be ruined, Paige thought. And the anger she’d been trapped in since he’d left made her glad of it.

But there was something Paige didn’t expect. He didn’t have a cruel expression on his face. He wasn’t back to twist the knife, nor to grovel and apologize just so that he could find his way back in to betray her again. No. His normally calm, even face was a picture of confusion and worry.

Paige stood. She walked towards him, as though drawn in by a magnetic force, though it was more so that she could speak to him and be understood over the sound of the rain falling around them.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, the words harsh and rough, and leaving her throat feeling abused.

“I told you I’d be back.”

Lie. He was a liar. She knew this already; why did it hurt so much to see it proven?

But was he? He seemed to believe what he was saying. Paige faltered, half of her wanting to forget everything and forgive everything and jump into his arms. But the other half of her remembered the agony of the last week.

“You said no such thing. You just…you just left. You said you wouldn’t and then I came back, and you were gone. Didn’t answer your phone, and didn’t call me back. And the bed and breakfast said you’d checked out. And…”

She trailed off. For all her anger, there was one thing that could still override it.

“Kehlan, what’s wrong?”

He struggled. There was something else. Something bigger than what he had or hadn’t told her. If she’d thought about it even an hour ago, she’d say that wasn’t possible. But here, with him before her, she knew it was.

“You really didn’t get my note?” he offered, uncharacteristically weakly. He was diverting the conversation, but she didn’t push it. As angry as she’d been at him, all her anger was secondary.

“I really didn’t.”

“I put it on the picture on the fridge. The one with the elephant.”

Paige felt the bottom drop out of her anger, leaving only relief, confusion, and concern.

“It was cheap—the magnet on it is weak. Sometimes it falls off when the fridge door closes, if it’s trying to hold something up.”

The both came to the realization at the same time.

“The coffee.”

Paige looked down, shamefaced.

“I thought you were being cruel.”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise. If I had known what it would cause you to think…”

Paige shook her head, moving closer to him. He was shivering, lightly. She was close enough to tell, now.

“But you didn’t.”

She said the words more to herself than to him. She knew there were more questions. Why didn’t he answer his phone? Why didn’t he call her back? Where had he been for the last week? But the answers to those questions were all tied up in the big something that he didn’t want to tell her.

At least, not out here. Not yet.

“How do I always end up getting you soaked to the bone?” she asked, brushing some of the water out of his hair with her hands.

It was the first time she’d touched him since she’d believed she would never touch him again, and it felt electric. The rain was slowing down, and it made her voice sound louder and clearer than it had been.

“I don’t know,” he said, clearly relieved.

No witty rejoinder. No little joke. Something really was wrong.

“Let’s get you dried off,” she said.

He nodded, and they headed down the mountain together.