Next morning, Patty drove them to meet the mechanic in the middle of the next town. It was smaller than she’d expected, though still quaint and lively for being so early in the morning. People were out on each corner, strolling from flower shop to antique stores too many to count—and bars—she counted at least three as they drove in from the main road.

Patty dropped them off at the corner, where she kept the car running so her babies wouldn’t fret. “Tell Bob that I sent you,” she said. “He’s a good mechanic and won’t send you a on goose chase if he knows you’re with me.” She then gave them each a brief hug, and hopped back into her van without lingering. “Look me up if you ever come back this way. I’ve downright enjoyed your company.”

They both grinned, then grabbed the rest of their belongings from the back of her van before slapping it shut and sending her on her way.

The auto shop was old fashioned, with stacks of tires along the whole fence line. They entered through the back, where Tristan’s Mustang was already on lifts in the middle of the garage. A man in denim coveralls was poking around in a tool chest, and looked up when they entered the building. As he walked toward them, he wiped his hands on what used to be a red rag. “I’m guessing this beauty is yours?” he said, around a mouthful of tobacco. “Haven’t seen a ’67 since I went to a car show in two-thousand.” He reached his hand out to Tristan and gave it a firm shake. “My name’s Bob.”

“Tristan.” Tristan replied, then glanced up to his car above their heads. “I’m hoping you know what’s wrong with her?”

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “Thing is, there’s some good news and some bad news.” He looked to Samantha, nodding his head in hello. “Good news is, it’s only a bad radiator cap.” He turned back to Tristan. “Bad news is, the nearest I can get one is a two towns over.” He spread his legs wide and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his coveralls. “I’ve already sent one of my guys to get it, but I’m afraid I won’t have the car ready ’til morning.”

Tristan ran a hand through his hair and cringed. “Shit. Are you sure? We’re on our way to a wedding—”

Bob shook his head, cutting him off. “I’m afraid so. I wish there was more I could do. But truth is, y’all are lucky I found one even that close.” He then looked at Samantha. “I can see you’re disappointed ma’am, and it hurts my heart. But there’s a great bed and breakfast just across the road. People come from all over to stay there. Tell them Bob sent you, and they’ll give you a discount on your stay”

Samantha smiled, then turned to Tristan. “Well, I guess that settles it then. We’re staying the night in Colton, Iowa.” She was trying to make the best of the situation, to lower the pressure she could see stiffening Tristan’s shoulders, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He was looking at his cell phone, deep in thought, and there was an odd expression on his face.

He finally excused himself, holding up one finger before walking out of the garage.

Samantha looked down to the ground, to the oil-stained floor, as a weird uncomfortable feeling grew in her stomach. She finally looked back up, thanked Bob for his recommendation of the B&B, then walked in the opposite direction from Tristan, wanting to give him privacy. She sat on the curb in front of the shop, kicked her legs out in front of her, and dug through her purse looking for her cell.

Three notifications waited on her phone. Two of which were from Steven. She punched in her pass code, and began playing the messages.

“Hey babe, I need to talk to you. Call me as soon as you can?”

“Samantha, I really have to talk to you. Call me when you get this, okay?”

Her brows furrowed, and she frowned. What did he need to talk to her about?

The last message was from Renee.

“Hey Sam! Are you and Tris killing each other, yet? This is taking forever, and I’m not even in the car! Call me when you can. Love you! Bye!”

Samantha closed her eyes, leaning back on the pavement to let the sun warm her face. “This is almost over. You’ll see Steven in a couple of days, and everything will go back to normal.”

She sat up again, straightening her back as she dialed Steven’s number. It went straight to voice mail, and she began to leave a message.

“Hey babe,” she began. “You’re probably working, but I wanted to call while I had reception.” She blew out a breath and looked back over her shoulder to the garage. “We ran into some car trouble, unfortunately. It seems we’ll be delayed about a day.” She paused for a moment, her eyes focused on nothingness. “Call me when you can.” She hung up the phone without even saying goodbye.

When she looked up, Tristan was standing above her. His sunglasses were covering his eyes, but the tension couldn’t be hidden from his face. “I guess we should go get some rooms?”

She pushed herself from the pavement, but Tristan grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her up the rest of the way. His grip was firm and strong, yet sent goose bumps to cover the length of her body in a second. “Everything okay?” she asked, searching his face for answers.

He nodded, but immediately looked away. “Yeah. You?” he asked, meeting her eyes once again.

“Yeah,” she whispered. He still looked upset, and all she wanted to do was yank the glasses off his nose and demand that he tell her what was wrong. Why he’d suddenly changed from the easy-going Tristan she’d always known him to be, to this. But in these few short days she’d become closer to him than she was comfortable with. Closer to him than was healthy. She needed to keep her distance, to keep her walls up and not let them fall. “I guess you’re right. We should go get some rooms.”

They both stepped off the curb separately, keeping distance between them as they walked toward the bed and breakfast.

True to the mechanic’s word, the bed and breakfast was stunning. Samantha was sure it had once been an old Victorian home. Brick walls, a castle-like roofline, and shutters on every window. But there was a large pool in the center of the courtyard that was modern and sleek, and looked exhilarating. Lush foliage surrounded the property, offering privacy, yet the building sat in the center of town, not even a half block away from the public.

They followed the intricate stone path past the magnolia tree scattered with huge white blossoms, then to the gold sign that took them to the front office.

A pretty blond woman waited at the counter and looked up as soon as they entered the building. “Welcome to the Gumtree Mansion. How can I help you today?”

Tristan took his wallet from his back pocket and braced his forearm on the counter. “Two rooms please,” he said, but his voice betrayed his exhaustion.

“Oh…” The woman’s brows furrowed and she began clicking at her computer. “Let me see…” She clicked a few more times, her frown growing deeper and more intense. “That’s what I thought.” She looked up, glancing from Tristan to Samantha. “I’m afraid I only have one room for tonight.”

Tristan looked over his shoulder to Samantha, where she violently shook her head. She couldn’t stay the night with him. Not after their too close moment the night before. Not alone.

He turned back to the woman and put his wallet back in his pocket “That’s okay, we’ll go somewhere else.”

He pushed off the counter to leave, but before they could exit the building, a high-pitched squeak caused him to turn around.

“Sir!” the young woman yelped. “We’re the only hotel in town. Anything else is over a hundred miles away. ”

Tristan closed his eyes, ran his hands through his hair and dropped to a squat. Like the whole world had become too heavy for him to bear.

Samantha’s heart lurched in her throat and she stepped forward. “You know, one room will be fine.” She turned toward Tristan, nodding. “It will be fine.” She walked closer, wanting nothing more than to pull him to his feet. “I was being silly. It will be fine.”

He rose to his feet, the crease in his forehead softening a bit, but he pulled out his wallet again and placed his card on the counter. Samantha shook her head, opening her purse to pay. “I’ll get it,” she muttered. But he ignored her and shoved the card farther on the counter toward the receptionist. “It’s one room, Samantha.”

She swallowed hard, because as silly as this was, she could see he needed this. To feel like he was in control. Like he was taking care of the situation. Like he was somehow fixing things. She nodded once, then turned around and allowed him to pay. When her cell began vibrating in her pocket, she walked toward the door to the courtyard. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

She pushed through the glass doors and walked a good distance over to the magnolia tree by the pool “Hello?” she answered softly.

“Hey!” Steven said. “Finally. God, it’s been hard to get ahold of you. I got your message. Are you okay? You need anything?”

Samantha let her back rest on the smooth bark, lolling her head back and taking in the peaceful yard around her. “We’re fine. It’s only the radiator cap. Can you believe it? I had no idea such a thing was so important.”

Steven laughed in response. “Me either, honestly.”

She nodded, set her bag on the ground, and turned to face the pool. It was completely empty, so peaceful.

“Other than that, are things going okay?”

She took a step forward, a tightness in her belly growing with each second. “Yeah. How are things with you? How’s the new gig?”

There was a smile in his voice. “Busy…” He went on to tell her about his boss, about working until eight at night, and how he’d already lost five pounds. But then he cleared his throat, and she realized there was something he needed to say.

“I’ve actually been trying to get hold of you for a while now,” he said. His voice lowering before he spoke again. “They’re sending me to San Francisco this weekend. I won’t be able to make it to the wedding.”

Samantha’s knees went weak, and she grabbed hold of the bench in front of her to hold herself steady. “What do you mean? Can’t you get out of it?”

“Sam, I’m not going to tell them I can’t go. It’s a huge opportunity.”

“But the wedding has been planned for months!”

“I know, but when your boss needs you for a favor, you do it. The fact he wanted me there is a big deal.

She closed her eyes, thinking about all the times Renee had warned her about this. About him always putting work and his dreams before her. “What about me? What about what I want, what I need?”

“Samantha, don’t blow this out of proportion—”

“What? You’re acting like I’m being ridiculous, but I told you about this six months ago.”

“I know, but plans change. This is a really important step in my career, Sam. I’m sorry it means I’m going to have to let you down, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Before she could open her mouth to respond, he muffled the phone. “My boss is coming. We’ll talk when you get home.”

He was gone. Leaving her with tears rolling down her cheeks. Tears of rejection and anger. Of confusion, frustration, and embarrassment. She looked down to her phone and opened up a text:

Samantha: No need to talk. We’re over. I’m done.

She closed her eyes, her body trembling. She meant every word of it. With every fiber of her being. Every drop of blood, sweat, and tears she’d put into their relationship. She was done. She put her phone in her back pocket, then turned around to see Tristan watching. Standing in the path that led straight to her. His legs were braced apart, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans. “You okay?”

He looked concerned, beautiful, and so completely dangerous she didn’t know what to do. She let out a sob, wiping over her face with her hand. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Samantha…” He stepped closer.

But she shook her head, stopping him. “We broke up.” She cried. “He’s not coming.”

He stepped closer still, ignoring her wishes.

She heaved out a heavy breath. “Aren’t you going to say I told you so?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

His response was the opposite of what she’d expected. He said it with emotion. As though his own heart was breaking to see her in pain. As though all he wanted to do was hold her. She looked down to her feet. So many emotions rolled around her chest, she could hardly breathe. It was as though every emotion, every disappointment over the last six months had come crashing to the surface—and her whole world was falling apart for him to witness. Her career, her friendship, her relationship. All ending, and she didn’t want to hear he was sorry. She wanted to punch something. To scream, and yell, and hurt something the way she hurt inside.

“No!” She shouted, looking him in the eye. “Everything in my life is falling apart, and I don’t want to hear any bullshit responses like I’m sorry.”

He stepped toward her, holding out his arms, offering her comfort.

She stepped backward, emotion causing her own throat to choke her. “I should have never agreed to this. I should have just said no.” She was throwing his words back in his face, wanting to push him away. He was scary, and he was Renee’s brother, and she didn’t know if she could resist him when he looked at her like that. She took another step backward, just as Tristan lunged to grab her—but it was too late.

“Samantha!” he shouted.

But she’d already hit the water, and was sinking to the bottom of the pool. She let herself fall. Allowing the cool water to lift her hair and make her feel lighter than she had in months. There was a large splash above her, and soon Tristan’s arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her body, forcing her back to the surface. She didn’t want to go, she didn’t want his arms around her, she didn’t want any of it! She pushed at his arms, kicking her legs as hard as she could.

“Let me go!”

“Samantha, stop!”

“Let me go!”

But he didn’t answer. He kept swimming with her over to the side of the pool until they both reached the shallow end. He put her down, her clothes and hair plastered to her face and body.

“Why wouldn’t you let me go?” She sobbed.

“Because.”

“Why?” she demanded.

“Because you can’t swim!”

She suddenly stopped. Heaving as though all the oxygen had been expelled from her lungs. Because she could swim. She’d learned her junior year of high school. Right after the summer she’d spent with Tristan. “You remember.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. That was the only way his statement made any sense.

He was quiet a moment, but he grabbed her cheek as though trying to force her to look at him. “Samantha—”

“No!” she shouted again, pushing him away “You remember. Don’t you?”

He only nodded, but his eyes never faltered.

“Everything?” she questioned.

“Yes.”

She wiped over her face, over tears, and hurt, and anger. She brushed her hair back behind her ears and began walking toward the steps. “I’m going to our room to change. Then I’m going to get drunk. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Samantha—”

“Don’t wait up.” But before she stepped into the lobby to grab a key, she turned around and looked at him one last time. “And I know how to swim now, you asshole.”