Chapter 9 - Colin Comes to Grey HavenColin arrived on Saturday.
Of course he did.
Men like Colin had a talent for appearing precisely when a woman had begun constructing a life that no longer included them.
I was at Harper’s Boardinghouse helping Mrs. Bell prepare bread for the weekend when the bell above the front door rang.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
My hands were covered in flour.
Mrs. Bell was elbow-deep in pastry dough.
I walked into the front room.
Colin Avery stood beside the door.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
He looked exactly as I remembered.
Expensive coat.
Perfect hair.
A scarf arranged with enough precision to suggest someone else had taught him how to look casual.
But something was different.
Or perhaps I was.
“Grace.”
My body remembered him before my mind did.
My stomach tightened.
My shoulders drew inward.
I hated that.
So I straightened them.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“You succeeded.”
He glanced around.
“This is where you’re living?”
“No.”
Relief crossed his face.
I almost laughed.
“I live somewhere else.”
“With whom?”
“That is none of your business.”
His expression tightened.
“Can we talk?”
“We are.”
“Privately.”
Mrs. Bell called from the kitchen.
“Grace, if that man is selling insurance, tell him we already have too much.”
Colin looked offended.
I smiled.
“He isn’t selling insurance.”
“Then he can still leave.”
I loved her.
Colin exhaled.
“Five minutes.”
I considered refusing.
Then I realized I wanted to know why he had come.
“Outside.”
We walked toward the river.
Snow covered the edges of the street.
Colin shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
“You disappeared.”
“I left.”
“You changed your number.”
“Yes.”
“You quit your job.”
“Yes.”
“You gave up the apartment.”
“Yes.”
He stopped.
“Why?”
I stared at him.
“Are you serious?”
“I know things ended badly.”
“Badly?”
“Grace—”
“You ended our engagement six weeks before the wedding because your mother decided I would embarrass the Avery family at corporate events.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“It is exactly what happened.”
“My mother had concerns.”
“About my education.”
“Yes.”
“My family.”
He looked away.
“Yes.”
“My clothes.”
“That was never important to me.”
“You asked me to change them.”
“Because you were uncomfortable.”
“No. Because you were.”
He went silent.
Old Grace would have filled that silence.
She would have softened it.
Explained.
Reassured.
New Grace let him stand inside it.
“I made a mistake,” he said.
There it was.
The sentence I had once imagined hearing.
For weeks after he left, I had built entire fantasies around those four words.
I made a mistake.
In my imagination, they repaired everything.
Now they sounded surprisingly small.
“What mistake?”
I asked.
“Ending things.”
“Why?”
“Because I was under pressure.”
I almost smiled.
Celia’s voice returned from memory.
He’s always under pressure. Some people build houses there.
“From your mother?”
“From everyone.”
“That still doesn’t answer the question.”
“I loved you.”
“Past tense?”
His face tightened.
“I love you.”
Nothing happened.
No rush.
No relief.
No hidden part of me leaped toward him.
That was when I knew.
I had not been waiting for Colin.
I had been waiting for proof that losing him had not meant I was unlovable.
Those were different things.
“You should go home.”
“Grace.”
“I mean it.”
“I drove three hours.”
“That was your decision.”
“Who are you living with?”
I looked at him.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The question you actually came to ask.”
His jaw tightened.
“I heard you were working for Julian Ashford.”
Of course.
“How?”
“My father knows someone at Ashford Preservation.”
“That sounds appropriately vague.”
“Are you living in his house?”
“Yes.”
Colin stared at me.
“You moved into a widower’s house?”
“I moved into the home where I work.”
“He has children.”
“I’m aware.”
“Grace, do you understand what people will think?”
I laughed.
I could not help it.
“What?”
he demanded.
“You came all this way to tell me what people might think.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“No.”
The word came easily now.
“You are trying to make me afraid of becoming someone you no longer understand.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“It doesn’t need to be.”
His face hardened.
“Is there something between you and Ashford?”
My anger became very calm.
“If there were, it would still be none of your business.”
His expression told me everything.
He had expected me to deny it.
Expected reassurance.
Expected access.
“Grace.”
A car slowed beside us.
Black.
Familiar.
My heart sank.
Julian.
Of course.
The car stopped.
The driver’s door opened.
Julian stepped out.
He wore a dark coat and looked from me to Colin.
No aggression.
No dramatic posturing.
That would have been easier.
He simply observed.
Colin recognized him immediately.
“Mr. Ashford.”
“Mr. Avery.”
That surprised me.
“You know each other?”
I asked.
“Professionally,” Julian said.
Colin’s face changed.
“You didn’t tell me.”
I stared at him.
“You really need to stop believing you are entitled to information about my life.”
Julian almost smiled.
Colin noticed.
“Can I speak to Grace alone?”
he asked.
Julian looked at me.
Not Colin.
Me.
“Do you want me to leave?”
That mattered.
More than it should have.
“Yes,” I said.
Julian nodded.
“I’ll wait at Harper’s.”
No argument.
No rescue.
No claim.
He walked away.
Colin watched him.
“That’s what you want?”
“What?”
“A man like him?”
I felt something cold move through me.
“This conversation is over.”
“I’m asking because I know you.”
“No. You knew the version of me who spent half her life making sure you were comfortable.”
“That’s cruel.”
“It’s true.”
He stepped closer.
“I came here because I want another chance.”
I looked at the man I had planned to marry.
There had been good days.
That mattered.
He had made me laugh.
He had held me when I was sick.
He had once driven across Manhattan at midnight because I mentioned wanting lemon ice.
People were rarely monsters.
That was what made leaving them difficult.
Sometimes they simply loved you in a way that required you to become smaller.
“I forgive you,” I said.
Hope entered his face.
Then I continued.
“But I don’t want you back.”
His hope disappeared.
“Grace.”
“I needed you to regret losing me because I thought it would prove something.”
“What?”
“That I had been worth keeping.”
He looked stricken.
“You were.”
“I know.”
The answer came without effort.
That surprised me most.
“I know now.”
He stood very still.
Then he nodded.
Not gracefully.
Not happily.
But honestly.
“I hope he deserves you.”
I shook my head.
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“I’m not a prize someone deserves.”
I left him beside the river.
Julian was in Harper’s kitchen drinking coffee.
Mrs. Bell had apparently decided he needed feeding.
She had placed two pastries in front of him.
“You found him,” she said when I entered.
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Disappointing.”
Julian coughed into his coffee.
I stared at her.
“What?”
she said. “I’m old, not polite.”
I removed my coat.
Julian looked at me.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
“All right.”
Mrs. Bell pointed a rolling pin at him.
“That was the correct answer.”
“I suspected.”
I went back to the dough.
For ten minutes, nobody mentioned Colin.
Then Julian came beside me.
“Need help?”
“Can you shape rolls?”
“No.”
“Then absolutely.”
He washed his hands.
I showed him.
His first roll looked like a damaged potato.
“That is terrible.”
“You said you could teach.”
“I can. I didn’t say you could learn.”
He tried again.
Better.
Mrs. Bell watched from across the kitchen.
Her expression became unbearably knowing.
I ignored her.
After a while, Julian said quietly, “Avery’s company approached us last year.”
“For what?”
“Partnership on a waterfront development.”
“And?”
“I declined.”
“Why?”
“Their proposal would have demolished six historic buildings.”
I looked at him.
“You really do have a building problem.”
“I’ve been told.”
Our hands moved through the dough.
His fingers brushed mine.
This time, something happened.
Not much.
A pause.
Half a breath.
His eyes lifted.
Mine did too.
Neither of us moved.
Mrs. Bell dropped a metal tray behind us.
The crash made us jump apart.
“Oh,” she said innocently. “Butterfingers.”
I narrowed my eyes.
She smiled.
Julian returned to his terrible roll.
But something had changed.
On the drive home, snow began falling.
The children were waiting when we arrived.
Oliver ran outside without shoes.
“Grace!”
I caught him before he slipped.
“Why are you barefoot?”
“I forgot.”
“How?”
“I was excited.”
Lila appeared behind him.
“Did you see your old fiancé?”
I looked at Julian.
He raised both hands.
“Not me.”
“Miriam,” Lila explained.
Of course.
“Yes.”
“Is he handsome?”
“Lila.”
Julian sounded exhausted.
“What? Mom said handsome men are often the most educational mistakes.”
Julian closed his eyes.
I laughed so hard I had to lean against the door.
Even Gabriel smiled.
“What happened?”
Lila demanded.
“I told him goodbye.”
“Forever?”
“Probably.”
Oliver hugged my waist.
“Good.”
“Oliver.”
“What?”
“He made her sad.”
I looked down at him.
“Yes,” I said. “He did.”
“Then he shouldn’t come here.”
I touched his hair.
“It’s not your job to protect me.”
He frowned.
“Whose job is it?”
“Mine.”
Julian met my eyes.
A quiet understanding passed between us.
Later that night, after everyone had gone upstairs, I found a small plate outside my bedroom door.
One terrible, uneven roll sat on it.
Beside it was a note.
I made this without supervision.
Proceed with caution.
J.A.
I smiled.
Then I ate the entire thing.
May you like
It was awful.
I did not care.
