Guilt pinched her chest. “I know. And I’m so sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to break your trust, but I see now that I have.”

  He paced away from her, palming his neck in that familiar way while Sadie searched for something to say. Something that would fix this. Something that would ease the pain she’d caused.

  He stopped by the sofa and turned. Hurt flickered through the No Vacancy sign shuttering his eyes. “I don’t think this is going to work for me, Sadie. Maybe if I wasn’t coming off a previous betrayal . . . but I am. And I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

  Ouch. She absorbed his words. Pushed past the pain. Maybe he just needed a little time. Maybe a little distance would help him believe she had real feelings for him. She’d just made a stupid, selfish decision.

  But the pain in his eyes was etched on her heart, and she had a feeling she’d never be able to eradicate it. She blinked back tears. “I’m sorry, Sam. I never meant to hurt you.”

  Thirty-Six

  Fiction should be a visceral experience. Whatever your protagonist is feeling, your reader should be feeling it too.

  —Romance Writing 101

  The last time Sam had felt this way he’d been sick with the flu. Then in one terrible, enlightening moment, he’d been sick at heart. The image of his cousin and Amanda on that couch was permanently burned onto his brain. That and the feeling it had evoked—that horrible exposed, sucker-punched feeling. The gaping hole inside that ached somehow, despite its emptiness.

  He rode the mower across one of his larger properties, wishing the task didn’t offer so much thinking time. The late-afternoon sun beat down relentlessly on his skin. He shoved his sunglasses into place, trying to shake from his mind that stunned look on Sadie’s face last night.

  After he’d broken up with her, she’d slipped quietly from his apartment. For someone so adept with words, he would’ve expected her to make a lengthy case for herself. He was relieved she didn’t, as he wasn’t in a headspace to hear it.

  This morning he wondered why she hadn’t fought harder. It wouldn’t have made a difference, except maybe to assure him that her affection had been genuine. As it was, he wasn’t so sure.

  He only knew that his feelings for her were very real—confirmed by the misery he now experienced. He was so stupid. She had kept her story a secret and he was oblivious. Amanda and Tag had been falling in love right under his nose and he had no idea. Was he that clueless? Was he missing some observant gene? He should probably stay far away from women. Not only could he not trust them—he couldn’t even trust himself right now.

  After Amanda’s betrayal, that awful feeling had hung around for months, hurting him, haunting him, and he didn’t welcome it back now. He wanted to eradicate it. He wanted to uproot Sadie from his heart, his life, so he could feel normal again.

  But in an hour or so he’d go home, and she’d be out on the deck working or getting ready to fix supper. He certainly couldn’t live next door to her, share a deck with her, for six more weeks.

  And there was no reason he had to.

  He would call Mrs. Miller on the way home and try to bow out of his rental agreement. Even if he couldn’t do so, he would still return to his apartment. Whatever it might cost was worth it for his mental health’s sake.

  His chest tightened at the thought of saying goodbye to Sadie. He’d come to anticipate being with her at the end of each day. To anticipate seeing her sparkling brown eyes, hearing her bright chatter, receiving her passionate kisses.

  He shook the thoughts away. That was over. Seeing Sadie now would only torture him. And all his original reasons for moving to the island had evaporated. He’d run away from his pain only to find it again, thanks to someone else. His plan to escape had blown up in his face. And somehow the loss felt even worse this time around.

  * * *

  Sadie didn’t like her story anymore. She flipped over the last page and weighted the stack with a conch shell. It probably wasn’t the story itself, only the feeling of loss it now dredged up. But it was impossible to separate the two.

  If it was bad, Erin would let her know. Right now Sadie didn’t even care. She couldn’t think past the ache in her chest.

  The afternoon was waning and she had to get her pages turned in by end of day. She forced herself to key in the edits she’d made on the printed copy. This was much less heinous than reading the story had been, as the scenes came alive in the form of memories, taunting her. She had a king-size box of Kleenex sitting on the table for that very reason.

  The edits took the better part of an hour, and she was relieved when the sun sank behind the house. The heat and humidity were intolerable today. She should’ve worked inside, but she’d thought the sunshine and sea breeze might cheer her. And she was in desperate need of cheer.

  All day she’d prayed Sam would have a change of mind. Maybe if she found the right words, she could convince him her feelings were real. But perhaps that wasn’t even the issue. It seemed his concern had been her secrecy. But surely he could see she’d just made a mistake. People were wont to do that on occasion. She wasn’t perfect. Did that mean he couldn’t trust her?

  The thought had been like a pesky mosquito buzzing in her ears all day long.

  Several people had stopped by her Little Library, and she chatted with each of them. Recommended a couple of books. Keisha called to see if she had time for coffee, and Sadie would’ve loved the chance to escape this stupid story. Would’ve loved to soak up some baby snuggles (and fresh oxytocin). Heaven knew the endorphins from her morning jog hadn’t done the trick. But she hadn’t had time for a coffee chat today.

  It was nearing five when she finished keying in the final changes. She wrote a brief letter to Erin and attached the file, and with a tap on the touchpad it whooshed into cyberspace.

  “There,” she said quietly. “All done.” Somehow the triumphant moment didn’t feel so triumphant. She glanced at Rio, lying in the shade of a palm tree. “Want to go get some water?”

  Go was all Rio needed to hear. Sadie gathered her things and Rio followed her into the apartment. After setting out a fresh bowl of water, Sadie contemplated dinner. Her appetite had been off today so she hadn’t made much of an effort for breakfast and lunch. Okay, so she’d snacked on cookies all day. Who could blame her?

  She could scrape together the ingredients for an omelet with the meager supplies in her refrigerator. But maybe Sam would come over to talk. Maybe he’d suggest they eat together. She would hold off awhile just in case. She needed a shower anyway since she’d been stewing in the heat all day. Also, it would prevent her from listening for Sam’s truck in the drive.

  She took a long shower, then changed into leggings and a T-shirt. And since she was right next to the front window she peeked out. Sam’s truck and trailer sat in the drive.

  Her heart gave a hard squeeze. Would he come over to see her? Should she go over there? Maybe he needed space to figure things out. Just because her day had lasted eight decades didn’t mean his had too.

  She touched up her minimal makeup and blow-dried her hair while Rio napped on her bed. She ran a styling product through her hair and was ready to give up and make dinner when the doorbell rang.

  Sam.

  Of course he usually came to the back door, but maybe he’d knocked when she was drying her hair. She took the stairs quickly, Rio on her heels. Her thumping heart and trembling legs had little to do with the sudden activity.

  In the foyer she picked up the dog and opened the door. The sight of him made her world tilt upright again. “Sam.” Even she could hear the note of hope in her voice.

  Rio stretched toward Sam, whining and squirming in her arms.

  He reached for the dog and Sadie handed her over, taking in the way his eyes tilted down at the corners. There was no smile, no dimple. Sadie braced herself.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  “How did your work go today? Get your pages turned in?”

  “Yes, just a little bit ago.” An awkward pause had her shifting in the doorway. “You, uh, want to come in? I don’t have much in the way of food, but I could whip up a couple—”

  “That’s okay. I just wanted to let you know that I, ah, decided to move back to my apartment in Bluffton. Bills are piling up, you know, and at this point there’s no reason for me to stay here.”

  Pain unfurled in her chest. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, but she didn’t want to fight or take flight. She wanted to fling herself into his arms. But he didn’t want her there. “I’m really sorry about what I did, Sam. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.”

  He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips lifting in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I know that.”

  She wanted to beg him to stay, but that was stupid. What else was there to say? This had always been a short-term relationship at best, despite the love she’d come to feel for him. She’d always known it would come to an end. She just hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

  Or for it to feel so awful.

  “Maybe this is for the best anyway. I know how much you love the city, and my life is here.”

  He’d only echoed her own thoughts. But if it was really for the best, why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel as if he were ripping her heart from her chest?

  “Anyway . . . I’m going to load up my stuff and then I’ll be going. I just wanted to come by and”—he scratched his neck—“tell you I was leaving, I guess.”

  He was leaving now? Her thoughts scrambled for purchase. Don’t leave. Not yet. “I—I appreciate that.”

  He kissed Rio on the head and handed her back. “Good luck on your book, Sadie. I hope your publisher loves it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He gave her a wan smile and then he was gone, taking the steps, returning to the apartment that, in a matter of minutes, wouldn’t be his anymore.

  With nothing else left to do, she took Rio inside and closed the door, her legs wobbling like stilts. “Well . . . I guess he’s made up his mind.”

  Not only was he finished with her, but just to make sure their relationship was good and over, he was leaving. She blinked against the sting in her eyes. A lump the size of Texas formed in her throat.

  “No. No, we’re not going to do that. We’re going to pull up our big-girl pants and . . . and make dinner.” Never mind that the thought of food made her stomach roil. “Or go for a walk on the beach.” The thought of being around other people was repelling.

  But after hearing her favorite word, Rio squirmed to get down.

  “Fine, we’ll go for a walk.”

  That would occupy her mind at least. Keep her from staring out the window like a stalker while Sam loaded up his truck. She leashed the dog and headed out back. The temperature had cooled considerably as the sun sank low in the sky. They headed down to the shoreline and turned south. But all the things that usually cheered her—the scampering sandpipers, the ripple of the waves, and the friendly passersby—did nothing for her gloomy mood.

  Sam was leaving and she’d never see him again. Sadie rejected the thought. It was silly, since she’d known it would end when she returned to New York. She just hadn’t expected to get so attached to Sam so quickly.

  Five minutes later her thoughts were so maudlin she cut the walk short and headed back to the house. Once inside she couldn’t resist a peek out the sidelight. He was still here, and she couldn’t just sit around waiting for the sound of his engine.

  Needing to talk to someone, she dialed Caroline’s number. She hadn’t exactly confided in her bestie about her relationship with Sam since it had only been temporary at best. But the phone rang until it kicked over to voice mail. Sadie hung up as tears threatened again.

  “Nope. We’re not feeling sorry for ourselves.”

  Rio didn’t even look up from where she lay chewing on Mr. Mouse.

  Sadie’s stomach released a deep rumble. As much as she didn’t feel like eating, she needed some real food in her stomach. Plus cooking would keep her away from the sidelight. She chopped an onion (legitimizing her tears), sautéed it, then whisked two eggs with a dash of milk. After adding the eggs to the onions, the mixture bubbled around the edges. The smells emanating from the skillet did nothing to stir her appetite.

  Rio joined her in the kitchen, staring up from the floor with eyes that seemed sad. Her ears hung low and her tail sagged.

  “I know, girl. I’m sad too. You know what we need? We need some happy music.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and started her playlist. A second later the upbeat tune “Uptown Funk” began. The pulsing beat usually made her want to dance, but the rhythm seemed to have drained right out of her.

  Rio whined and plopped in the middle of the kitchen floor, laying her head on Mr. Mouse.

  “We’re going to be okay. We have a lot of work to do over the next several weeks, and then we’ll be back in New York and you can see your friends again. I’ll bet Lulu misses you.” Caroline regularly brought her rescue dog over for a visit. “Do you miss Lulu?”

  Rio gave a deep sigh and looked away.

  Sadie wasn’t fooling her dog for one second with her upbeat tone. Sadness was probably oozing out her pores.

  She thought of the long weeks of writing that lay ahead, the long weeks of sitting out on that empty deck, waiting for someone who’d never come home. Her chest hollowed out and she swallowed hard. “It’ll go fast. You’ll see.”

  When the omelet was done she scraped it onto a plate and set it on the island. She was just pulling out the barstool when the doorbell rang.

  Rio raced for the door and Sadie wasn’t far behind. Her heart threatened to burst from the confines of her rib cage. She pressed her palm there. Rein it in. You’re gonna scare him off for good. But she didn’t slow her steps and paused only to grab Rio before twisting the handle.

  “Surprise!”

  Sadie blinked at the woman standing on her porch as her stomach bottomed out in disappointment. “Caroline. I just called you.”

  “I know. But I wanted to surprise you.”

  “And you did.” She forced a happy tone. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have an unexpected three-day weekend and thought I’d make a quick trip to visit my best friend.”

  “That’s great.” Sadie surveyed her side of the drive, empty but for her own car. “How’d you get here?”

  “I flew and then Ubered. Are you going to let me in or what?” She laughed.

  “Of course. Come in.” Sadie moved aside for her friend and peeked out in time to see Sam striding back toward his apartment. His truck’s passenger door stood open.

  She closed her door and set Rio down.

  “This place is so nice.” Caroline spun around, taking it all in. Then she headed for the back and stared out the door toward the ocean. “Wow, the pictures didn’t do it justice. My mom’s been holding out on me. Speaking of holding out”—she pointed a finger at Sadie—“your neighbor.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “You said he was curmudgeonly and hairy. I was picturing an ogre.”

  Sadie couldn’t even dredge up a smile. “Oh, that. Yeah, he’s actually very nice. We, um, we dated for a little while. But that’s over now.”

  Caroline gave her a wry grin. “Let me guess, you broke up with him. Does he root for the Mets? Have a complicated coffee order? Did he do something mean to you in a dream?”

  He hadn’t done anything at all. It was all Sadie’s fault, and somehow that made it so much worse. Her face crumpled as tears welled up in her eyes.

  Caroline’s expression wilted. “Hey, hey, I was just kidding.”

  “I ruined it, Caroline. I messed everything up.”

  The woman’s arms came around her. She patted her back and made soft crooning noises while Sadie completely lost it. Caroline led her to the couch.

  “Come on, honey, sit down. Tell me all about it.”

  So Sadie did just that, starting at the beginning with the trade they’d made and her decision to use their story for the plot of her novel. She told her friend about his previous relationship with Amanda and the betrayal that had followed. She continued the story right up through yesterday when he’d read her pages and broken up with her.

  Caroline listened to the whole thing without interrupting, without passing judgment. At one point she pulled a tissue from the nearby box and pressed it into Sadie’s hand.

  Sadie swallowed against the lump in her throat. “And now he’s moving back to his apartment . . . to get away from me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Sam?”

  “I didn’t see the point. It was always destined to be a dead-end relationship.”

  Her friend’s gaze drifted over Sadie’s face, no doubt seeing splotchy cheeks and smudged makeup. She covered Sadie’s hand. “Oh, honey . . . you’re in love with him.”

  Sadie pulled her hand away and sent her friend a mock glare. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this awful?”

  “It’s not . . . when it’s right.”

  Sadie should’ve known better than to lose her heart to Sam.

  “This just happened yesterday?” Caroline asked. “Are you sure it’s really over?”

  “Did you not see him loading his things into his truck?”

  “Still . . . he must have feelings for you. That doesn’t just go away overnight.”

  “I broke his trust and that was already in short supply. I should’ve been honest with him from the first.” Enough of this. Sadie swiped the tissue across her face and blew her nose. “I’ll be okay. It had to end eventually. Probably better that it happened now than later. I would’ve only grown to care for him more.” Was that even possible?

  Caro’s eyes softened as she wrapped her arm around Sadie. “There’s nothing wrong with falling for someone, you know. When it’s right it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.”

  Sadie wasn’t too sure about that. “Well, obviously this wasn’t right. I live in New York and Sam’s life is here. It’s fine. This is just the way it was meant to be.”