“Ask Dean. He left that for you.” She hugged me. “I’m so happy you’re here. Come down when you’re ready.”
“Okay.” After she left, I peered out the window at the postage-stamp of a backyard already blanketed in snow. Ugh. November on the East Coast.
Two hours after the abrupt end of my whirlwind affair with Christophe, after buckets of inexplicable tears, I’d called Dara. Two days later, my tickets were booked, and two weeks later, here I was, still fighting the dense fog clouding my thoughts.
When Christophe’s words had gelled and the sleek sheen of independence had worn itself into a tarnished grey, devoid of sparkle and excitement, I’d longed for the comfort of my closest of friends. Tired of rattling around my beloved condo, I’d turned to the logical choice. Dara.
Beth was wrapped up all things Greg, and I needed to let her to take her own shot at happiness. Anyway, what could she say except “I told you so?” We’d worn our conversations about Jake and Christophe down to the core, heading twenty miles underground if we dug any deeper.
I sat and laid the unopened package across my knees, running the sparkly pink and silver curling ribbons between my fingertips, the slice of rejection cutting into my soul. Turning the package, I picked at a second layer of tape sealing the edges of the paper. I examined it, gnawing at my lower lip, sure that he’d carefully slit the tape to avoid ripping the colourful wrapping with its cute and colourful sea creatures, resealing the gift with equal care.
His message was clear. My gifts were unacceptable and unappreciated. We were over.
Chapter 18
Dara squeezed my hand as we entered Seaport Market. “I’m glad you’re here. When was the last time you were in Halifax?”
“Almost six years.” A myriad of familiar scents assailed my nostrils; baking bread, French fries, and coffee, along with the pungency of raw shrimp, scallops, and fish from the seafood vendor. “It doesn’t feel like much has changed.”
My friend held up a hand. “Hold that thought.” She beelined to the right, ducking into the hallway with the large Washroom sign above it.
“Again?” I muttered, but shrugged it off, treading my own path with crossed fingers, delighted to find the stand in its usual place, but not so delighted with the usual line up. “Two, please. Chocolate, with caramel,” I said once I’d reached the front of the queue, watching as the young woman beside the cashier popped two spindles into the mini-oven. The tantalizing scent of fresh cake made my mouth water as I paid and stepped to the side.
“What a surprise, finding you buying Chimney cake. Chocolate?”
I curled my damp palms into the cuffs of my over-sized sweatshirt. “With caramel.” After a deep breath, I dared look up. “What are you doing here?”
“Shopping for dinner.” Jake waggled a package wrapped in brown butcher paper. “Dara finally talked you into visiting.”
“She’s pretty convincing.” Shuffling my feet, I tipped my chin down, holding my hand stiff at my side. It took everything in me not to stare, and even more effort not to brush away the errant wisp of hair curling across his forehead. “What are you making?”
“Surf and turf,” he said. “I’m on my way to pick up shrimp and scallops.”
“Yum. Haven’t had that since …” The last time you barbecued on my patio. I bit my lip and peeked at him. My entire body ached as our gazes met and locked.
“How long are you here? Maybe we could—”
“There you are! Ready to head home?” The petite blonde rested one hand on Jake’s then linked her arm with his. Her bright smile almost made me nauseous. “Hi. I’m Lianne.”
A dropping feeling and sudden weakness in my knees made me sway. “Amara,” I said, pasting on a smile. Fortunately, my order landed on the counter. “I should go. Dar will be wondering where I went.” I scooped up the Chimney cakes and hurried back the way I came, weaving through the crowd of shoppers, relieved when I spotted my friend sitting on a wooden bench.
“Thought I lost you.” Dara smirked as she accepted one of the cardboard trays. “Should have known you’d indulge your chocolate cravings.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re pale.”
“I’m good.” I sat and crammed one end of the cake into my mouth, savouring the whipped cream filling.
“Hmm.” She bit into her own cake, eyeing me as she chewed. Finally, she said. “Maybe your mood has something to do with Jake.”
I lifted one shoulder and took another massive bite.
Dar snorted. “I saw you talking to him at the bakery, so drop the pretence. Seeing him bothered you.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Liar. Double liar, in fact. You and Jake, canoodling in Vancouver, but nary a word to me.”
“The rat told you?”
“Are you referring to my husband?” Her arched brow accompanied a twitch of her lips. “My beautiful, kind, loving man pried the truth out of our wonderful, yet thoroughly depressed, friend. Jake slaved over his grant proposal for months, and we expected tears of joy when his funding was approved, but instead, he got moody. Talk about waving a red flag.”
“Ah.” What could I possibly say to that?
“Then I heard about you messing around with Christophe.” Dara wagged a finger. “That guy? Really?”
“What? He’s nice!”
“No, not nice! I bet he was all over you. He’s not a good guy, and if I’d known he was moving in, I’d have warned you.”
“I disagree, but you’re Team Jake, so naturally you’d say that.”
She folded her arms over her belly. “Damn right. Jake went ballistic when he found out.”
“Hypocrite.” I crumpled my napkin and dropped it into the empty wrapper. “Jake’s soaking up all that’s Lianne.”
“Ahh. You’re jealous!” Dara looked oddly pleased, but she only patted my knee. “Let’s round up the stuff for dinner. Dean will be tracking me down soon.”
“What, your beautiful, kind, loving man can’t be without you for two hours?” I tossed our trash into one of the silver bins. “Come on. Let’s do
