Anna reached for him, but instead of joining her, he pulled her into his lap and whispered into her hair. “You’re a sex goddess, Anna. A verifiable sex goddess, and I am at your service.”
After a shared shower, they dismantled the queen-size bed frame, carried the pieces to her sewing studio, and left the box spring and mattress on the floor.
“Do you want my help with anything else?” Liam sat on the lone kitchen stool, about to bite into his second ham sandwich.
She shook her head. “I think I’m going to hire a couple of Gigi’s friends who started a moving business, but first I’ve got to rent a storage unit. I don’t know what I want to do with a lot of this…stuff, but I want to give my kids time to go through it and not feel rushed.”
“Are you thinking of selling the cottage?”
Anna nodded. “I considered it for about five minutes.”
“I’m glad you didn’t give it any more time than that. This place is pretty idyllic.”
“I love the setting, but I don’t want to get tangled up in thinking that preserving memories equals never letting anything change. Because I’m changing. I’m growing into the next version of myself, and that version needs to be surrounded by things that reflect that.”
“I’m glad I got to witness the unveiling of the new Anna.” He finished his sandwich and sipped at his mug of coffee.
“You’ve had something to do with it, you know.” She reached across the narrow island and clasped his elbows.
“It has been my privilege.”
“Do you have your departure date?” she asked, stroking his arms, feeling for his muscles beneath the flannel shirt.
“Two weeks from yesterday.”
She withdrew her hands and straightened. “That’s sooner than I expected.”
“Me too, but orders are backing up, clients are getting antsy, and I’m close to accomplishing what I came here for.”
“Your health?”
Liam nodded. “I feel stronger, my head’s clearer, but it’s been the creative reinvigoration I most needed. And though it wasn’t on my agenda to have a steady lover, you’ve had a big influence of helping to get my juices flowing.” His smile pulled Anna to his side of the counter. He held her between his thighs. “I’ll miss you.”
She slipped her arms around his chest, the scents of sex and sandwiches flooding her nostrils. “I’ll miss you too.”
They stayed in their embrace long enough for her to become aware of the ticking of his watch. She closed her eyes, his hair against her cheeks, and willed herself not to shed any poor-me tears.
He squeezed her tight before relaxing his hold and leaning away. His hands slid to her ribcage. “I forgot to tell you. My former girlfriend paid me a visit on Saturday, after you left.”
“How was that for you?” She fought every urge fighting to the surface. He had healed, and he was leaving. He wasn’t hers anymore.
“I was irritated at first. She got in touch with Daniel, and he let her know I was in Rhinebeck.” He stood and carried his plate to the sink. “We had dinner Saturday night.”
“And?”
Liam turned his back to the sink, crossed his arms, and crossed his ankles. “We had dinner, and we talked. We’re going to try again.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Anna tried to make light of Liam’s news, tried to rally a modicum of happiness for him, but she couldn’t. He explained Cassidy had gone into therapy after their break up, and she seemed changed, more aware of her self-centeredness. She owned her behavior and apologized. Cold embers caught flame, and now the two of them were considering taking a second chance at making a relationship work.
He left Anna’s house after breaking this wholly unexpected piece of news. His matter-of-fact delivery further derailed her. Standing at the kitchen counter, facing the maw of her upended living room, Anna let loose a hidden cistern of unshed, anger-infused tears.
Change hurt. And in this moment, it was proving difficult—if not impossible—to embrace the idea she was better off now than she’d been on her birthday. Daniel’s emails planted seeds of hope, even nurtured them into sprouting.
And Liam managed to insinuate himself into her quiet, ordered life to the point she couldn’t move through the rooms of her house or walk on her stretch of beach or even see clients at the marina without thinking about him.
He was leaving the island, and she was staying.
He was picking up the threads of his life and reworking them into stronger, more creative connections. A few of those threads—her newly revealed history with his uncle, Cassidy’s re-entry—were tangled, but Liam was resourceful and creative.
He would do fine.
Anna pulled the stool into the kitchen and folded her arms on the counter. She wanted to cry and keep on crying until she was dried out or else the overwhelming feeling of being abandoned midway through her self-improvement project would take over and she’d go back to being Invisible Anna in the oversized hoodies and the little gray truck.
When the waterworks slowed, she took two aspirin for the headache brought on by Liam’s confession and called the only storage company on the island. They could deliver a pod to her house the next day and pick it up when she was ready.
She dug out a canvas boat bag from under a jumble of winter boots on the floor of the coat closet and tossed in her toiletry kit and a few changes of clothes. She double-checked to see lights and burners were off and windows were locked and added chargers for her laptop and cell phone. She riffled through kitchen cabinets overstuffed with mismatched dishes and found a dinged-up travel mug and a water bottle.
When Anna left her house, she was a woman without a destination, wanting to be anywhere but shuttered within the confines of her cottage and this seventy-four-square-mile island.
Thirty minutes later, she pulled into line at the nearest ferry terminal, and ten minutes after that, she boarded a ferry to another, bigger island. She’d figure out
