“I wonder why,” Noah remarked, but he was smiling affectionately when he said it.
“Of course, there’s no place like Sweetbriar Cove to raise a family,” Gayle said happily. “I hoped when he got engaged that they might think about moving back here, but, well …” Her smile faltered.
Evie felt Noah tense beside her, and even Jeff glanced away.
Something had happened, she realized.
Something had happened—and nobody wanted to talk about it.
“I never spent much time on the Cape,” she put in quickly. “But when I saw the ad for the inn. I couldn’t resist.” She told the story of how she’d come to buy the Beachcomber, and soon everyone seemed to have relaxed again.
“And now here you are, putting down roots. Planning for the future. How lovely.” Gayle shot a look at Noah. “What about kids?” she continued.
Kids?
Evie blinked at the whiplash change of subject, but Gayle was looking at her expectantly.
Oh God, she was serious.
“Mom,” Noah interrupted, trying to change the subject. “Did I see you working on a new painting?”
But Gayle clearly had a one-track mind, and that track was getting her only son married off and in the family way ASAP. “It’s just a friendly question!” she said. “You’re what, thirty now? At your age, you won’t want to wait around before getting started, trying for a baby. It’s a wonder you’re not settled already. Have you checked your fertility levels?”
Evie wished the ground would open and swallow her up.
Her—or the tagine. She wasn’t fussy. Either would do.
“Mom,” Noah said grimly. “That’s enough.” Evie could tell that his jaw was clenched with tension, but even so, his mom was too busy sizing Evie up to notice.
“Oh, hush. You know, I didn’t get pregnant with Noah’s sister until I was forty! You’ve got plenty of time. You’re smart … you’re beautiful,” Gayle continued, beaming. “It’s a wonder a girl like you hasn’t already been snapped up!”
“Mom!” Noah finally exploded, his face stormy with rage. “Would you please just back off?”
Gayle’s face fell. There was an awkward silence.
“It’s fine.” Evie placed a hand on Noah’s arm, feeling bad for everyone. “I was married,” she said simply. “And yes, we wanted kids. But he passed away.”
“Oh.” Gayle paused. “What a shame. Still, every step leads us in the right direction,” she said, and from the way she was eyeing the pair of them, Evie could tell that direction was down the aisle. “I always say, there’s always a second chance waiting if we just keep our eyes open enough to see. Now, how about dessert?” she asked. “I made a special flan. You wouldn’t think grapefruit and carrots would go together, but they do!”
She got to her feet, and Noah loudly scraped back his chair. “I’ll help,” he said grimly. He grabbed some empty dishes and followed her to the kitchen. The door swung shut behind them, but Evie could still hear snatches of angry conversation drifting out, phrases like “massive overstepping” and “personal boundaries.”
Evie cleared her throat, flashing an awkward smile at Noah’s father. “So …”
“So …,” he echoed, looking just as awkward. The silence stretched on as Noah’s voice grew angrier and angrier on the other side of the door. Evie felt bad. Gayle was just trying to be nice—in her wildly nosy way.
“I’ll just go,” she said, gesturing, and quickly hurried through to the kitchen.
She found Noah looking so furious, it took her by surprise. She’d never seen him angry before—and definitely not like this.
“Maybe you should talk to Caitlin and clear the air,” Gayle was saying. “I’m sure she’s hurting too.”
“She’s the one who pushed me away!” Noah snapped. “She shut me out, and I had to deal with it all alone!”
He saw Evie standing there and stopped talking.
“Is everything OK?” she ventured, more confused than ever. Whatever they were fighting about, she had no idea.
“Fine,” Noah said shortly. “Come on, let’s go.”
“What about the flan?” his mom protested, but Noah was already striding past Evie in the direction of the front door. Gayle exhaled, looking disappointed. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“Of course not,” Evie said quickly. “I better go, too. It was lovely meeting you both,” she added. “And dinner was … unforgettable!”
She hurried out, catching up with Noah by his truck as he flung himself behind the wheel. She scrambled into the passenger seat and buckled up, watching anxiously as he revved the engine and sped away without a word. The twilight woods blurred outside the widow as they turned onto the highway, the miles passing in silence, Noah’s expression grim.
Evie wracked her brains for what to say. She didn’t know why Noah had exploded like that, but it was clear something had been simmering beneath the surface all through dinner.
“Well, at least we escaped the flan,” she finally said, trying to lighten the mood, but Noah barely even nodded in response. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.
Her heart ached for him—he seemed locked deep in his own private battle. “You can talk to me, you know,” she said quietly. “It’s OK if you don’t want to, or you’re not ready, but … I’m here for you. Sometimes it makes it easier, just to share.”
She glanced over, but again, Noah didn’t reply, he just kept driving, eyes fixed to the road. Then, suddenly, he pulled over, bumping down a sandy road and coming to a stop in an empty clearing by the beach. For a moment, he just sat there, staring out at the horizon. Then he spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“The breakup with Caitlin, it wasn’t just about us. She was pregnant,” he said, sounding so hollow it just about broke her heart. “We lost the baby.”
13
Noah gazed out over the water. He couldn’t look at Evie just yet, so the words sat between them, heavy with guilt.
He’d never wanted to tell her like this. A part of him never wanted to tell her at all. It was in the past, that’s what he’d been telling himself for months now. Ancient history. He’d done his grieving and left it all behind in Nashville, a shadow in his rearview mirror. He was starting over back in Sweetbriar Cove, and meeting Evie had felt like being given a fresh slate: a way to ignore the past and move on.
But maybe there was no pushing past it. It was always there, in the background, even when he tried to pretend otherwise. The wound that still felt raw and pained.
The daughter he never got to hold.
Noah wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting there when he felt Evie take his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze. He forced himself to look over at her, and her found her watching him with heartbreaking tenderness in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
But maybe she could. She’d lost someone she’d loved, after all. And knowing she’d been through that made Noah take a deep breath—and finally start to speak.