When Gwen heard the sound of Jack's truck trundling up the road to the inn, she nearly dropped her phone a second time. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She couldn't act like a crazy woman just because the local fisherman was dropping off fish for them.
She didn't need Jocelyn speculating about their relationship, either.
As Gwen went to meet Jack, her shoulders slumped when she realized one of Jack's workers, Philip, was the one driving the truck.
"Where's Jack?" Gwen forced her voice to sound casual. She also pointedly ignored Jocelyn standing next to her, watching the exchange.
Philip, a young man in his early twenties, shrugged a shoulder. "Said he was too busy for drop-offs and asked me to do it. Where do you want all this?"
"I'll show you," offered Jocelyn.
Gwen felt her skin prickling with goosebumps. In the five years since she'd opened the bed and breakfast, Gwen could count on one hand how many times Jack hadn't been the one delivering. Once, he'd been sick with flu; the other, his truck had had a flat tire.
Both times, Gwen had been worried because it was so unlike Jack to be absent. And each time, whichever worker Jack had sent in his stead had a specific reason why Jack wasn't able to come.
Never once had Jack been "too busy."
You're freaking yourself out, Gwen told herself. He probably is just busy.
Or was he avoiding her? Shame, guilt, anger—it washed through her until she had to stagger to her office and close the door. She sat down in a chair and, realizing the world was spinning around her, put her head between her knees.
Her brain, awash with anxiety, seemed intent on torturing her as memories surfaced. She saw the look on his face when he'd rolled off her. She relived the moment when Tim had stopped hugging her from behind when she'd been cooking. When she'd tried to cuddle next to him on the couch and he'd told her she was too warm.
She'd experienced the death of Tim's affection slowly until it'd been too late to revive it. When she'd called him on it, he'd been defensive. It's your fault, not mine. You're the one with issues.
Gwen was panting. She forced herself to take one slow, deep breath, and then another. Slowly but surely, the world stopped spinning.
But when she thought of Jack, that anxiety resurfaced. She didn't know if she could finish work today. The thought of leaving early for something so trivial made her want to hide under her desk.
Someone knocked on Gwen's office door. "Hey, Philip says your card's expired, and he needs a new one," said Jocelyn through the door.
When Gwen didn't immediately answer, Jocelyn opened the door, peeking in. "Sorry, are you busy?"
Gwen was trying to remember where she'd put the new card she'd gotten from the bank. Had she even activated it? Sighing, she began shuffling through the mail in the wire bin that hadn't been sorted in God knew how long.
When she found the card, she handed it to Jocelyn. "Can you take care of it for me?"
"Sure." Jocelyn gave her a concerned look but didn't press the issue, to Gwen's relief.
But Jocelyn being Jocelyn, she was soon back again, returning the card and asking Gwen what was wrong.
"Is it Philip? He definitely smells like fish. I'm pretty sure he hasn't washed his hands in at least three years," said Jocelyn jokingly.
Gwen tried to smile but failed. "I'm sure he's a fine young man."
Jocelyn leaned against the wall opposite to Gwen. "Then what is it? You looked like you were about to faint when Philip stepped out of the truck."
"Have I mentioned how annoying it is that you pay such close attention?"
Jocelyn nudged her with her foot. "You're stalling."
"I'm okay. No, really. I'm just dealing with some personal stuff right now. It has nothing to do with Philip."
"Is it connected to whoever texted you earlier?"
Gwen let out a breath. "Kind of. It's complicated." Feeling like Jocelyn was only going to keep hounding her, Gwen added, "You know I was married, right?"
Jocelyn nodded.
"My ex has started texting me lately. He says he misses me."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"Not great. It brings back a lot of bad memories."
"Then you should block him."
Gwen felt a little embarrassed that she hadn't done that already. She'd told herself that she didn't want to be that petty. Now, though, she had a good reason to block Tim: his very presence in her messages just sent her spiraling.
Would Jack care if he knew Tim was texting me? Or would he be relieved that he could stop being involved with me?
Gwen's stomach twisted. "I'll block him," she said, more to herself than to Jocelyn. "I should've deleted him a long time ago, anyway." Gwen found Tim and blocked him, relief lifting some of the anxiety that had been pressing on her.
"So that's it? Your ex is just being annoying?" Jocelyn asked.
"Pretty much." Gwen was still staring at her phone because she knew she was a terrible liar.
"Well, I know it might not seem like it, but if you need to talk, you can. I might not be super sympathetic, and I might be too frank in what I think you should do..."
Gwen felt touched by Jocelyn's offer. "I appreciate that. But maybe not right now. I think I'm too messed up to hear any of your advice, anyway."
"Oh, don't worry. I'll save it for when you really need to hear it.”
Jack never failed to appreciate that he wasn't part of the Wright family. Oh, the money would sure be nice, of course. Considering everyone in the family were local celebrities, Jack was glad he wasn't wealthy. Even money couldn't make up for the lack of privacy.
"My mom is doing great, thanks for asking," said Luke for what felt like the thousandth time that day. "She had a cold a month ago, you're right. But it went away quickly. Oh no, it wasn't the flu. Nothing that serious."
Jack rolled his eyes. He'd run into Luke at the local grocery store and Luke had invited Jack to go to lunch. At this point, Jack had a feeling by the time they reached the restaurant it'd be time for dinner, not lunch.
The old biddies of Hazel Island loved Luke Wright. He was handsome, charming, rich, and single. More than one had done her level best to match him up with one of their granddaughters. Luke, though, had remained uncatchable.
Outside the grocery store, Jack folded his arms and waited. Three old ladies had surrounded Luke and weren't about to let him go.
Jack admired his friend's patience. Jack would've up and run from the onslaught of questions and inquiries.
"I have to get going. Yes, I'll tell Mom you said hi. I don't know when she'll be here in town. She doesn't like driving."
Luke gently parted the wave of ladies and gestured at Jack to follow him to his car. Although they could easily walk the four blocks to the Salty Shack, the car provided protection from overzealous islanders.
"The light is red," said Jack when Luke nearly ran over a man crossing the street. The man was about to say something rude when he recognized Luke. Then he just waved happily.
Luke groaned. "Is it me? Do I give off signals that I want them to talk to me?" He gave Jack a pleading look. "Seriously. Be honest."