And I didn’t know how to help it, how to fix it, when I was causing it.
For the past decade, Isabel and I had been . . . just . . . there.
She’d started working for me a few days after her dad had started back in the orchard. Came to the house and let me know that she could do a better job at the business side than me.
I’d laughed, but I’d still led her to the disaster that was my dad’s old office and told her, “Have at it.”
Even though I preferred to be in the orchard, I still ran the business. Everything Isabel did went through me. But I would’ve never been able to get us where we were if it weren’t for her.
In the beginning, when it came to the business, we were strictly business. Most days, that’s all we ever were. But there were the days she would show up early or come over late at night, begging me to help her feel something. There were the days I would grab her before she could leave, asking her to help me forget.
Afterward, we’d talk. Always in the kitchen, though I wasn’t sure why.
We’d talk about Dean or Madison or Piper. We’d talk about our families. Then we’d go our separate ways and return to business as usual until the next time.
No flirtation, no nothing.
It was a couple years before our mornings or nights began happening just because. By that point, Isabel was always her feisty self, and I was moving on with my life. Well, as much as anyone could when their heart was with someone else. Still, we managed to go our separate ways after each time, returning to work and only being best friends.
It wasn’t until this past year that things started changing.
It wasn’t until this last week that we’d stopped fighting the change.
“I keep wondering,” she began, words lacking any kind of emotion as her stare slowly shifted back to me, “if you were to kiss me now, would you see me?”
My chest and stomach twisted painfully. It felt like someone was holding my heart in their hands and slowly crushing it, and I was helpless to stop it.
I wanted to lie to her, tell her yes without a doubt. But that wasn’t how Isabel and I worked. It’d never been that way between us.
Honest. Always. Even if it hurt.
“I don’t know.”
Her eyes glimmered with tears, but she quickly blinked them away. Uncrossing her legs and dropping her feet to the floor, she stood and took a step away.
“Izzy,” I pleaded as I reached for her hand, but she moved it away.
“I have to get started on work.”
I sat there, half out of my chair, torn between following her and giving her time to be alone—to think and process the way she liked to. With a defeated sigh, I sank back and dragged my fingers through my hair as my stare fell on the unused coffee mugs.
One week with Isabel, and we were thrown right back to where we’d been ten years ago. All because of the girl I’d been sure I would never see again.
Fate had cruel timing.
A smile made up of awe and happiness broke across my face when I stepped into Brewed the next morning with Avalee leading the way. She was trying to drag me deeper into the shop, but I was too busy taking in the new addition since I’d left—the coffee shop.
It was stunning. Cozy and inviting with its rustic, industrial vibe. And standing behind the counter with a little smirk of her own—
“Emberly Olsen?” I said a little uncertainly. “Is that you?”
She lifted her hands as if to say who else, but her smile broadened. “Madison no-longer-Black. It’s been a long time.”
An uneven breath left me.
My chest squeezed uncomfortably.
“Uh, yeah . . . funny story about the last name, actually.” The words came softer and softer until they were nearly nonexistent. I cleared my throat, then continued louder. “It’s great to see you, this place is absolutely amazing. My momma was raving about it.”
Pride burst from her as she looked around, but when her attention returned to me, curiosity shone there. She didn’t elaborate, just looked beside me as her expression brightened. “And what’s your name?”
“Avalee,” my daughter said proudly.
“Oh my gosh,” I said quickly, embarrassment leaking through. “I can’t believe I did that. Emberly this is my daughter, Avalee. Honey, Mommy grew up with Emberly.” I made a face at Emberly and mouthed, “Sort of.”
“My name’s Avalee,” my daughter repeated. “Only my daddy calls me Ava. My mommy and friends and everyone else in the whole world call me Avalee. You can call me Avalee if you want.”
“Got it,” Emberly said in faux seriousness. “Only and always Avalee.” When her stare slid my way, she must have seen something in my expression. Some hint of the betrayal or hurt. Because she quickly returned her attention to my daughter. “You know . . . I make a mean chocolate milk.”
Avalee stayed still and silent for a moment before quietly asking, “Why is it mean?”
“No, it—” Emberly made a noise like she had no idea how to get herself out of what she’d said.
“It isn’t mean, sweet girl,” I said and squeezed her hand teasingly. When she looked up at me, I gave her a wink. “She just meant that it’s so, so good.”
Avalee’s eyes went round with understanding even though I was positive she didn’t get it, and then she looked to Emberly. “I love, love, love chocolate milk. Especially mean chocolate milk.”
Definitely didn’t understand.
A huff of a laugh left Emberly. “You got it.” She looked to me in question. “And you?”
“Surprise me,” I said with a shrug. “My momma said she hasn’t had one thing she didn’t love from here, so I’m just excited to try something.”
A brief but bright smile crossed Emberly’s face. “Okay.” She waved off a worker who came up next to her and then did the same to me when I pulled out my wallet. “On me, please. It’s just good to see you in Amber again.”
“Emberly, no, I can’t let you do that.”
Instead of responding to me, she just grabbed two cups and gave Avalee an animated look. “We have picture and coloring books in that corner,” she said, pointing off to the side.
When Avalee looked at me in barely-contained excitement and question, I gave her a little nod and watched as she dashed off in that direction.
“How long are y’all in town for?” Emberly asked once she was gone.
I hesitated as I grabbed a couple straws because there was no way to know. I hadn’t even anticipated coming back here. “I don’t know.”
“Funny how that happens to be one of my least favorite answers to that question.” Her words were mumbled so quickly and softly, I nearly missed it. “You know,” she continued on just loud enough for me to hear, “you haven’t come back in . . . God, I don’t know. I think we opened the coffee shop a year after you left, so a damn long time. And I know you were wearing a ring when we saw you yesterday . . .”
“You saw me yesterday?”
Her eyes snapped to mine from where she was standing behind the espresso machines. After a moment, the corner of her mouth lifted. “Cayson and I were standing with Hunter. Not entirely surprised you didn’t notice anyone but him.”