She tried to ignore the little voice in her head telling her she was a disappointment. That if only she’d stayed at Ansell she’d be one of them. All those hopes and dreams she’d had when she’d opened her acceptance letter came flooding back.
Once upon a time she’d really believed she could be someone.
With a swipe of her hand, she closed down Facebook. It was just a stupid reunion. She wouldn’t be going. Her life was here, in Hartson’s Creek, and for the most part it was a happy one.
She wasn’t going to dwell on what could have been. That would be madness.
* * *
Tap, tap.
Maddie blinked at the noise, looking around the room. It was late, almost eleven, and she was thinking about turning off her light. It had been a long day of teaching.
Then there was a knock. Louder, surer. Maddie frowned and stared at the closed curtains across her window. Sometimes birds would walk along the ledge and tap their beaks on the glass, but not at this time of night. She swallowed hard and walked over to the window, her pulse racing, as she curled her fingers around the thick cotton curtain.
Oh so slowly she lifted it, just enough to be able to peek through. On the other side, a hand lifted again, knuckles connecting with the glass, making her jump.
“Gray?”
She yanked the curtain and unlatched the window, pushing it open. It really was him. Gray Hartson in the flesh, staring in at her with the strangest expression on his face.
“I hoped this was still your room,” Gray said, a half–smile curling his lips. “I didn’t want to knock on the front door in case your mom was asleep.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked him.
His eyes were soft. Was that whiskey she could smell on his breath? It was warm and spicy and made her want to step closer.
“Yeah. I just wanted to see you. Tell you I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
Gray pulled his cap off, using his other hand to rake his fingers through his hair. It fell in a perfect messy style over his brow. “For being an asshole the other night. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“You could have told me that while it was light,” she teased.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, I coulda. I probably should have. But
I’m here now.”
“Have you been drinking?” she asked him.
“Just a little.” He shrugged. “I had a bad day and needed to take the edge off.”
“I know the feeling.” She thought about the two bottles of beer she’d drunk that evening.
He nodded. “So that was it, really. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He grinned at her again. “And I am. Good night, Maddie.”
Was he leaving? She tried to swallow down the disappointment. It wasn’t as though she wanted him to try to kiss her again. It was good that he hadn’t. Even if he was soft and warm and a little drunk.
“Good night,” she whispered. She stood at the window and watched as he started to walk back up the path. Then he turned on his heel to face her again, his body wobbling.
“Oh and Maddie?”
“Yeah?”
“What you said that night about nobody seeing you? You were wrong. I see you. I’ve always fucking seen you.” The corner of his mouth lifted up, as he took the few steps back toward her. “You’re impossible to miss.”
Her chest tightened at his words. “You see me?” she asked softly.