Page 46 of Dead Men Tell No Shells

“I’m glad you did.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’m glad you found your writing, and your friends, and a life that belongs to you. I don’t want you to think that I came back expecting you to put everything aside because I’d finally decided to be brave enough to face you.”

I studied him for a long moment. “I don’t think I could do that, even if I wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

We sat in silence for a little while, neither of us rushing to fill it. My plate was nearly empty, and I’d finally managed to drink most of my coffee. For once, I didn’t feel the need to look at my phone or invent an excuse to leave. I was still angry. I was still hurt. But I was also curious about the man sitting across from me, and that was something I hadn’t expected to feel so soon.

Josiah glanced at his watch and sighed. “I’m sorry. I have to get back to the office. There are still a dozen things I need to follow up on today.”

“Of course.”

He reached for his wallet, but I shook my head when he started to pull out cash.

“I can pay for my own breakfast.”

“I know you can.” He paused, then smiled faintly. “At least let me buy your coffee. Call it a small courtesy between two people who used to share a lot more than coffee.”

I hesitated, then let him leave the money on the table. It was a small thing, and it didn’t mean anything beyond what it was. At least, that was what I told myself. We stood beside the booth, suddenly uncertain again about what to do next. He didn’t try to hug me or touch my arm. He simply waited, giving me the choice of how to end the meeting.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he finally said.

I gave him a nod.

“I’ll be in touch about the case, and I’ll let you know if we need anything else from you. You can always call the office if you remember something.”

“I will.”

He nodded and started toward the door. Just before he reached it, he turned back. “Max?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said last night, and just now. About never stopping loving you. I’m not saying it to make you feel responsible for that, and I’m not asking you to say anything back. I just don’t want you to think I’m pretending those feelings disappeared because I stayed away.”

My throat tightened. I wanted to tell him that he had no idea what it had cost me to live with the unanswered questions he’d left behind. I wanted to ask why he hadn’t found a way to call, or write, or send one simple message. I wanted to know whether he understood that love wasn’t just something you felt privately while leaving the other person to make sense of your absence. Instead, I held his gaze.

“I hear you, Josiah.”

He seemed to understand that it was all I could offer him. He gave a small nod and left.

I remained by the booth for a moment, watching through the window as he crossed the sidewalk and headed toward his vehicle. Then I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and sat down again.

June appeared beside me with the coffee pot. “Would you like a refill?”

I looked over at her. She was trying very hard to seem casual, which meant she’d probably been watching the entire conversation from the counter.

“Yes, please.” I slid back into my seat.

She topped off my cup and gave me a gentle smile. “You alright?”

I considered giving her a joke, or telling her that everything was fine, or making some comment about how the coffee was the only thing in Hartwell Cove that wasn’t asking me to make a decision about Josiah Mercer. But the truth was more complicated than that.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said.

June nodded as if that were a perfectly reasonable answer. “Well, take your time.”