The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(15)

Thayer looks down at me with drawn brows, clearly worried he might have to give me the Heimlich.

“What are you doing here?” I reach for the water glass the waitress dropped off when she first came by for my order. A couple of sips seems to help clear my throat.

Thayer looks down at me, his hand on the chair across from me—still waiting for a yes or no. That’s Thayer. He won’t push me or do anything I’m not comfortable with. If I say no, he’ll leave or at least go to another table, and won’t make me feel sorry for it.

His mouth twitches almost imperceptibly, but I’m honed in on the gesture, always searching for his smiles. “One usually eats in a restaurant.”

“I meant at my table.” My fingers shake the tiniest bit when I lower them from the water glass. I hate that it’s been so long since I’ve seen him and the man still has the ability to put me in knots. Tucking my hand under the table, I lace my fingers together.

He shrugs, still holding onto the chair like it’s some sort of lifeline. There’s a ring around his pinky. He never used to wear one before and I can’t help but be curious why he does now. “I saw you and I thought maybe we could eat together.”

“We had dinner the other night.”

“With your mother.” He points out, straightening. “It’s okay. I’ll grab mine to-go.”

He turns to walk away. Lowering my head to stare at the red and white checkered tablecloth I can’t help but feel like such a complete bitch.

“Thayer.” I sigh, shoulders drooping. He freezes, not turning fully around but giving me the side of his handsome face. “Sit down.”

He turns, facing me. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Please.”

He pulls the chair out and sits. The plain gray tee he wears shouldn’t look so nice, but it hugs his chest in all the right places.

This feels so much more awkward than the other night at my house. Then, my mom was there as a buffer. Now, it’s only us.

“Oh, I didn’t know someone was joining you. What can I get you, Thayer?”

Of course the waitress knows him—that’s how it is in small towns. I’ve been gone long enough that there are enough people who don’t recognize me.

“The usual,” he says easily, dismissing her. He doesn’t take his eyes off me the entire time. “What are you thinking?”

“You come here a lot.”

“They have good food.” He leans forward, lowering his voice. “Besides, I told you I usually eat out.”

I take a deep breath, my chest shaking when I exhale. I hate that he makes me so nervous. I’m an adult now. A full-grown woman. Thayer Holmes has no right having this hold on me.

Clearing my throat, I grab the stem of the wine glass and take a sip. “How’s life been?”

He chuckles. “That’s a loaded question.”

“How so?”

“It’s been six years, Salem,” he says like I don’t know how long it’s been since I saw him. “A lot happens in that time. Good. Bad. Happy days. Sad ones. That’s what makes it loaded. I don’t even know where to start.”

“At least you seem sober.” I wince as soon as I make the comment.

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry you ever had to see me like that.”

“I don’t want you to constantly be apologizing for the past.” I look away from him, watching an elderly couple get seated a few tables over. “I can’t imagine what kind of shape I’d be in if that were—” I bite my tongue. “If I had to lose a child,” I correct myself.

“I went to therapy. I still go once a month.” He ducks his head, trying to get me to look at him. I relent, meeting that brown-eyed gaze I fell so hard for as a teen. “You inspired me to do that.”

“Me?” I nearly choke on my tongue. “How?”

“You told me that you went to therapy for…” He clears his throat. “Well, you know.” I appreciate that he doesn’t say it out loud. “I knew if you could survive your trauma and go to therapy for help then I could as well. My brother helped too. He moved in and lived with me for over a year.”

“Really?” I’m shocked. I might’ve been the one to call Laith, but I certainly didn’t expect him to go to that extent.

“He … I think he was scared of what I was turning into and didn’t want to leave me on my own until he was certain I was in a better place. He told me you were the one to call him.”

I roll my tongue in my mouth. “You wouldn’t let me help you—and someone had to.”

“I know.” He leans across the table. “It kills me that I pushed you away. That I hurt you the way I did.”

“Then why did you?” The question rolls off my tongue. It’s something I’ve wondered about over the years. It seemed so unlike Thayer.

The waitress appears with a tray containing our food and a glass of water for Thayer. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, we’re good,” I tell her. “Thank you.” I arch a brow at Thayer. “So?” I prompt. I swirl a bite of linguine around the fork.

“I was a broken man, grieving for my child. I had no idea how long I was going to be in that dark place and you were this beautiful, caring woman and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.” He rubs a hand over his stubbled jaw, his eyes haunted from days gone by. “I thought I was doing the right thing, Salem. I know now it was the completely wrong one, but you were nineteen and I wanted to set you free. You would’ve waited for me, however long it took for me to pull myself out of that dark place, I know you would’ve been there and I just … didn’t want you to do that. You deserved more than me.”