Her voice cracked, and June reached out to squeeze her hand. Poppy flushed, embarrassed. "I'm making a big drama out of it, I shouldn't even care."
"But you do." Her aunt gave her a weary smile. "Time doesn't make a difference, not when it matters. When you find your someone. Why, I've had affairs that lasted a week that mattered more than men I knew for years. It's not about how long you spent together. Sharing something real, revealing your heart . . . that always matters, whether it's for a week or a year."
Now Poppy really had to work to keep back the tears. Her aunt was right, she knew it in her gut. But what use was that rare connection when the other person turned around and walked away?
"You should go there," Mackenzie declared. "It worked last time, didn't it? Go to him, and set him straight. Find out what he's so scared of, and don't leave until you figure out a way through it, together."
Poppy shook her head. "I can't," she said sadly. "Not this time. He's made his choice, and I can't just go chasing after somebody who doesn't want me."
"But he does!" Mackenzie protested. "I saw the way he looked at you, how happy he was. I've never seen him like that before."
"No." Poppy took a deep breath. "He's right. Maybe we just weren't meant to be."
"You don't believe that," Mackenzie said stubbornly, and Poppy's heart ached.
"No, I don't. But what choice do I have?" she asked simply. "This isn't one of my books. I can't write a love story out of thin air. Real life doesn't work that way. Sometimes things don't make sense, but they happen anyway," she said, feeling the resignation in her bones. "Not everyone gets a happy ending."
Mackenzie's lips set in a determined line. "You're wrong. I can't believe that."
Poppy thought about how long she'd believed in true love. The hours, and chapters, and thousands of words she'd poured into that one, precious hope. She didn't regret them, not for a minute-and she couldn't regret the time she'd spent with Cooper, the glimpse of that magic she'd seen in his eyes. If she had a chance to do it all over again, she would, no matter how much it hurt now, in the end.
"Look at us, getting maudlin," she said, forcing a smile. "That's what you get for drinking a bottle of wine on an empty stomach. What do you say we go back to the cottage and make dinner? If anything can heal a broken heart, it's your soup, Aunt June."
June chuckled. "I'm one step ahead of you, hon. What do you think I was buying at the grocery store?"
"It's a plan." Poppy got to her feet. "Want to come by?" she asked Mackenzie. "It's the least I can offer, after your hospitality."
"Another time." Mackenzie gave her a swift hug. "But there's something I need to do."
"Then let's get those mugs wrapped up."
They headed for the front of the store, where Poppy picked out enough ceramics to supply all her friends and family for birthdays and holidays for years to come. Mackenzie carefully wrapped them in tissue paper and packed them into boxes. "I can ship them direct to wherever you want," she said.
"That's perfect."
"You won't suddenly bolt out of town, will you?" Mackenzie stopped to check. "Disappear in the dark of night never to return?"
"I still have a few chapters of my book left to write," Poppy reassured her. "And I promise I'll come say goodbye."
"Now you're making me emotional." Mackenzie sniffled.
"I'm going to New York, not Antarctica!" Poppy laughed. "I'll still see June, and you're welcome to come stay any time you want to visit."
"I know, but it's not the same." Mackenzie gave her a wry smile. "I was about to launch my campaign to get you moving here full-time. Although I figured Cooper would take care of that."
"Me too," Poppy said sadly. "But here we are."
Preparing to leave the place she'd just imagined setting down roots. At the end of a chapter, instead of a beginning. She couldn't turn the clock back or rewrite the past, not when Cooper refused to even try. All she could do was keep believing that her happy ending was still out there, and not bound up in six-foot-two of blue-eyed, teasing-smiled heartbreak who wouldn't even take her calls now, let alone look at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.
The only question she still had was, why?
23
Cooper didn't hear the knocking at first; he was half a bottle of whiskey deep and it was only five p.m. It wasn't until the loud banging broke through his numb haze that he realized someone was hammering on his front door.