I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat. I’d never regretted anything that had happened between Flynn and me . . . until that last night, when we’d argued with such heat, when I’d seen the expression of betrayal on his face as I’d said I didn’t think I could leave Burton after all.
With one trembling fingertip, I traced the slanted writing, imagining Flynn scribbling the words at his locker before he’d slipped it into my hands. Not for the first time tonight, I wondered where he was now, what he was doing . . . and who he was doing it with. Over the years, I’d perfected the fine art of ignoring any talk about Flynn Evans and his current life. It hadn’t always been easy; people wanted to tell me, wanted to see my expression when I heard the update. But being estranged from his family had helped, since they were the ones who really knew the details about him now. I avoided them all, which wasn’t a simple feat in a town the size of Burton.
I never let myself think of what might have been. It hurt too much. I never played the dangerous game of what if. It was pointless to second-guess decisions that had been made so long ago.
But tonight, sitting cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, with memories scattered all about me, I let it all back in. I imagined what my life might be now if I’d left Burton with Flynn as we’d planned . . . or if he’d agreed to stay with me until the farm was more secure. I sank back into an alternate universe where I’d never lost the man I would always love, where I’d never suffered the heartbreak of his abandonment and never had to live one single day without his touch.
And with all my resolve weakened, I cried tears of regret, hurt and loss as I mourned for the man who had been my first and only love.