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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1563751-Second-Chance
Rated: E · Fiction · Friendship · #1563751
What happens when you meet someone with whom you used to be friends ... and more?
“Oh! I’m sor …” The apology died on her lips as she looked up from the very masculine chest she’d just run into. Staring back at her in concern were the blue eyes of her former friend. Good ol’ What’s-His-Face as she’d taken to calling him in her secret thoughts. And in her even more secret thoughts, those blue eyes twinkled at Molly in amusement, laughter, anger … desire.

“Well, Molly Swenson. It’s been years.” Realizing he was still gripping her upper arms, Bradley Thompson let her go as suddenly as if he’d been burned. He plunged his hands into his jacket pocket and twisted them into fists to keep himself from touching her again. He’d always had the hots for her. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. But that bitchy little priss voice of hers had driven him insane in his memories.

“Brad.” Her voice was tight and sounded harsh. Molly knew she was being stupid but she never quite understood exactly why he’d stopped talking to her.

“You look good, Molly. What have you been up to?” He turned to look in the shop window where they’d collided. She did as well for lack of something better to do.

Walk away, moron! she thought irritably. He stopped talking to you for a reason. “I’ve been working mostly. Thinking about buying a house. Possibly moving out of state if I get the promotion I’ve been shooting for. You?” She ignored the mental voice that started cursing at her as she stood there, gazing blindly in the window of a specialty cheese shop and completely forgetting that she’d meant to enter it moments before.

“I’ve been working mostly. I’m moving back into the area.” His tone was clipped, hinting at pain beneath the smooth surface.

“Oh? Really? How come?” More curses came from her mental voice, all of them questioning her sanity.

He turned his gaze back to her. “Do you really care or are you just being polite?”

“Can’t I do both?” Irritation sparkled in her green eyes as she brushed her blonde hair out of them. God! He was so annoying! When had he gotten better looking than the man she’d known? Sometimes, that mental voice should come with a dimmer switch or something.

He smiled slightly, a coolness creeping onto his face. “We’d better go sit down for a bit. It’s a long story. Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee.” He took her gloved hand without thought or noticing the slight jump and led Molly down the street into a coffee shop.

It was one of her favorite places that had book lined shelves and plush, extra wide chairs that invited you to sink into them and your favorite story. There were end tables scattered about in a variety of shapes and colors to add to the ambiance. But rather than heading to a shelf to peruse the authors and stories contained within, they dropped their coats onto two chairs and headed up to the counter.

Molly’s friend Heather ran the shop. She’d wanted a way to combine the things she loved in one place and come up with The Coffery. There was a little café in the back that produced pastries, brownies, and cookies to die for along with sandwiches and soups on cold days such as today. There were no dining tables as most people had gotten into the habit of bringing their snacks or lunches back to the chair in which they immersed themselves. Stains on the upholstery were scrubbed afterhours and, if they didn’t quite come out, weren’t fretted over. There was a fireplace that dominated one wall and most autumn or winter days had a fire blazing in its depths. If a customer wanted to borrow a book, Heather lent it out with the understanding that it would return or another one would be given in its stead. Her inventory was everchanging as people kept books and brought in new ones.

Molly inhaled the scent of fire, lemon oil, and candlewax along with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Wafting on the air was the scent of something fabulous being baked with chocolate as well. She sneaked a glance at the man by her side. Brad was definitely deep in thought about something. What?

Their turn at the counter came up next. “Hey Mol!” Heather’s voice came from the kitchen. “What’ll you have?” The clerk was already handling Brad’s order so she called back to the voice. “Hey! I’m just having a coffee.”

“Cool. Ang’ll get that for you. Come back and visit with me for a couple of minutes when you’re done.”

“Dude, you know your baking kills me. I don’t think I can stand being back there with you without wallowing in a vat of the chocolate covered whatever you have.”

“You know they’re magic. The calories automatically don’t count. It’s like you’re eating air.”

Brad chuckled as he listened to the exchange. So did several other customers within earshot.

“I’ll pick up hers too,” Brad told the teenage clerk who obliged the good looking stranger. As Molly picked up her cup and saucer and turned to the condiment station, the girl winked at her as if it say, “Good job!” Her face suddenly flushed with heat and she turned away to add her cream. One of her indulgences was having cream in her coffee. She could deny herself practically anything but that.

Finally, they sat down in a corner near the fireplace. There were few customers seated near them so neither feared being overheard. “So …” she started. “What brings you back into town?” She curled her leg underneath her and leaned in toward the side table where she’d placed her mug.

Brad leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, staring into the mug that was cupped in his hands. “Several reasons really. I’m moving back into the area for starters.”

Molly had to force herself to breathe normally. “R … Really? Permanently or temporarily?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, still staring at the cup between his knees. “I needed a fresh start after …” His voice trailed off. She waited for him to continue, gazing absently into the fire. “ … after my wife died.” He said it so quietly that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

“I’m sorry,” Molly said just as quietly. Her eyes flicked to his left hand and noticed the indentation where his wedding ring used to lie. She didn’t say anything else because she didn’t know quite what to say.

“So am I. She deserved much better than me.”

He heaved a sigh and sat back, also staring into the fire. But she had the feeling that he wasn’t watching the flames dance and devour the wood. He was lost in memories. Good or bad memories, she wasn’t sure.

“I guess the only way to start is at the beginning. I met Joanna in college after we … well … “ He broke off, awkward.

“Broke up. I remember,” she said, short with him again.

He grinned slightly, relieved that she filled in the pause. “It was definitely after you. I wasn’t looking for anything permanent and neither was she.” He chuckled, almost to himself. “Funny, isn’t it? For something that started out to be a temporary thing, it endured. We dated through our last year and then graduated. I went to work for a property management company and moved to the city. She got a job in an accounting firm in the same place so it sort of stuck. We continued to date for a while.”

He stopped abruptly and took a long sip of his coffee. “It was comfortable. She had her own interests. I had mine. We had things we did together. Sunday mornings at a local café, sharing the paper. We had the same friends. Comfortable. We eventually moved in together and it was just … assumed that we’d get married someday.”

Molly smiled thinly, not wanting to hear any of this. She should get up and walk away. She should stick her spoon up his nose. She should throw her mug at him. Anything to get him to stop speaking. Enjoying the various images running through her mind, she realized that she’d stopped paying attention. <i>So much for conversation but it gives you a chance to look at him again,</i> she told herself. <i>He IS the one that got away.</i>

“ … like more than love.” Brad looked at her. “Well, long story short. We were married before we were ready to be. By then, we passed into roommates more than anything. And she deserved better than that. We talked about having children but I said I didn’t want them. She developed breast cancer not too long after that and I stayed. I’d been thinking about a divorce up until that point because I just knew that I couldn’t give her what she wanted …”

“What was it that she wanted?” Molly heard herself asking to fill the void after he trailed off.

He was quiet for a long moment, thinking about how to word the response.

“Me. She loved me and wanted all of me. The good, the bad. Everything. But I felt trapped by it and it seemed like a mistake when there was someone else I wanted.” His blue eyes pierced hers and seemed to drive right into her mind. “You. It’s always been you, Mol. Joanna knew that and took what was left for her. It wasn’t much but it was all I had to give. And that’s why I wasn’t good for her and didn’t deserve her.” He sat back in his chair, put his cup on the little table between them, and reached across the void to take her hand. “I’ve uprooted myself and come back for you if you’ll have me. Will you?”

Molly sat there for a moment, staring into the face of her future. Decisions … decisions …
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