Page 28 of The Almost Bride

Mia moved through the motions of the morning as if she was sleepwalking. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the aroma of toast and scrambled eggs. The hotel bustled with guests filtering in and out, backpacks lined up in reception, walking sticks propped up against the walls.

She forced a smile as she delivered plates of breakfast, her hands steady on the surface, but trembling every time she had to reach for the coffeepot.

She shouldn’t be this distracted. Work had always been her safe place, the thing she could throw herself into when everything else felt too uncertain. But nothing about today felt normal. It was like the edges of her world were blurred, distorted somehow. There was something missing, absent. Or rather, someone. Someone who had woven herself far more deeply into Mia’s life than Mia had really realized.

Luna.

She had spent two nights crying now. Two nights trying to convince herself that not showing up to dinner, running away, hadn’t been a mistake. Hearing Luna’s words and then storming out had been the right thing to do.

Except a whisper of doubt clawed at her chest. Because she hadn’t heard the whole conversation, had she? Perhaps there had been more to it. Perhaps she should have let Luna explain herself, rather than assuming the worst and walking away.

It was beginning to look like running away from things was becoming a core part of her personality.

But then, Luna hadn’t done anything about all this either. She hadn’t called, hadn’t shown up. On the first night, Mia had comforted herself with the thought that the next morning, Luna would be there, cocky and confident and asking what had happened.

She hadn’t been, though. Mikey had. Mikey had shown up and been sweet and lovely, and Mia had remembered just what a good man he was.

But, said the little voice in her head, you haven’t given Luna a chance. Luna must be hurting too, mustn’t she?

“Excuse me?”

Mia blinked, realizing that she’d been standing motionless, coffeepot in hand, for far too long. A guest smiled at her patiently, holding out his cup. With a nod of apology, she poured the coffee, but her hands betrayed her, and a few drops splashed onto the table.

“Sorry,”

she murmured quickly, reaching for a napkin.

“It’s fine,”

said the man, but Mia barely heard him.

Her mind was already elsewhere, tangled in the memory of Luna’s laughter, the mischief in her eyes, the way she made everything feel bigger and brighter.

Mia had spent so much of her life coloring inside the lines, and then Luna had waltzed into her world with a paintbrush and reckless strokes, leaving behind something messy and beautiful. And now, without her, everything felt so unbearably quiet.

“What has got into you?”

Rachel hissed as she passed by with a plate of eggs.

“Nothing,” Mia said.

“Go and get yourself some coffee,”

said Rachel. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

Mia went back into the kitchen, but didn’t get coffee. Instead, she got distracted and was looking out of the window when Rachel came back in.

“My love, we can’t have a crisis at breakfast time. Lunchtime, yes, breakfast, no. What’s going on?”

“It’s really nothing,”

Mia said. She really didn’t want to talk about it. Putting words on everything would make it too real.

“Mikey was here yesterday,”

said Rachel. “Is that why you’re distracted?”

Mia bit her lip. “A bit,”

she admitted.

Rachel snorted and picked up a dish towel. “He’s bet on a losing horse,”

was all she said as she picked up a handful of silverware to dry.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

asked Mia.

Rachel eyed her. “Only that if he’d have seen you and Luna together, he’d have known to cut his losses and stop chasing you. It’s obvious from the way you and Luna look at each other that there’s something serious going on and…”

She trailed off.

Mia didn’t say anything, just looked at the ground and swallowed hard.

“Love, it’ll all work out in the end,”

Rachel said, stepping closer to put a hand on Mia’s arm. “Whatever this is about, whatever you’ve fought about, it’ll come right.”

“You don’t even like her,”

Mia burst out.

Rachel laughed. “I adore Luna. I just didn’t think Luna was right for you. But what do I know? It turns out that she was exactly what you needed and I’m an interfering old bat. So don’t listen to me. Every love story has its hiccups, it’ll all come good in the end.”

Because she didn’t want to talk about it, Mia just nodded. But she was certain that this was more than a hiccup. This was something unbridgeable, a chasm that was growing between her and Luna. She was no fool, she knew that talking about it with Luna was the only thing to do. She just had to bring herself to do it.

BY LUNCHTIME, MIA had changed all the beds and put away the laundry and done a hundred other little jobs to keep her mind busy. And the walls of the hotel were starting to feel suffocating. That, and she knew she needed to try to talk to Luna. So she stepped outside under the guise of grabbing lunch, needing air and space, needing to clear her head.

She wandered down into town, her feet leading her to her usual haunts without her brain putting more thought in. She walked straight into Helen’s.

“Cinnamon latte?”

Helen asked perkily from behind the counter.

“Actually,”

Mia said. “I was looking for Luna?”

“Not seen her all day, love,”

said Helen. “Nor yesterday either, come to think of it. Is she alright? Not ill, is she?”

“I’m sure she’s fine,”

Mia said with a tight smile as she backed out of the shop. “Absolutely fine.”

She walked on to the florist, eyes darting toward the windows, expecting to see Luna arranging bouquets inside. But there was no one. The door to the florist was locked, the sign turned to closed.

“Jan’s gone to the supplier,”

Miguel said helpfully from outside the bakery. “Told me to keep an eye open in case there was a floral emergency.”

He paused and looked at Mia. “Are you a floral emergency?”

Mia shook her head. “No, not at all.”

“Right then,”

he said with a grin. “I’ll go back to my buns.”

She kept walking, not knowing where she was going. A ridiculous part of her almost wanted to text, to ask where Luna was. But what was she even supposed to say? ‘Hey, sorry I disappeared, but I overheard something and assumed the worst, and now everything feels wrong’? No, she couldn’t do that.

It occurred to her only as she reached the end of the main street, where the shops started to peter out and there were more trees, that perhaps Luna didn’t want to be found. Perhaps Luna was avoiding her just as much as she had been avoiding Luna.

The thought wasn’t a pleasant one.

So she kept walking. Walked out into the country, let her feet carry her down the road.

What did she want?

She could call Mikey now and he’d be there within the hour, ready to take her back to her old life, she was sure of it.

Or she could stay here and be avoided by Luna, be reminded of Luna, every time she left the hotel.

How had she screwed this up so badly?

Half of her wanted to rush to Luna’s house, to find her, to hold her, to apologize. The other half still heard the words that Luna had spoken, still knew that they’d had an arrangement and she had no right to expect anything more than what she’d already had.

Maybe that was why Luna was avoiding her. Because she’d gone back on their arrangement. Because Luna had helped her with Mikey, but then she hadn’t done the same with Luna’s grandmother. Perhaps she was angry.

She just didn’t know. And the more she thought about it, the more confused and hurt she got.

THE SUN WAS setting by the time Mia walked back into the hotel, light spilling through the windows of reception. She threw herself back into work, cataloging reservations, folding linens, wiping down surfaces, Rachel watching her with a quiet eye every time she moved. But she needed to keep her mind occupied, needed to fill the void.

Not that it worked.

Every quiet moment was unbearable. Every task, every interaction, felt like going through the motions. Going through the motions of a life that just didn’t fit her anymore. Before Luna, predictability had been a comfort, routine had made her feel good. Now it all just felt suffocating and wrong.

She caught a look at her reflection in the polished surface of the reception counter. The woman staring back looked like her, but something had changed. Changed since the last time she’d given herself a good look in the mirror when she’d been wearing a full bridal gown.

The edges of this woman’s world had expanded.

Trying to shrink them back down again was impossible.

And when she went back up to her hotel room, hoping that she was exhausted enough to finally sleep, her hands reached for her phone without thinking. Her fingers unlocked it by pure muscle memory and she was a half inch away from texting Luna before she realized that she just couldn’t.

Instead, she looked at their messages. Inside jokes. Ridiculous ideas. Snapshots of stolen moments that felt so far away.

Her fingers twitched, wanting to type something, anything, to bridge the distance between them.

But she didn’t know what to say. And what if Luna didn’t want to hear from her? What if she burned all her bridges?

The phone screen dimmed and she put it away with a quiet sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe this was how things were supposed to end.

Maybe now was the time when she finally had to decide what it was that she wanted.