Carla Cassidy - A Gift from the Past

“The spare bedroom is made up,” she finally said, knowing that she was being selfish in not wanting him here. Sarge would enjoy his company and that should be all that was important. Surely she could handle his presence here for a few days as long as he didn’t intend to talk about the past.

“I’ve got some things to do this afternoon. Why don’t I come back here with my things after dinner, say about seven.”

“That will be fine,” she replied, weary resignation sweeping through her.

He turned to leave, but paused and turned back to face her. “Claire, it is good to see you again.” He didn’t wait for her to reply, but instead turned once again and left, walking briskly down the sidewalk.

She sank down on the steps, watching until he was out of sight.

Joshua.

He’d been a teenager from the wrong side of the tracks, raised by an alcoholic uncle and she’d been the sheriff’s granddaughter. They’d been fifteen when he’d first asked her out and on that very first date she fell hopelessly, helplessly in love with him.

She’d spent the last five years of her existence trying to forget him and everything that had happened in that last year of their marriage.

She stood and brushed off the seat of her pants, hoping he didn’t intend to stay too long. One thing was certain, while he was here, she would keep her distance, both physically and emotionally.

She couldn’t go back to that place in time, couldn’t dwell in ancient memories. She feared that if she did, she would lose her mind to the grief and never surface again.

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