“Careful, your maturity is showing.”

Cooper laughed softly, but his amusement fled at the continued knocking on his door.

“Cooper!” Dana shrieked now.

He winced at the sound. Seriously, what had he seen in her?

“Cooper! Open up!”

“Well, that’s enough of that,” a familiar voice admonished.

Iris.

Cooper tensed.

Iris and Ira owned the Italian pizzeria next to Paradise Sands. They’d opened it twenty-five years back and named it Antonio’s because they reckoned no one wanted Italian food from “Iris and Ira.”

Iris and Ira were like family to him.

“Iris, this isn’t your damn business,” Dana snapped.

“Cooper is like a son to me so it is my business. You’ve done enough damage here. You are not going to harass that boy. Now go away. You are not wanted.”

“I need to talk to him. Cooper!”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you, by the looks of it, so get going. Get going before I call the cops.”

“Stay out of it, you nosy bitch.”

Enough was enough. His blood turned hot as he marched across the room. No way was he going to continue hiding in his own bar, and no way in hell would he stand by and let her talk to Iris like that.

He shoved open the door and Dana skittered back as it caught her elbow.

“Cooper.”

“Don’t you ever fucking talk to Iris like that again. You hear me?”

She licked her lips nervously, a gesture she thought got to him. “Coop, please. I just really need to talk to you.”

“About what, Dana? About us getting back together? Are you out of your mind?”

“Cooper, if you just forgive me—”

“It’s not about that anymore. I don’t want you. I see you now. And I’m so grateful I’m free of you. You get that? I don’t want you.”

Tears spilled down cheeks he’d once found pretty and she let out a harsh sob before pushing past Iris. She half marched, half ran down the boardwalk in her four-inch high heels and Cooper was pissed off all over again because he could feel a twinge of guilt in his chest.

“Crocodile tears.”

He looked back at Iris, who was staring at him sternly.

“Don’t you feel guilty for anything, Cooper Lawson. Everything that woman does is a manipulation.”

The reminder eased his guilt somewhat and he stepped forward to press a kiss on Iris’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Her eyes were bright when she smiled up at him. “Always here, you know that.”

“Back at you. Say good morning to Ira for me.” He pushed open the bar door.

“Will do. See you later.”

Cooper walked through his empty pub, trying to will the tension out of his muscles. He took a beer out of one of the fridges and sat down at a table.

Thirty-six years old. Thirty-six goddamn years old. Just a little over ten years of those he’d spent with Dana. Ten years of his life gone. Thirty-six and divorced. A crazy ex-wife. No kids. No dad. No mom.

But he had his sister.

He had his nephew.

He looked around the pub.

He had his bar.

And he had friends on the boardwalk and they were like family.

If it felt like something was missing from his life, then Cooper guessed that just made him ungrateful.

Or maybe just human.

Finishing his beer, Cooper let all the crap of the morning disappear as Crosby came in to prep for the lunch service, and as he opened the bar it started filling up. The tourist season hadn’t quite hit yet, but his place was never empty. He had his regulars, and as those people filled his bar, the emptiness left him for a while and the tension eased.

FIVE

Jessica

The two-hour drive to Hartwell had taken it out of me, but that wasn’t surprising. I suspected my singular focus on my work had kept my body going for as long as it had. As soon as I’d decided on Hartwell for my vacation I’d felt myself growing more tired, as if just the thought of vacation had caused my mind and body to go, Hey, thanks a lot; we’ve only been waiting forever for you to notice we’re fucked.

Two weeks I had to wait for vacation and it had felt like the longest two weeks of my life. Stress could be underlying. Sometimes you didn’t even realize you were as stressed as you were. I should have known that. And as a doctor I should have been taking better care of myself mentally and physically.

Now was my chance.

I was at once kind of excited to take some time out, and also to see the town where Sarah had grown up, but also scared that all this vacation was going to do was prove that I didn’t like the life I was living.

God, I hoped that wasn’t true.

Those worries drifted away, however, when I began to smell the salt of the sea through the window I had rolled down. The closer my GPS took me to my destination, the stronger the ocean smell grew as I drove through the town of Hartwell. I seemed to be driving through the center—it was all shops, restaurants, and parking lots. The GPS turned me west and that took me into a residential area that was interspersed with a few restaurants. I drove slowly down the dark, tree-lined streets, my headlights catching on the white-clad homes with their brightly colored awnings and old-fashioned porches that reminded me a little of the neighborhood where I’d grown up. The smell of the sea got stronger and when my GPS announced I had reached my destination I swung into a nearby parking lot, my headlights catching on a sign that stated For Hart’s Inn Guests Only, and relief moved through me that for once my GPS really had led me to my destination.