It Happened on Maple Street

“He’s coming over to say hi.”

She nodded. “I gathered.” There was no judgment in her gaze. Concern, but no judgment.

As I went up to my room to change clothes and fix my hair, I imagined Tim walking up to my front door, lifting me up against that chest that made me feel so safe, so secure, putting me in his car and driving me away to a place where I could wipe out the past three months, the past two years, and go back to being Tim’s girl.

But I knew, even as I lived in my imaginary world, that my fantasy could never happen. Some things just couldn’t be undone.

He was a mess. Excited to see Tara again, and betraying Emily because she didn’t know about the meeting with Tara. She’d disapprove for sure.

Driving in Huber Heights, he was filled with a sense of familiarity. He’d made the drive so many times before—during the happiest time of his life. He saw his road a block away, turned left, and followed it to Drywood.

He was in Huber Heights to see his Baby. No, that was the past. He was there to say hello and get on with the rest of his life.

Wasn’t he?

Could he see Tara again, knowing he loved her, and say nothing?

He pulled the car in the driveway and sat for a moment, nervous as hell, trying to regain his composure.

I was watching for him. The Le Mans pulled into my driveway exactly twenty minutes after we’d hung up. Tim’s car. His face behind the wheel. They were so familiar. So right. Like coming home. He got out of the car, and I choked up with tears.

I couldn’t be this way. I was going to be another man’s wife. Had to be another man’s wife. Tim wouldn’t have me if he knew what James had done. No man would.

What man would call a woman his own after another man had known her in such a . . . personal . . . way?

Stopping short of the front door, I waited for Tim to ring the bell. Even if a miracle had happened and he wanted us to get back together, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be with him. He’d find out what had happened. And he wouldn’t want me anymore.

And I didn’t want sex. Ever again.

I might look the same on the surface, but I’d changed. In the deepest way possible.

And Tim wasn’t going to know that. Ever.

I couldn’t have him, but we could have our memories. I could have our memories to hold in my heart for as long as I lived, as long as he still saw me as the girl he’d known.

I opened the front door with a big smile on my face—and tears in my heart.

There she stood, his Tara, wearing three-quarter-length green khaki pants with a yellow polo top, her blonde hair, blue eyes, and her girlish smile greeting him. She looked exactly the same. And yet, something was different about this girl. The smile wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.

She invited him in, and he stepped by her into the house he’d spent so many hours in—and that felt different, too. Like he was an intruder.

He’d been selfish thinking of only what he wanted and needed. Something was wrong.

This wasn’t his Tara. There was a disconnect between them. Something that hadn’t been there even when they’d had that disastrous meeting at Christmas the year before.

She’d tried to tell him he shouldn’t stop by.

An awkward tension fell between them as they stood there, saying nothing.

Was it because she was nervous about him being there when she was engaged to another man?

“When’s the wedding?”

She shrugged. “Two years. Or so. He has to finish school.”

Had their love been snuffed out by her new man? Had the guy given her the conversation that she so desperately needed?

But that didn’t feel right, either. Something else was wrong. Something out of place. Her expression was old. Mature.