A Side of Faith, Hope and Love: The Sandwich Romance Novella Collection

by Krista Phillips

  He restrained the smile that threatened. She wouldn't see it as humorous, but his wife had always hated everything to do with numbers. He’d been the one to pay the bills and worry about money. It was one of those little quirks about her that had annoyed him at times but also made her uniquely Tilly. He’d paid the taxes all these years for that reason. He figured if he didn’t, they wouldn’t get paid, and they’d lose the house. It seemed the least he could do. “Go check the deed they sent you. It has both our names on it.”

  She shook her head, her hands gripping the side of the counter, her knuckles white. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t move back in here just like that. I’m not going to live with you, Adam. You had to know that.”

  He stood and crossed his arms over his chest, determination overriding his decision to take this slowly. “Fine. Then move out, and I’ll take a turn living here.” As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he regretted them. He would never actually kick her out of her home. But he was banking on the idea that she wouldn’t consider leaving.

  Her blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Her hand lifted to her chest. “Excuse me? You expect me to move?”

  No. He prayed with every bit of his heart she wouldn’t. “You’ve lived here for sixteen years while I’ve taken care of the taxes and paid for my own housing. It’s only fair that I get the next sixteen.”

  Fire burned in her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Panic alarms roared in his brain, shouting at him to retreat. But he’d already gone this far. “I would. You’re more than welcome to live here with me, though. Separate bedrooms, of course.”

  She squared her shoulders and pointed a finger to his chest. “I can't believe you'd do this to me. You’re still a jerk, you know that?”

  No, he wasn’t. But it’d take time to change her mind. As long as he had that time, she could call him as many names as she wanted. “I can live with that. I’ll stay in the hotel for the rest of the week, but then I’ll expect to—”

  She stood to her full height, hands propped on her hips. “I hope you get hit by a bus on your way back to the hotel.”

  Adam believed that about as much as he believed his own fake threat. Tilly had always been the kindest soul he knew. Ignoring the jab, he whistled. “You’ve gotten a little violent since I saw you last.”

  She charged off toward the stairs, her hips swaying as she went, but whirled around in the doorway. “A lot of things have changed since you last saw me.”

  He winked. “You know, you might want to buy some pajamas before I get back, too.”

  He bit back a laugh as her eyes widened and she marched up the stairs. The PJ remark probably hadn’t helped his cause, but he hadn’t been able to resist.

  Still, he was on a mission. One that was probably crazy and doomed to fail. But when one faces death and survives, the important things in life tend to rise to the surface.

  For him? The only thing that bobbed above water was the face of the woman he’d never stopped loving.

  His Tilly.

  Four

  I have to go in.

  Tilly gripped her hands on the steering wheel.

  Hiding out in her car in the parking lot wasn't going to make everyone’s questions go away. If anything, it’d make them talk more about the crazy boss lady sitting in her car for an hour.

  But what would she say to them? She'd thought about how she was going to respond the whole drive over here, but she didn't know the answers either.

  All she knew is that she'd gone from single to married in less than twenty-four hours, without the benefit of a wedding or the desire to even be married.

  Her heart was so twisted with conflicting emotions that she didn't know up from over.

  Opening the door, she uncurled her long legs and stepped out, letting the cold November breeze tickle her cheeks. All around her, brown and red leaves scattered the ground, fallen and dead. Only a handful still hung on the tree, clinging to the last threads of life.

  She could relate.

  Which was sad. Forty shouldn’t be the fall of her life. It should be summer, right?

  It was all Adam’s fault. He’d waltzed back in and brought a hard freeze to her world.

  Straightening her back and shoulders, she pretended her life wasn’t tilting dangerously on its side and walked into the Emporium, hoping word hadn’t spread far.

  Her hopes were dashed as the door closed behind her and all gazes swung to her as if she were magnetic.

  Just as quickly, the wait staff all continued with their work. Pretending nothing was different.

  Except it was. And hiding that helped no one.

  She was about to step on a chair and announce to everyone that yes, she was married, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could stuff it, but Reuben peeked his head out of his office and motioned her to follow him.

  It was probably a good thing, because knowing her luck, she’d have fallen from the chair and broken a hip or something.

  Closing the door behind her, she plopped down into one of his office chairs. “I suppose you want to talk about Adam.”

  He sat forward, elbows on the desk, hands clutched in front of him. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Tilly blinked, willing tears to hold off until she got home tonight. How could anyone be okay under the circumstances? “Honestly? No, I’m not. But at the moment, there’s not a thing you or I can do to change it. So my goal is to get through today as fast as possible.”

  “I had to demand Maddie to stay home this morning, you know.”

  Tilly’s mouth tilted upward a smidge. “Bet that went over well.”

  He smiled, looking a little more tired than normal himself. “I already threw a few blankets and a pillow on the couch for tonight, let’s leave it at that. But I won’t be able to keep her at bay for long.”

  She’d have to face Maddie someday. And honestly, while the girl was a pistol, she was also a godly woman who gave pretty good advice when push came to shove, even if shoving described how she gave it to you. “Thanks. I’ll go see her, I promise.”

  Reuben glanced at his watch and stood. “Lunch crowd will start soon, so I won’t keep you. But seriously, Tilly. If you need anything, let us know. Even if you just need someone to show him to the door.”

  She smirked. “Unfortunately, my door is also his door. Otherwise I might take you up on that.”

  His brow creased in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought your mom…”

  Tilly shook her head. “It’s a long story. I—”

  Reuben’s office phone rang. He held up a finger and picked it up. “The Sandwich Emporium, Reuben speaking.”

  Only half listening to her boss’s side of the conversation, she walked around his office. It’d changed a lot in the last few years. All the cheap motivational posters were gone, replaced by decor Maddie and Allie had found at the flea market and various garage sales. Reuben claimed his office had been “sissified” but really, it looked up-to-date and professional. They’d done a great job.

  Seeing that his conversation wasn’t going to be a short one, she motioned to the door, letting him know she was leaving.

  He gave a thumbs up and a wink in return.

  Letting herself out, she set her shoulders straight and put on her best customer service smile. She needed to get through this day. Then she could go home, sit in peace and quiet, and figure out how she was going to get rid of her husband.

  She walked toward the hostess stand. “Lanie, everything going okay so far?”

  The petite blonde dressed in the customary all-black attire nodded. “Sure is. You do have someone waiting to talk to you. He’s in the booth in the back corner.”

  A customer complaint already? That didn’t bode well. Rarely did someone ask for her just to give out compliments. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yup, I just seated him, and he asked to see you when you had a second.”

  Odd. Tilly approached, only the tip of dark hair peering over the
top of the booth.

  But then he turned and smiled at her.

  Her stomach went sour at the sight.

  Adam.

  She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  He motioned to the seat across from him. “Do you have a second?”

  “I’m working.”

  “It’s important and will only take a minute.”

  She glanced around. The dining area was only half full, and all staff was present and accounted for. Sliding into the booth, she straightened her shoulders. Maybe she’d be lucky. Maybe he’d changed his mind. “Fine. But you have five minutes, tops.”

  He took a sip of his water. “My lodging situation as changed.”

  Thank you, Jesus. “Oh, really?” She tried to be nonchalant, but her voice was bathed in relief, even to her own ears.

  “Did you hear about the hotel?”

  “The hotel? What about it?”

  “There was a fire this morning.”

  Oh no. No. No. No. “A fire? Is everyone alright?”

  “Yes. Someone decided to smoke in their room and caught their bedspread on fire. Everyone got out, but there’s a lot of smoke damage. The hotel is closed until they can make repairs.”

  “So—what does this have to do with me?” Please, Jesus. Please, please, please don’t let him say what I think he’s going to say.

  “You know it’s the only hotel in town, Tilly. I, uh, I need to move in sooner than later. Like—today.”

  She sat back, her head resting against the booth, her heart punching against her ribs in protest. How was this possible? How could, in the course of twenty-four hours, her life be totally, utterly turned upside down?

  She could say no. But then what? Was he supposed to sleep in the streets? And the house was his. He had every right.

  She could go stay with Beth for a while. Her friend had texted a little while ago, asking how she could help. It was an option.

  Not a good option, though.

  It’d just be running from a problem.

  And Tilly wasn’t a fan of running. She liked to stay put more often than not. “I—I’m not ready. I mean, I don’t have a bedroom ready for you.”

  “I can sleep on the couch. I have my own furniture coming this weekend. We can figure out what to keep and what to sell then.”

  Sell? Her furniture? Panic constricted her throat and the room swirled. She inhaled and closed her eyes, willing the dizziness to pass. The vice finally released its hold on her vocal chords. “You’re not selling my furniture, Adam.”

  The side of his mouth curled into a smile—the smile that used to make her melt. “I didn’t say we were. But you have to admit. Most of it is about ten years past its worn-out date. You might want to replace it with some of mine. But it’ll be up to you. I would like my own bedroom set, though.”

  Bedroom—

  Bed.

  Her cheeks flushed at the thought. What would he say if he knew she still slept in their bed? She’d told herself hundreds of times to replace it. To get rid of the memories.

  But she couldn’t.

  Just like the rest of it. They were familiar and solid. Comfortable. They were hers. She couldn’t part with her treasured things about as much as she couldn’t part with a limb on her body.

  Adam knew that. He was one of the few who knew why too.

  She glanced at her watch, desperate for an excuse to get away. “I have to get back to work. Let me give you a key—”

  “I have one. I mean, unless you changed the locks. Your mom sent me a key when she sent the paperwork.”

  Of course she did. “No, I haven’t. It should still work.”

  “Great. Then I’ll head over now and get settled in.”

  They both stood up from the booth, their eyes catching. Adam looked down for a moment, then took a step forward, but Tilly scooted back. “One thing you need to get straight now, Adam. This”—she motioned between them—“is not going to happen. You may have a claim to my house and a piece of paper that links us together, but that’s it. This is a temporary solution until we figure out what to do. But we’re not going to be a couple again. Hands off, okay?”

  Adam cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the room, then back to hers. “I wasn’t going to—”

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “I wanted to tell you—” He stepped forward again, but she sidestepped him.

  What was he trying to do, hug her? Didn’t he realize this was not the place? That there never would be a place in their lives for that anymore? “Adam, seriously. Goodbye. We’ll talk tonight.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head and turned to walk away, but he was too fast. She gasped as he put a hand around her waist and pulled her into a hug, his lips next to her ear, warm breath on her face, sending shocks of heat down her body.

  His hushed whisper tickled her ear. “I know you don’t want me here, but I thought you might want to know that you put your pants on inside out this morning. Goodbye, Till.”

  With that, he released her, spun around, and strode through the dining area and out the door.

  She slid her hands down her sides to feel the hem of her pants, her face burning.

  Sure enough, her fingers met the rough, stringy seams of the inside of her dress slacks.

  ***

  Adam put the key into the back door and turned the knob, feeling very much like an intruder.

  The back porch met him as he entered. The washer and dryer, broom closet, a pair of garden shoes neatly sitting by the door. A trash can— He did a double take, then lifted a pair of high heels out of the can.

  He smiled. Totally Tilly. She’d never been a fan of heels. He set them back, hoping she’d change her mind before trash day and keep them.

  Rolling his suitcase behind him, he wove his way through the kitchen to the dining room and opened the door that led to the upstairs.

  He smiled at the impossibly steep stairs. The older house held a lot of charm, and these stairs were part of it. Tilly had always told stories about how she’d slid down them as a kid. They’d even done so in tandem one time for kicks.

  She’d said it hurt a lot more as an adult.

  His bruised rear end had agreed.

  He was relegated to the couch tonight, but might as well put his luggage in one of the spare bedrooms.

  He lugged the suitcase up the steps, stopping by the first bedroom.

  Longing grabbed hold of him with a death grip and refused to release.

  It was Tilly’s room, as evidenced by clothes littering the floor and tossed on the back of a chair. She never had been a big neat freak when it came to private spaces.

  But it was the bed—their bed—that made his stomach fill with such regret that it physically hurt. He’d know it anywhere. The wrought-iron headboard had been a thrift store find. It’d been one of the only non-temporary pieces of furniture in their little duplex house.

  How could she sleep in their bed, all these years?

  He’d assumed she’d gotten rid of it. Had been sure of it.

  Never, in a million years, would he have guessed she still used it.

  Maybe she’d gotten a new mattress. Surely she’d gotten a new one. Eighteen years was a long time—granted it’d been new at the time, a wedding gift from her mom.

  And their quilt. The one her mom had surprised them with on their wedding day. It lay on the bed, disturbed on one side where Tilly had obviously slept.

  He dropped his bag and walked in, his steps purposeful.

  He should respect her privacy. This was her room, and he had no right anymore, regardless of their marriage certificate.

  But something drove him to the point he couldn’t resist.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, the creaking of the springs giving evidence that this probably was their original mattress. He closed his eyes. “God, this wasn’t supposed to go like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.”

  But when had God ever said do
ing the right thing was easy?

  Never. That’s when.

  It'd taken laying in a hospital bed on the oncology floor at the very hospital he'd been a resident in for him to finally face the fact that he’d been running for years. Even before he and Tilly had gotten married.

  He’d never been satisfied with life. More. He’d needed more than just Tilly. More than Sandwich. More than a life filled with the same old thing. He’d wanted to live life to the fullest, not settle for less.

  None of that was bad, in and of itself. But what he’d gotten was more of a lot of things at the cost of the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world.

  His wife.

  And his faith.

  But God had redeemed him. He’d taken hold of him and shown him all he’d given up. Made him see the value of what he’d traded for his wife.

  It wasn’t worth it. Not by a long shot.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out and checked the caller ID.

  He sagged with relief at Dave’s name, the pastor who had finally been the one to speak truth into his life when he needed it the most. The exact guy he needed to talk to right now.

  “Hey, Dave.”

  “Adam. How’s it going?”

  Ignoring his conscience, he laid his head on Tilly’s pillow and lifted his legs onto the bed. Just for a moment— “It depends on how you look at it. I crashed her surprise birthday party last night on accident. Scared the daylights out of her this morning. My hotel caught on fire. But now I’m moving in early, so I guess that’s a bright spot.”

  “Uh, wow. Wait, your hotel caught on fire?”

  “Not my fault.”

  “Good. That would’ve been bad. But you’re moving in already? I thought you were going to suggest it and see her reaction.”

  That had been the plan. Before his mouth ran off from him. “I, uh, may have deviated a little.”

  “How much is a little?”

  Adam glanced around the room—the room he should not be in right now. “I kind of told her she could move out if she didn’t like it. That it’s my house too. And I may have told her I’m moving in today right before I mentioned that she’d put her pants on inside out.”