by Nina Lane
Of course she didn’t. Because she was brave. Because she loved him.
To avoid getting into this conversation further, Evan followed his aunt into the boardroom. Luke and Adam were seated at the table, discussing the final details of the Alpine acquisition that had closed last week.
“It’s done.” Luke clamped his hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Good job, man. Really good. Even with the Singa Corporation crap, the Alpine acquisition went through without a hitch. Now we have a new inroad into the European chocolate market.”
“And more support for the cocoa bean research project,” Adam said.
For the first time in the three weeks since Hannah had walked away from him—hell, since he’d gone under anesthesia—Evan experienced a rush of pride and satisfaction. At least he’d gotten one thing right.
“The project is already generating buzz.” Luke sat beside Evan. “It’s a great idea, especially now that we have Alpine. You were right that Sugar Rush needs to be a leader in the sustainability of cocoa bean crops. Funding a large-scale research and volunteer project intended to help local farmers and crop production is a slam-dunk way to start.”
“What about the Fair Trade Foundation?” Warren asked.
Unease rippled through the room. It was a question Luke and Evan hadn’t talked much about. Not that they’d had a chance. Luke cleared his throat.
“I told Sam I was removing him as director,” he said. “I made a mistake giving it to him in the first place. Evan should always have been the one directing the program.”
Silence fell. Though it was gratifying to hear his brother admit the truth, Luke had always been right about Evan’s ability to direct the foundation to the level it required. There were things he couldn’t do, no matter how desperately he wanted to.
Like be with Hannah.
He forced the thought of her aside, knowing it would never fully go away.
“We need to change its name,” he said. “The Fair Trade Foundation is too generic. I didn’t think of this at the time, but for branding alone the name needs to be specific to Sugar Rush and cocoa bean production.”
“The Sugar Rush Cocoa Bean Team,” Julia said.
Evan and Luke exchanged glances.
“It’s truthful, but cute,” she said. “If you’re going public asking for students and volunteers, then you’d better believe you want something catchy.”
“She’s right,” Warren put in. “And I try not to say that very often.”
Julia tossed him a glower. He winked at her.
“Evan.” Julia turned back to him with a roll of her eyes. “Who wouldn’t want to be part of the Cocoa Bean Team?”
“Actually, that’s not bad,” Evan said slowly, his brain clicking into gear. “Since we want to get into the education sector, we could launch a Cocoa Bean Team program directed toward K through twelve students. Get marketing to design a fun logo, like Captain Cocoa or something, and put together activity packets and curriculum guides about fair trade and sustainability.”
“Why didn’t we think of that before?” Adam spread his arms out, his eyebrows lifting. “Of course we need to get this into the schools. That’s fucking brilliant, man. We’re a candy company. Kids love us, love our products. We need to start with them.”
“And you have an avenue through your mother’s foundation,” Warren added. “The literacy and education programs are intended to help young people develop viable skills that they can put to use. You can start there.”
They all looked toward Luke. Their older brother sat with his forehead creased and his mouth turned downward, as if he were thinking very hard.
“Dude,” Adam said. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the idea.”
“I don’t like the idea,” Luke said. “I love the idea.”
For the first time in what felt like ages, a smile cracked Evan’s face.
“Evan needs to direct the whole thing,” Adam said.
Much as he wanted to be the one in charge, Evan shook his head.
“We’ll figure something out,” Luke told him. “Talk to your doctors and—”
“No,” Evan interrupted. “Even before the research project launches, we’d still have to visit all the farms, staying to help establish infrastructures and make sure we can support the research. I can’t do that. I was stupid to think I could.”
He paused to take a breath, hearing his heart beating inside his head. Steady. Strong. His admission didn’t make him feel weak, not anymore. There was strength in acknowledging one’s limitations and finding a different way.
“I have another idea,” he said.
“Which is?”
“Adam and I can run the program together,” Evan said.
Luke and Adam looked at each other, then back at Evan.
“Together?” Adam echoed.
“I can’t go to most of the remote farms or anywhere too far from a hospital,” Evan said. “Especially now. But you can. You still wouldn’t have to work full time, only as needed. I also want to talk to European chocolatiers about getting on board and starting an annual multi-national conference. Now that we have Alpine, that shouldn’t be difficult to arrange. I’ll run the Cocoa Bean Team from here with you as the international field director.”
Silence fell. Evan’s heart beat faster. Then Julia spoke.
“As Adam so eloquently stated,” she remarked. “That’s fucking brilliant.”
“She’s right,” Warren said.
*
Saudade. A longing for a loved one who is lost to you.
Damned if he didn’t feel the meaning of that word down to his bones.
Waves crashed against the base of the rocks, a spray of salt water washing over the outcropping. The early morning November sun shone bright and clear, the sunlight dusting the crests of the white caps rippling across the water.
He walked close to the edge, squinting at the horizon as if he could imagine Hannah on the other side of the sea. Maybe he could. That was where she belonged. But much as he knew she needed to be out in the world, he hated the thought of living his life without her.
He turned, shifting his gaze to the tidepools perforating the rocks. He crouched beside one and poked gently at a sea anemone, which closed its tentacles in self-protection. Barnacles clung to the edge of the pool like little volcanoes. Kelp, sea stars, crabs, sea urchins. Rocks in which he could find heart-shaped formations.
Evan stood. Miniature universes in and of themselves, sustainable ecosystems. There were a lot of worlds in the world. But none of them had such an endless capacity for both happiness and pain as the human heart.
He rubbed his chest. Almost four weeks after his surgery, his sternum hurt only occasionally now, and he’d regained a lot of strength. It would be several more months before he was “fully” recovered, but at least he felt more like himself.
Working on the details of the Cocoa Bean Team had been an enormous help as a new project he believed in, one that was already strengthening Sugar Rush’s culture and influence. If all went as planned, next year the first team would head to Venezuela to start working with a farmers’ collective on research and education.
He walked back to the beach, passing the spot where he’d grabbed Hannah when a wave had crashed into her. The fear that had gripped him was still a sharp, vivid memory, the unimaginable notion of losing her like a black, endless pit.
And though he’d lost her in another way, at least he knew she was living the life she was meant to live.
That’s not how she sees it.
That’s how it is.
He walked back to his bungalow, passing the kitchen table that was scattered with pieces of wood and whittling tools. He spent every evening whittling. He thought of his father, who used model airplanes and boats to escape his pain. Evan didn’t want to live the same way, but he couldn’t see any way out.
He showered, and changed into a suit and tie before driving to Sugar Rush. He parked next to Luke’s Porsche—his brother planned to stay i
n Indigo Bay for another few days—and went up to his seventh floor office. A sharp knock on the door signaled his executive assistant’s entrance.
“Mr. Stone, I compiled binders of all the Alpine documentation for the transition meeting.” Kate approached with an armload of thick, three-ring binders. “They’re color-coded according to subject, and each one includes a flash drive containing the digital files.”
“Impressive.” Evan stood to take the heavy binders from her.
Kate opened one and showed him the Table of Contents and organization of the files. Evan had hoped Luke wouldn’t want Kate back as an assistant, but his brother had already sent him several reminders that Kate was only working for him “temporarily” and that she’d return to the duties of her position as “executive assistant to CEO Luke Stone” as soon as he returned from Paris.
Maybe Evan could wrangle his brother to let her work on the Cocoa Bean Team. She’d whip that program right into shape with her spreadsheets and interactive calendaring. Not to mention her uncanny ability to anticipate the needs of executives before they did.
The office door banged open. Kate and Evan both turned. Luke stalked into the room, his expression tense and his phone clutched in his hand. Julia was at his heels, looking worried.
“Where did Hannah go?” Luke asked.
“Hannah?” Evan’s heart started beating too fast. He swung his gaze from his brother to his aunt. “What do you mean?”
“Where did she go?” Luke repeated, urgency edging his voice. “Polly can’t reach her. During their last phone call, Hannah told her she was going to Italy.”
“Yeah.” Evan tried to suppress a rising apprehension. “She’d mentioned going to the Apennine mountains, maybe Assisi. I don’t know if she did. I haven’t been in touch with her. Polly can’t reach her?”
“Not since the earthquake.”
The fear broke through, seeping into his veins like ice. “Earthquake?”
“Six point three.” Julia strode to the TV in the corner of the room and turned on a news channel. “Centered in Perugia. Reports of extensive damage.”
Curses blistered Evan’s brain. The TV screen flashed with horrific images—piles of rubble from destroyed buildings, flashing lights of rescue vehicles, downed power lines, people out in the streets, shell-shocked and scared.
She wasn’t there. She couldn’t be there.
He grabbed his phone and called her number. Voicemail picked up.
“She’s not answering,” Luke said, his brow furrowing. “She hasn’t called Polly or anyone else we can think of. No sign of her on social media.”
Evan’s heart hammered. “How long has it been?”
“We heard about it an hour ago. The quake was three hours ago.”
Heavy silence descended. Evan stared at the news. A gut-wrenching helplessness gripped him.
“Try texting her rather than calling.” Kate hurried to the door. “Texts are more likely to go through. I’ll contact the Red Cross and the Department of State to find out what other measures we can take.”
After she left, Evan and Luke both returned to their phones.
“Is Polly okay?” Evan asked his brother.
“She’s scared.” Luke frowned at his phone. “She spent so many years not even knowing where Hannah was, but since Hannah left Rainsville they’ve called or texted a few times a day. It’s not like Hannah not to respond right away.”
Evan sank into a chair, hating the fear clawing through him, the knife-blade uncertainty of not knowing if the woman he loved was all right.
The woman he loved. His jaw tightened. He’d pushed her away because of the uncertainty she’d have to live with by loving him. He’d suppressed the knowledge that anything could happen to her too.
He felt Julia sit beside him. She settled her hand on his knee.
“There’s not much chance that she’s there,” she said.
“‘Not much’ doesn’t mean no chance.” Evan scrolled through his phone again, his shoulders tense. “People get hurt all the time. Everywhere.”
“Yes, they do. But that doesn’t stop us from living.”
Her voice carried an echo of grief. Evan knew she was thinking about his mother and the aftermath of the accident. They’d all dealt with it in such different ways—Julia and Luke went into action, Adam left town, Warren turned toward Hailey, Spencer focused on work, Tyler got into trouble. Evan retreated to the sidelines.
He’d wanted to prove himself at Sugar Rush, but not until Hannah had he known that he also wanted to prove himself at life.
By not giving him and Hannah a chance, had he failed?
He stared at the text screen on his phone, willing her name to appear.
Luke’s voice rumbled through the room as he spoke to Polly again. When he ended the call, he looked at Evan and shook his head.
Evan shoved to his feet and went to his desk, needing to do something. Luke had the same idea because he pulled a chair up beside Evan and reached for the desk phone.
“Dad alerted the Sugar Rush disaster relief team, and they’re getting supplies and medical kits over there. They’re going to see what they can find out from the ground.”
Evan scoured disaster relief websites, social media, traveler message boards and forums. He had no other contact info for Hannah—no friends or fellow travelers. He didn’t even know how to reach her friend Dave. He checked her blog, which had last been updated a week ago with a post about Prague.
“Can we track her cell?” he asked.
“No signal.”
If she was okay, she’d call Polly.
He texted again. R U OK?
No response.
The next two hours passed in a blur—futile attempts to get through to government agencies and disaster relief organizations, endless attempts to call and text, all while the aftermath of the earthquake and rescue efforts played across the TV screen.
Evan’s phone buzzed. So did Luke’s and Julia’s phones. His heart stuttered. The three of them swiped the screens. A forwarded text message from Hannah came from Polly’s number.
Polliwog, if you heard about the quake, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Back in Florence from Assisi, where I couldn’t get a signal. Then left my bag w/phone on a train, was gone when I went back. Using a borrowed phone, no intl connection. Will call you as soon as I can. I’m fine. Heading out of Italy. Love you.
An overwhelming relief swamped Evan in a wave, weakening his knees. She was fine.
“Thank God,” Julia breathed.
Evan scrubbed his hands over his face. He suddenly felt everything—the beating of his heart, the rush of breath through his lungs, the blood flowing through his veins. He was awake. Alive.
Luke’s hand settled on his shoulder.
“Okay?” he asked.
Evan nodded. “Thanks.”
His brother moved away from him, and after a short discussion about sending disaster relief aid from Sugar Rush, he and Julia left him alone.
Evan looked at the screen on his phone. He typed in the original number of Hannah’s text and slowly wrote the words Come back.
His finger hovered over the send button. Then he deleted the message and typed Stay safe.
He sent the text, even though he didn’t know if she’d get it on the borrowed phone. He turned to toss several folders into his briefcase. The brown-paper wrapped package was still there, unopened.
Evan picked it up. After carrying it around for almost a month, a sudden urgency flooded him. He tore off the paper wrapping in a haste. Inside was a square, handmade scrapbook with a drawn picture of a heart on the front.
He opened it to a photo of cotton candy. Only after staring at it for a second did he realize it was the photo Hannah had taken of him at the boardwalk, after he’d pointed out the cotton candy had formed the shape of a heart.
He looked through the rest of the photos. The book was filled with images Hannah had taken of heart-shaped objects. A knot in a piece of weathered wood. A
wine stain on a glass. A leaf, a rock, a sugar cookie. A fried egg, a padlock on a bridge, a piece of Sugar Rush candy. The last picture was a self-portrait of her—smiling into the camera with her hands and fingers creating a heart.
Evan closed the book. For thirty-one years, he’d believed his heart wasn’t whole enough to give away, that he couldn’t trust it. And then from the moment their hands touched, Hannah had proven him wrong. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
She had made him complete, healed him, enforced his urge to live with every fiber of his being. He had always belonged to her, just as she belonged to him.
He had to tell her that. He had to hope she still wanted both him and his whole heart.
Chapter
TWENTY-SEVEN
Fernwah. The feeling of missing a place she’d never been.
Was there a word for missing a person she’d never met? If so, that was what Hannah had felt all those years before she met Evan. All her escaping and running away had concealed the void inside her, the one into which Evan fit so perfectly. All the loneliness and fear she’d denied, the search for belonging… everything had led her back to a town she hadn’t liked. A place where she’d felt acute loss.
And there Evan was. The answer to her unasked question.
Stay safe.
For him, she would. Because even now, she couldn’t rid herself of the hope that she would one day find her way back to him. How else could she explain why every single circumstance and choice she’d made had brought their two lives together? As if her locked heart had been seeking his damaged heart all along.
After leaving Rainsville, she’d boarded a plane to Tokyo, where the neon-lit skyscrapers and jam-packed marketplaces failed to enthrall her as they always had before. In fact, nothing about travel held the same appeal.
Now, the best part of being away were the calls, texts, and emails she exchanged several times a day with Polly—sometimes quick sentences about what they were doing, sometimes longer discussions about the holidays or Polly’s plan to meet Hannah somewhere during a break from her courses. The new connection to her sister was a bright, shining thread through Hannah’s days.