The door banged open again as Zoe ran out. “What the hell is going on?”

His mom’s hands shook at her sides. “I need you to leave, Marsh.”

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“No. I need you to go. Now.”

“Sarah, please.” Marsh’s voice had lost its bite. He was a man suddenly faced with the loss of something that mattered to him, and Noah recognized the signs all too well. Noah almost empathized with him.

“You will not talk to my son like this anymore,” his mom said. “I should have intervened long before now. Just go.”

Marsh’s face sagged. He backed up, hands digging into his pockets for his keys. Noah, Zoe, and their mom watched silently as he climbed into his car and backed out.

“What the hell was that?” Zoe demanded, trailing behind them. “Did he seriously hit you?”

“Come inside,” his mom said, tugging on his elbow.

Noah gently shook her off. “I have to go.”

“No. Not until I look at you and you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Noah followed his mom inside and to the kitchen, where she told him to sit at one of the stools lining the island. A timer began to shriek, and Zoe jumped halfway to the ceiling.

“It’s the lasagna,” she said. “I’ll get it.”

His mom went to the sink and dampened a wad of paper towel before returning to him. She dabbed at the blood beneath his nose. “I’m okay, Mom.”

“Let me fuss over you.”

He relented and tilted his head back so she could gingerly wipe the blood.

“Have you ever been punched before?” Zoe asked from the stove.

“Not like this. No.”

“I wonder if you should go to the emergency room,” his mom said.

“I’m fine.”

“I can’t believe he hit you.” Her voice shook. “What happened?”

“Just a lot of stuff that’s been boiling for a while.”

“What kind of stuff?”

He lifted a corner of his mouth. “The kind of stuff I shouldn’t have let boil over.”

She gave him a frustrated look before returning to the sink. She tossed the bloody paper towel into the trash can and then washed her hands. But instead of turning around, she gripped the edge of the sink. “Zoe, can you leave us alone for a minute?”

Zoe snuck a glance at Noah before quickstepping out of the kitchen. He had no doubt, however, that she was hovering nearby to eavesdrop.

His mom turned around. “He’s in love with me.”

Noah felt the words like another sucker punch to the face. “He told you that?”

“Years ago. I wasn’t ready for another relationship. It felt like a betrayal of your father.”

“Are you . . . with him?”

His mom shrugged with a heavy sigh. “It’s too late for that now. It’s been too long.”

“But are you in love with him?”

“He’s been here for me in so many ways. But the way he treats you, I . . . I think that has always been what held me back. But then you seemed okay with him, so I never wanted to intervene, especially after you turned your life around. I didn’t know how much tension there really was between you.”

“I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You’re my son. Nothing about you is a burden.”

Yeah, that was some bullshit. Noah had been nothing but a burden for a good five years after his father died. He rose from the stool and walked to her. Without prompting, their arms came around each other.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice thick.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

She squeezed him around the waist. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

“I put you through hell.”

“You were going through hell.” She pulled back and gazed up at him. “But it’s all over now.” She winced as she brushed her fingers over the spot where Marsh’s fist had connected with his face. “We need to ice this.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” He set her back and leaned against the counter again. “Hungry, but fine.”

“You should have brought Alexis. Why was the surgery rescheduled?”

Noah’s breath caught in his lungs. He tried to hide his reaction, but it was too late. He couldn’t hide much from his mother.

She tilted her head, concerned. “Is everything okay with Alexis?”

“Fine,” he lied, dropping another kiss on her head.

He walked to the cupboard to take out some plates. “You can come back now, Zoe,” he called.

Zoe stumbled in as if she’d been standing by the doorway the entire time. When Noah finally left two hours later, his cheek had stopped throbbing even if the bleeding in his chest hadn’t.

He pulled into his driveway and stared at his dark house. He could back out again and drive straight to Alexis’s house and beg her to forgive him.

But he didn’t. Because she wanted space.

Noah walked inside, grabbed an unopened bottle of bourbon, and carried it to the couch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

Jessica stared at Alexis when she walked into the cavernous zoning board room as if she’d just flown in on fairy wings.

Alexis took the seat next to Jessica. “I’m here for the meeting.”

“Right. But . . . why?” Jessica looked back to the entrance of the room. “Is Noah with you? Did you decide to stop here on the way to the surgery?”

“The surgery is off. Noah is . . . not here.” Her voice caught on a swell of a goddamned emotion she wanted nothing to do with, so she swallowed it away. “So I figured I might as well come to the meeting and listen to Karen’s bullshit myself.”

Jessica gripped Alexis’s arm. “Okay, what the hell is going on? What do you mean the surgery is off? Since when? And why does ‘not here’ make it sound like you and Noah broke up?”

“I think we did.” Oh, God. The air seeped from her lungs. It still didn’t seem real. She’d gone to bed last night hoping that she’d wake up to discover it was all a bad dream. But it was real.

“Alexis, you have to give me more than that.”

“I can’t. Not right now.” Her voice shook.

Jessica squeezed her arm. “You don’t have to be here.”

“Yes, I do.” Because she had nowhere else to go. Her entire life was suddenly a drifting boat in the middle of rough seas. Every anchor she’d relied on to hold her steady for the past year was gone. Severed.

All she had was her business. So she was here.

At the front of the room, a mahogany half-moon table where the commissioners would sit faced the rest of the room. The audience section was mostly empty except for a small cluster of people who looked like city staffers and a lone blond head in the front row.

Karen.

As if she sensed Alexis’s gaze, Karen swiveled in her seat and looked back. Her eyes widened at first, obviously surprised that Alexis had decided to attend the meeting after all. But she recovered quickly with pursed lips and gave Alexis the back of her head again.

A door behind the commissioners’ table opened, and members of the board filed out balancing overstuffed binders, coffee cups, and cell phones. Nameplates in front of each chair identified the board members as they settled into their seats.

Empty seats began to fill up as more people entered the room. Alexis watched the clock and bounced her knee in time with the second hand.

Jessica took her hand. “Remember,” she said in a voice mature beyond her years. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

The chairwoman’s voice interrupted as she called the meeting to order. The first ten minutes of the meeting were devoted to normal housekeeping matters and a single item of old business left over from the previous month. Alexis began to bounce her knee again as the chairwoman called for the start of new business and recited in a bland affect the details of the complaint against ToeBeans.

“We received Ms. Carlisle’s written correspondence regarding the complaint,” the chairwoman said. “But we will also allow time for her to make a statement and answer questions, if she wishes. We’ll begin, however, with public comment. Is there anyone who wishes to address the commission on this item?”

Karen shot to her feet. “Thank you, commissioners,” she said into the microphone at the podium. “My name is Karen Murray, and I’m the owner of the Long Time Gone antiques shop, which is across the street from the ToeBeans Cat Café.”

Alexis met Jessica’s gaze, and together they shared an eye roll. Karen was using her best I’m just a concerned citizen voice.

“I was, of course, thrilled when Ms. Carlisle purchased and restored the vacant storefront for her café. I thought it was such a charming addition to our unique business district.”

Jessica nearly choked. Karen was definitely putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.

“So please understand that the concerns I address this afternoon and in my complaint are only because I wish to protect and maintain the culture we’ve worked so hard to establish in our district. Our zoning laws were adopted for a reason, and no matter how compelling the reasons, we can’t allow someone to violate those rules. There are plenty of places within more appropriate zoning designations for where Ms. Carlisle could host her yoga class and her little support groups.”

Little support groups. Alexis’s blood pressure skyrocketed at the trivialization of the important connections and healing that occurred every day in her café.

“Ms. Carlisle already received a variance to allow for cat adoptions, which I did not oppose at the time even though I feared even then that the increase in traffic would create a parking problem for other businesses. But this is just a bridge too far, I’m afraid. All I ask is that the commission follow the zoning laws and instruct Ms. Carlisle to stop using her café to save the world and stick to what she’s supposed to be doing—serving food. Thank you.”