"I need to talk to Mary."

"Sorry?" Mary's father stared at Simon like he had two heads.

They were in the hallway, almost at the front door, when Simon stepped in front of her, interrupting their progress. Mary's heart leapt at the look of fear swimming in his baby blue eyes. "Dad, Hunter. I'll only be a moment."

Finn jumped in. "You can show me this fancy electric car of yours, Hunter." Then turned to her father. "I hear you're thinking of buying one as well."

Her father, easily distracted by shiny things and spending money, perked up. "Yes, Hunter, let me drive his baby the other day and the car handles like it's on rails."

As the three men headed out the door, Emily shooed Simon and Mary into the study, closing the door after them. Mary turned to find Simon pacing the room. "You can't leave."

"I have to. I'm..." Mary looked at the closed door. "needed."

"You're needed here." Simon stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers. "Emily. Emily's still weak, you have to take care of her."

Mary tugged her hand out of reach, afraid his touch might crush her resolve. "You saw her at dinner. She ate well. Emily's past the worst of it."

Simon's face fell. "How can you take that chance?"

"She has Finn. And you." Simon shook his head, and she searched for another reason to pry herself from this house, from him. "Besides. I think it'd be better for you and your brother if I wasn't here for a while."

"How can you say that? Finn's coming around—"

Mary chuckled. "Simon, you had to see the way he glared at me at dinner. He wants me out of his house, out of his hair." Out of his life. But Mary didn't say that to his brother.

"No, he's just..."

"As pissed at me as he's ever been. And I don't blame him." Simon's mouth fell open. "No really. Besides lying to him and my sister to separate them, he blames me for manipulating you into following my plan."

This time when Simon reached for her hand, he grasped it tightly, sending a warmth up Mary's arms. "You didn't make me do anything. I understood your reasons. What you said made sense. I decided I didn't want my brother bulldozed by your family."

Mary admired his attempt to take some of the guilt. But the deceit originated with her and she should take the brunt of the pain. "My reasons, your good intentions, they don't matter. We were wrong. We ruined your brother's and my sister's lives because of me. Finn will never forgive me."

"He will. My brother has much more love and forgiveness in his heart than you think."

"No, not for me. It was my error and I have to pay for it."

"Mary, you have to stop blaming yourself." He squeezed her hand. "You're allowed to make mistakes You don't have to be perfect."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Perfect was exactly what was expected of her. Why couldn't he understand that? But then, life was simple for Simon. Living a simple life in Bridgetown where the biggest problems revolved around drunk tourists and a lack of decent sushi. He couldn't possibly comprehend the pressures of living in Washington where the rent was high, and the expectations were even higher. He didn't have the drive to make it in the big city, to stand out among the crowd, to make a difference. After all, he hadn't even tried to make his dream of owning a restaurant in New York come true.

Mary ripped her hands from his. "What do you know about my life?"

His eyebrows knitted together, and his voice protested. "I know you." He moved forward. "Last night we—"

"Had fun."

"No, don't do this," Simon pleaded.

Mary turned from him, walked towards the built-in bookshelves. This had to end. New York had been a dream, and she had to get back to reality. Simon was a player, bedding his bar groupies, but not interested in settling down and making a life. Their arrangement worked because they didn't know each other beyond the bedroom.

If Simon knew the real her, he'd get bored, find her pretentious. Or worse, despise her. She didn't think she could take Simon souring toward her, eventually dumping her for someone more carefree and spontaneous like him.

Never mind the fact he had no plans for the future beyond managing a small-town restaurant in a resort town on the outskirts of nowhere. She couldn't possibly live here, with no art, no sushi, no excitement. She'd grow bitter and that would drive Simon away faster.

No, they couldn't be less alike.

As she'd sat at the dinner table, two things became obvious. First, Finn despised her. Throughout the meal, he'd taken every chance to put Mary in her place. Weeks ago, on the couch before her, Emily had promised a path to forgiveness, but now Mary was convinced that path didn't exist. She'd never be able to bridge the divide between Simon's brother and her, they were doomed forever to be enemies.

The second thing that crystalized as the steaks disappeared and the apple pie was demolished was Hunter was her path forward. The politician sparkled during the meal, dazzling her father, amusing Finn and pandering in the best way possible to Emily. Hunter had a brilliant future, not in local politics, but on the world stage. Mary ran her fingers across the colourful spines of the tomes on her sister's bookshelf. Hunter would be someone, a person people would write books about.

Hunter was truly her future. Simon had to be her past.

Mary turned from the stacks of books, squared her shoulders, and decided her future. Keeping all emotion from her voice, she snipped at the bond between them. "There's nothing to do, Simon. I have to go back to Washington. My life is there."

"You could stay here."

"In Bridgetown?" She scoffed. "That's not the life for me."

"Why not?"

"Don't do this Simon. Don't pretend I'm something I'm not. We've always been honest about our... interactions. Let's not spoil that now."

Simon rubbed at his temple with his left hand. "No Mary. Don't deny us."

A knock interrupted Mary's objection. Her father didn't wait, opening the door. "Mary, we're waiting."

Not looking back at Simon, Mary tried to make every effort to resist running from the room. As she followed her father through the foyer, Mary thought she heard Simon say, "Don't go." She kept walking.

Cold September evening air cooled her flushed cheeks as she bolted toward Hunter's car. Emily stood with her arm around Finn's waist, leaning on him as Mary passed by. She turned from the sight and scrambled into the passenger's seat without even a word to her sister to avoid Finn. Mary stared straight ahead while her father climbed into the backseat and Hunter settled behind the steering wheel.

Try as she might, Mary couldn't resist looking in the sideview mirror as they pulled out of the driveway. Simon stood beside his brother, shrinking as they sped away until Hunter pulled out of the driveway and Simon disappeared from view.

Hunter reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. "Your sister is lovely. Finn didn't talk much about her when we served together, but we all knew he held a candle for her."

"Yes, she inspires loyalty."

"His brother doesn't seem anything like my friend."

Her father leaned forward in his seat. "Simon and Finn are very different. Finn went out into the world and made something of himself. Simon content to stay in this small town."

"We all have our own path." Hunter turned onto the main road and pointed his next words at Mary. "I didn't know you and Simon were so close."

"We're not." Not anymore, at least.

"But you've known him for years, right?"

What was Hunter getting at? Mary wasn't in the mood for the third degree. She supposed she owed Hunter an explanation but didn't relish the idea of having this conversation with her father listening in the back seat. "I think he moved to Bridgetown a year before Finn."

"And you bumped into him in New York last night?"

"Yes. The weather turned, and I decided to stay over. Simon happened to be in the same hotel." Avoiding meeting Hunter's gaze, Mary took in her reflection in the car window, the hard lines of her face, her hair wound into a tight bun. The polar opposite of the woman she saw last night in the glass of Simon's hotel room after they got caught in the rain. Then she'd been wild and free. A different person.

"What are the odds, you both being in the same place at the same time?"

Mary shrugged. What could she say to that? Luckily, her father shifted the line of questions. "What did Simon want?"

"Simon wants Sophie to help cater an event." It was a blatant lie, not her first of the night.