7. Leyland

Leyland

She can’t be happy with him.

I knew a happy and content Clementine. Even in the face of losing a patient, she never looked how she had that day. And it stuck with me after Duke got discharged with a wrist fracture that might require a cast later; he’d be down for a few weeks, though, while it healed.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Duke asked as I settled into my truck.

He’d called just as I was leaving home, knowing my schedule like the back of his hand.

“I’m cleared to drive, unlike you, whose dominant hand is in a splint,” I said, hitting the lift master fob to open the garage. “You’re bored, I know. But, I’m good.”

Duke sighed, and I fought not to laugh.

“I have a few virtual meetings later anyway,” he mumbled, voice perking up right after as he moved the conversation along. “Do you remember that gallery owner we met in New York last year?”

We’d met a few, but two stood out.

“Nova or Amina?”

While Nova White-Brooks was a sculptor and had later opened a gallery to showcase more black indie artists, Amina Black-Edwards simply loved art and opened her gallery to immerse herself in the culture. They were both passionate about what they did and left a lasting impression on Duke and me.

“Nova,” he confirmed. “Her team reached out, wanting to procure a few originals from you to display. I’m meeting with her today to gather more details.”

I tapped the steering wheel at a red light, gaze zeroed in on the little cafe Clementine liked to go to.

“Mmhm,” I hummed, switching lanes as the light turned green. “Let me know how it goes. I’m still feeling a little off, but hoping everything is back to normal after I finish my gala pieces.”

He was silent for a moment, and I could almost hear his thoughts.

“The guys said they’ve been calling and texting you. I was their last resort.”

“I’m not ignoring them on purpose…”I pulled into a parking spot at the front of Jasper’s Cafe and stared at the door, my heart pulling me to go inside.“But I’ll try to be better with my phone,” I went on, grabbing the keys from the ignition. “Duke, I gotta go. Call me after your meeting with Nova.”

Before he could question me, I hung up and got out.

It wasn’t my first time here since being discharged, but today felt different for reasons I couldn’t explain.

As I pushed the door open, that familiar scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries enveloped me. Their cozy atmosphere and the cinnamon rolls were the reason Clementine frequented as much as she had in my dreams. When I’d made Duke bring me here my first week out, he’d been confused, but part of me had hoped to see her.

Like today…

My eyes scanned the room, searching for her like I had the first time.

And unlike before, there she was sitting alone at a corner table, her dark eyes focused intently on a book—more than likely a medical journal. A cup of something, coffee with hazelnut creamer if I knew her like I thought, sat untouched at her elbow. Even in the soft lighting of the cafe, I could see the tension in her shoulders, the slight furrow between her brows.

Should I approach her? Or would it be better to leave her in peace? But before I could decide, she looked up and our eyes met.

For a moment, we just stared at each other across the room. Then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Taking that as an invitation, I made my way over to her table.

As I approached, I could see her straighten slightly, closing her book and setting it aside.

“Clementine,” I greeted her softly. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

She shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “Not at all, Mr. Grah—Leyland. Please, have a seat.”

I slid into the other side of the booth.

Up close, I noticed the dark circles under her eyes; she looked exhausted.

“Rough night?” I asked gently.

“Not really…” she waved her hand. “I’m fine. Just catching up on some reading on my day off.”

I nodded, not believing her “fine” for a second, but choosing to keep the conversation light.

“This place has the best cinnamon rolls,” I said, gesturing towards the counter. “Have you tried them?”

A flicker of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a small smile. “Actually, yes. They’re my favorite.”

It was such a small thing, but it felt significant—a connection to the Clementine I knew in my dreams.

“Mine too. Though I have to limit myself. My sweet tooth can get out of control if I’m not careful.”

She laughed softly; the sound making my chest tighten.

“How have you been?” she asked, pulling the cup of coffee toward her. “Taking it easy, I hope.”

I smiled.

“Doing my best. I have headaches every now and then, but nothing too bad.”

She looked relieved and for so many reasons, I enjoyed seeing it.

“That’s good to hear. And your friend? How’s his wrist? He should see the specialist I suggested.”

“DJ’s doing alright,” I replied with a nod. “He saw the specialist and is following their recovery plan. He’s not thrilled about being sidelined, but he’s managing. Thanks for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Wrist injuries can be tricky, especially for active people.”

She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced.

“Cold?” I asked, pretending not to notice the engagement ring glimmering on her finger.

“Yeah…” she sighed. “I got distracted reading and forgot about it.”

Without thinking, I stood.

“Let me get you a fresh one. What are you drinking?”

She looked up at me, surprise evident in her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Consider it a thank you for taking such good care of me and DJ.”

Clementine hesitated for a moment, then relented.

“Alright. Thank you. It’s an Americano with hazelnut creamer.”

I smiled, knowing I had guessed correctly about her coffee preference.

“Coming right up.”

As I waited in line at the counter, I couldn’t help but glance back at Clementine. She had reopened her book, but I noticed her eyes weren’t moving across the page. Instead, she seemed lost in thought, her gaze unfocused.

When I returned with her fresh Americano and a cinnamon roll for each of us, her eyes lit up.

“You didn’t have to get the pastries,” she said, but I could see the pleased smile tugging at her lips.

“I couldn’t resist,” I told her, sliding back into my seat. “Besides, what’s coffee without something sweet to go with it?”

She laughed softly, and the sound warmed me from the inside out.

“You make a compelling argument.”

As we sipped our coffee, a comfortable silence settled between us. I watched as Clementine savored her first bite of the cinnamon roll, eyes closing briefly in enjoyment. It was such a familiar gesture, everything she did made me feel dizzy with déjà vu.

“Can I ask you something?” she blurted, catching me off guard a little but my response was immediate.

“You can ask me anything at any time and I’ll reply,” I murmured softly. “What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated for a moment, fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup.

“When you said we had a beautiful life…” Her dark eyes met mine and every emotion she seemed to have danced in them. “How so? Like… What made it beautiful to you?”

I took a deep breath, my heart thumping at her unexpected question.

Did she really want to know? Or would she run when it got too intense to handle?

“It was beautiful in its simplicity,” I began softly, choosing my words carefully. “We had a life full of small, perfect moments. Like lazy Sunday mornings where we’d make cinnamon pancakes together, or nights where we’d sit on our deck and stargaze.”

She bit her lip and remained silent; it encouraged me to continue.

“We supported each other’s passions. You’d attend all my gallery showings, and I’d bring you coffee during your long hospital shifts. We’d have picnics in Zilker Park, arguing over which book to read aloud to each other. Dance in the kitchen while making dinner…” I paused, knowing if I continued she would get scared again. “Long story short, it was the culmination of small things that made us work.”

“It sounds...” she searched for the right word with her eyes downcast. “Idyllic.”

I nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. “It wasn’t perfect. We had our arguments, our rough patches. But we always found our way back to each other.”

Like now… in an entirely different lifetime.

She looked up at me then, her dark eyes searching mine. “And in this life... we were happy?”

The vulnerability in her voice made my chest ache. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, to tell her that yes, we were deliriously happy. Instead, I nodded slowly.

“We were,” I whispered. “It wasn’t always easy, like I said, but we were happy. We understood each other in a way that I’ve never experienced with anyone else.”

Her eyes remained locked on mine, and I could see a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. For a moment, it seemed like she wanted to say something more, but then she glanced down at her engagement ring and the spell was broken.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not fair to you, or to... to James.”

The mention of her fiancé felt like a bucket of cold water. I leaned back in my chair, trying to put some distance between us.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone into so much detail. I know it has to be strange to hear.”

“It is strange,” she admitted. “But also... fascinating, in a way.”

I could see her slipping back into doctor mode, trying to rationalize what I’d told her. Part of me wanted to shake Clementine, make her see that what I felt was real. But I knew that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

“Yeah,” I said instead, forcing a small smile. “The brain is pretty amazing.”

When she nodded and glanced at her watch, I knew our conversation was over.

“I should probably get going,” she said, confirming my thoughts. “There’s a whole life to live outside this cafe.”

I sat unmoved, watching as she packed her things.

“I’m glad you’re doing okay…” She slid from the booth, gaze avoiding mine. “Maybe we’ll see one another again.”

Clementine went to walk away, and I reached out for her, wrapping my fingers gently around her wrist. I waited patiently for those eyes I’d fallen in love with to meet mine and when they did, I knew I had to ask the question on my heart.

“Are you happy, Clementine?”