As he turned on his heel and stalked away, the sound of his boots on the concrete echoed in the ensuing silence.

Angi gave Mariella a moment before turning back to her. The blonde still looked like she’d just been sucker punched in the gut, but her eyes were clear of tears. “How can he be here?” she asked, her voice just as miserable as it had been earlier. “I left my past mistakes behind.”

“No,” Angi said, shaking her head. “You can never really run from the past, hon, even in those fancy heels you like to wear. If you don’t deal with things, the past lives inside you, which is almost as damaging as having it come for you outright.”

Mariella dashed a hand across her cheeks, as if she could still feel the tears there. “I’m not sure anything could be worse than the thought of having to see Alex on the regular.”

The sound of a truck engine had them both looking toward the edge of the parking lot. Gabe drove in, pulling a trailer loaded with supplies for the stage. Angi could see Cam in the passenger seat. The local furniture maker had offered to help on the construction end of things.

She glanced at Mariella. “If you need some time, we can handle this without you. I can get things in the basic locations, then you can come back when—”

“I’m here now.” Mariella took a deep breath as she stared at the far end of the space, where Alex had disappeared. “I might not want to deal with Alex, but he’s not going to chase me away. Not yet.”

Angi reached out an arm and hugged Mariella to her. “Never, if I have anything to say about it.”

“You’re better at this friend thing than I would have thought,” Mariella told her with a muffled laugh.

“I like you as a friend more than I would have guessed,” Angi answered with a wink.

Mariella flashed a smile, which felt like a victory, and they headed toward the front of the building together.

GABE WALKED INTO the flower shop that afternoon and heard the telltale sound of grunting and smacks against the punching bag he’d hung in the back. He exchanged a glance with Maybelle, the young woman he’d hired to help run the shop when he couldn’t be there.

“I told the kid he should wait until you came back,” she said by way of an explanation.

“And yet...”

“He’s stubborn for such a little squirt.” Maybelle held up a printed order form. “Good news, though. I’ve got another stack of orders. This vintage Christmas thing you’ve got going is a hit.”

Gabe smiled as warmth infused him. He thought about how his grandmother would react when he told her, and his smile grew. Until he heard a guttural yell from the back room. An older couple, browsing for gifts in the corner, gave him an alarmed stare.

“All good,” he said. “He’s rehearsing for the Christmas pageant and those are some voice exercises.”