The One I Shouldn’t Love

The first thing Mara Vale saw when she stepped off the train was the man she had spent seven years trying to forget. Adrian Cross stood beneath the old station clock, one hand buried in the pocket of his dark coat, the other holding an umbrella. For a moment, Mara forgot how to breathe. Rain fell between them. Eight years ago, she had left Bellmere with one suitcase, a scholarship, and a heart she was too young to understand. She had promised Adrian she would return. She never did. Now, as the last passengers disappeared into the rainy evening, he remained exactly where he had been waiting. As though he had known she would come back. As though he had been waiting all this time. “Mara.” Her name sounded different in his voice. Deeper. Older. Dangerously familiar. She tightened her fingers around the handle of her suitcase. “Adrian.” His eyes moved over her face, searching for the girl who had left. “You cut your hair.” She almost laughed. “That’s what you noticed?” “No.” His answer came too quickly. Silence stretched between them. The station clock clicked loudly above their heads. 8:17. The same time she had left Bellmere. The same time she had promised she would come back. Mara looked away first. “I’m only staying for three weeks.” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “I know.” “How?” “Your grandmother told me.” Her heart sank. Of course. Grandmother had always been incapable of keeping secrets. Mara glanced toward the road. “I can get a taxi.” “I know.” He opened the umbrella. “I brought my car.” “You didn’t have to.” “I know.” There it was again. That quiet certainty. That irritating ability to make her feel as though every word between them had another meaning. Mara picked up her suitcase. “I can manage.” Adrian reached for it. “I know you can.” Before she could stop him, he took the suitcase from her. Their fingers brushed. A tiny spark passed between them. Mara immediately pulled her hand away. Adrian noticed. Of course he noticed. He had always noticed everything about her. They walked toward the parking lot without speaking. Bellmere looked exactly as she remembered and nothing like it. The narrow streets were lined with old stone houses. The harbor lights shimmered through the rain. Somewhere in the distance, waves crashed against the cliffs. And beyond everything stood the lighthouse. Mara stopped walking. The lighthouse beam swept across the dark sea. “You’re still here,” she whispered. Adrian followed her gaze. “Barely.” “What does that mean?” “The council wants to tear it down.” Mara turned sharply. “They can’t.” “They say it’s unsafe.” “It has stood for more than a hundred years.” “So have half the buildings in Bellmere.” “This one is different.” Adrian looked at her. “I know.” She suddenly remembered her grandmother’s voice. The lighthouse isn’t just a building, Mara. Some places remember people. She had thought it was an old woman’s superstition. Standing there now, she wasn’t so sure. Adrian started walking again. “You’ll see the shop tomorrow.” Mara nodded. The shop. That was why she was here. Her grandmother had died six weeks earlier, leaving Mara the Bellmere Bookshop and a house full of memories she had spent years avoiding. She intended to sell everything. The house. The shop. The past. Then she would return to the capital and continue with her life. Simple. Clean. Except Adrian was standing three feet away from her. Nothing about Bellmere felt simple anymore. ⸻ The bookshop smelled of dust, old paper, and lavender. Mara stood in the doorway the following morning, staring at the shelves. Her grandmother’s favorite chair remained beside the fireplace. A blue mug sat on the counter. A half-finished crossword puzzle lay beside it. For a moment, Mara imagined hearing her grandmother call from upstairs. Mara, darling? Stop staring and start working. She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. A floorboard creaked behind her. Mara turned. Adrian stood in the doorway carrying two cups of coffee. “You haven’t eaten.” “I haven’t been here ten minutes.” “You always forget to eat when you’re upset.” She frowned. “You remember that?” “I remember everything.” Her heart skipped. She took the coffee. “Thank you.” He leaned against the doorframe. “How long are you really staying?” “Three weeks.” “And after that?” “I’m selling the shop.” Something changed in his face. “You’re serious.” “Yes.” “This place meant everything to your grandmother.” “I know.” “Then why sell it?” “Because it doesn’t mean anything to me.” The lie came too easily. Adrian stared at her. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” Mara looked down at her coffee. “And you’ve always been too sure you know me.” “I used to.” She looked up. His expression had softened. “Maybe I don’t anymore.” The words hurt more than they should have. Before she could answer, the bell above the door rang. A man walked inside. He was tall, dressed in a charcoal coat, with a camera hanging from one shoulder. He paused just inside the doorway. His eyes moved across the shelves before settling on Mara. “Sorry,” he said. “Are you open?” Mara glanced at the clock. “Technically.” The stranger smiled. “Then I suppose technically I’m lucky.” Adrian straightened. Mara noticed the change immediately. “Can I help you?” “I hope so.” The stranger placed an old photograph on the counter. Mara looked down. Her breath caught. It was a photograph of the Bellmere lighthouse. But that wasn’t what frightened her. Standing beside the lighthouse was her grandmother. Young. Beautiful. And smiling beside a man Mara had never seen before. “Where did you get this?” she asked. The stranger’s eyes remained on her. “My father took it.” “Who was your father?” He hesitated. “Jonas Rowan.” The name meant nothing to Mara. But Adrian reacted. He went completely still. “You’re Jonas Rowan’s son?” The stranger looked at him. “You know him?” Adrian’s expression hardened. “Everyone in Bellmere knew him.” Mara looked between them. “Who was he?” Neither answered. The stranger finally turned back to her. “My name is Elias.” He pointed to the photograph. “My father took this picture thirty years ago.” Mara swallowed. “Why bring it here?” “Because I’m trying to find out what happened that night.” “What night?” Elias reached into his coat and produced another photograph. This one was darker. The lighthouse stood against a storm. A small figure was visible near the cliff. Mara leaned closer. Then she saw it. A handwritten date in the corner. The date her grandfather had died. Her stomach tightened. “My grandmother never mentioned your father.” “She didn’t mention him because she didn’t want you to know.” Adrian stepped forward. “That’s enough.” Elias looked at him. “Why?” “Because you’ve just arrived in town. You don’t know anything about Mara.” “I know enough.” Mara’s voice cut between them. “Stop.” Both men looked at her. She hated how naturally they had fallen into opposition. As if she were something to be defended. Or claimed. Elias picked up the photograph. “I’ll leave.” He turned toward the door. Then he stopped. “Mara?” She looked at him. “I’ll be at the lighthouse this evening.” “Why?” “Because there’s something there your grandmother left behind.” Adrian’s face changed. “What did you say?” Elias smiled faintly. “She knew I would come eventually.” Then he walked out. The bell above the door jingled. Silence filled the shop. Mara slowly turned toward Adrian. “What was he talking about?” Adrian didn’t answer. “Adrian.” He looked toward the window. “I think you should sell the shop and leave Bellmere.” Her heart sank. “Why?” “Because some things are better left buried.” Mara stared at him. “Is that what you told yourself when I left?” His eyes met hers. “No.” “Then what did you tell yourself?” Adrian’s voice dropped. “That if you ever came back, I’d tell you the truth.” Thunder rolled over the harbor. Mara’s pulse quickened. “What truth?” He stepped closer. For seven years, she had imagined this moment. She had imagined anger. Accusations. Perhaps even forgiveness. She had never imagined fear. Adrian reached for her hand. Then stopped. “There are things about the night you left Bellmere that you don’t remember.” Mara’s blood went cold. “What things?” Before he could answer, the lighthouse beam swept across the shop window. Once. Twice. Then darkness. Adrian looked toward the sea. Mara followed his gaze. Far away, beneath the lighthouse, a lone figure stood on the cliff. Elias. Watching them. And in that instant, Mara understood something she had not expected when she boarded the train. She had not returned to Bellmere to sell her grandmother’s bookshop. She had returned because someone had been waiting for her. And whatever secret her grandmother had buried, two men seemed determined to uncover it. One had once owned her heart. The other had just walked into her life. Neither man was telling her the whole truth. Mara looked at Adrian. “What happened the night I left?” He stared at her for a long moment. Then he whispered the words that shattered everything she thought she remembered. “You weren’t supposed to leave alone.”