The Last Frost

But then he stepped back, his hand falling to his side. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “I shouldn’t—”

Susannah shook her head, her cheeks burning. “No, it’s—I’m—”

She didn’t know what to say, how to finish that sentence. Her mind was a whirl of confusion, of guilt and longing and fear.

The rain continued to fall, a steady drumbeat on the roof of the shed. Inside, the air was thick with unspoken words, with the weight of what had almost happened.

Susannah pulled Robb’s jacket tighter around her shoulders, grateful for its warmth, its reminder of his kindness. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, that a line had been crossed.

She risked a glance at Robb, found him watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch. His eyes were dark with emotion, his jaw tight.

Susannah looked away, her heart pounding. She focused on the sound of the rain, on the drip of water from the eaves. Anything to avoid the terrifying intimacy of the moment.

They stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, the tension between them a living, breathing thing. Until finally, the rain began to ease, the drumming on the roof slowing to a steady patter.

Robb cleared his throat. “I think it’s letting up,” he said, his voice carefully neutral.

Susannah nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him, careful not to let her fingers brush his.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.

Robb took the jacket, his eyes meeting hers for a fleeting moment. “Anytime,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

They gathered their things in silence, the ease of their earlier companionship gone, replaced by a new, unfamiliar tension. When they stepped out of the shed, the air was cool and fresh, the allotment glistening under the weak, emerging sun.

Susannah hesitated, unsure of what to say, of where they went from here. Robb seemed equally at a loss, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“I should go,” Susannah said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.

Robb nodded. “Me too.” He paused, then added, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Susannah hesitated, torn between the desire to retreat to the safety of her solitude and the pull of the connection between them. “I’ll be here,” she said at last.

Robb smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good.”

They parted ways, Susannah heading for home, Robb for his car. As she walked, Susannah’s mind was a whirl of confusion. What had happened in the shed? What had almost happened?

She touched her cheek, where Robb’s fingers had brushed her skin. The memory of his touch sent a shiver through her, a mix of fear and longing.

She had felt something in that moment, something she hadn’t felt in years. A spark. A connection. A terrifying, exhilarating pull towards another human being.

But with that pull came guilt, a wave of it so strong it nearly knocked her off her feet. Guilt for feeling something for someone who wasn’t Arthur. Guilt for wanting something more than the quiet, solitary life she had built for herself.

What was she doing? What was she allowing to happen?

She didn’t have the answers. All she knew was that something had changed, that the ground beneath her feet had shifted. And she had no idea where it would lead.

As the days passed, Susannah found herself increasingly torn. The connection she felt with Robb was undeniable, a bright spot in her otherwise solitary life. But with that connection came a gnawing guilt, a sense that she was betraying Arthur’s memory.

She tried to keep her distance, to maintain a polite but detached demeanor when they worked side by side at the allotment. But Robb’s warmth, his easy smile, his genuine interest in her life, chipped away at her defenses.

One afternoon, after a particularly long and satisfying day of gardening, Robb paused as they packed up their tools.

“Susannah,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes hopeful. “Would you like to come over for a cup of tea? My place is just around the corner. I’ve got some of that peppermint you like.”

Susannah hesitated, torn between the desire to accept and the urge to flee. “I don’t know,” she said. “I should really get home…”

“Please,” Robb said, his voice soft. “I’d love the company.”

Susannah looked at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, and found herself nodding. “Alright,” she said. “Just for a little while.”

Robb’s face lit up with a smile. “Great. This way.”

He led her to a small, tidy house just a few streets away from the allotment. Inside, the air was warm and inviting, the decor modern but comfortable.

“Make yourself at home,” Robb said, gesturing to the living room. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

Susannah settled onto the couch, her eyes drifting over the bookshelves that lined the walls. She could hear Robb moving around in the kitchen, the clink of mugs, the sound of the kettle beginning to whistle.

A few minutes later, he emerged with two steaming mugs. “Peppermint, as promised,” he said, handing her one.

Susannah took the mug, wrapping her hands around its warmth. “Thank you.”

Robb settled beside her on the couch, a respectable distance away. “I’m glad you came,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to reciprocate your hospitality.”

Susannah smiled. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Robb said. “But I wanted to.” He took a sip of his tea, his eyes meeting hers over the rim of the mug. “I enjoy spending time with you, Susannah. You’re… easy to be with.”

Susannah felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “I enjoy spending time with you too,” she admitted softly.

They talked for a while, their conversation meandering from gardening to books to the small, everyday details of their lives. Susannah found herself relaxing, the tension of the past few days easing in the warmth of Robb’s company.

But then her gaze fell on a framed photograph on the bookshelf. A photo of her and Arthur, smiling and happy, taken on a long-ago vacation. A wave of guilt washed over her, so strong it nearly took her breath away.

What was she doing here, in another man’s home, drinking tea and sharing confidences? What would Arthur think, if he could see her now?

She set her mug down abruptly, the tea suddenly bitter on her tongue. “I should go,” she said, standing up quickly.

Robb looked up, startled. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” Susannah said, forcing a smile. “I just… I have things to do at home.”

Robb stood as well, his brow furrowed with concern. “Did I say something wrong?”

Susannah shook her head, avoiding his eyes. “No, of course not. I just… I need to go.”

She practically fled the house, her heart pounding, her thoughts a tangled mess. She barely registered Robb’s confused goodbye, the concern in his eyes as he watched her go.

She walked home quickly, her arms wrapped around herself as if to hold herself together. Inside, she leaned against the door, her breath coming in short gasps.

What was happening to her? What was she allowing to happen?

She moved through her quiet house, the familiar rooms suddenly feeling alien, accusing. Everywhere she looked, she saw reminders of Arthur, of the life they had shared. The life she was now betraying with her growing feelings for Robb.

She sank onto the couch, her head in her hands. Tears pricked at her eyes, a lump forming in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” she whispered to the empty room. “I’m so sorry.”

But even as she spoke the words, she knew it wasn’t that simple. Her feelings for Robb weren’t a switch she could flip off, no matter how much guilt they caused her.

She sat there for a long time, lost in her thoughts, in her grief and her confusion. And deep down, beneath the guilt and the fear, a small, persistent voice whispered: You deserve to be happy, Susannah. You deserve to live.

But was that true? Did she deserve happiness, after everything? Or was this new connection, this fragile, frightening thing she had found with Robb, just another mistake in a long line of mistakes?

She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was lost, adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. And she had no idea which way to swim.

The next few days were a blur of confusion and guilt for Susannah. She avoided the allotment, unable to face Robb, unable to reconcile the warring emotions inside her. Her garden, once a source of solace, now felt like a reminder of her betrayal, of the feelings she couldn’t control.

Finally, unable to bear the silence of her own thoughts any longer, she called her oldest friend, Margaret. They met at a small café downtown, the air rich with the scent of coffee and baked goods.