Going Au Naturale at Hallow’s Cove (Hallow’s Cove)

22. Sydney

Chapter twenty-two

Sydney

My hands shook as I placed all my things into my bags. It was all ruined.

Though Brooks said he wanted to talk, I knew what was left to say. How could he ever look me in my eyes again? All I saw in his the whole time was pain. Like I’d driven a knife right through his heart.

I deserved this. I should have told him I wouldn’t do it. Fuck the money. And now I’d lost the one I knew was the love of my life over it.

I had to get out of here.

Being as quiet as I could, I hopped into the car and started it up. It was quiet, unlike the loud roar I was used to with the truck. I knew the inn was likely still full, so I made my way up the mountain toward the only other place to stay in town.

Hallow Hill was pretty, with its exposed wood beams and large fireplace, but I didn’t notice much else; I just checked in and headed up to my room.

Once I was there, I flopped onto the bed and let myself fully sob for the first time tonight. I let myself mourn the love I could have had, the new life I could have had. Brooks offered me everything, and I destroyed it.

I destroyed him .

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or if I’d actually had any sleep, but when I glanced up, I could see the sky lightening with daybreak.

I went into the bathroom and ran some cold water over my face, trying to get rid of some of the puffiness under my eyes.

I looked like a wreck, and it reflected how I felt inside pretty well.

Maybe I could have fixed it by telling him I passed him anyway. He might have forgiven me, but I wasn’t sure I deserved the forgiveness. He was right. If I hadn’t fallen in love, I might have failed the farm, which meant that Brooks was just… too good for me.

Once I was done, I crawled back into bed. I clicked open my laptop and began flipping through my photos. There were so many that made me think about what I had lost. That image of Brooks right before I broke my camera, walking through the orchard, the one in the flower field, even the one I’d taken at the inn. The photos blurred as tears fled my vision.

I continued scrolling up, getting lost in my work. The photos in the city were so much less vibrant than anything I’d taken here, and I hated the idea of going back now.

I continued my mindless scrolling, working my way through folders from the past few years. As I flipped through an album I’d taken for a friend in the college quad, I paused and looked at the background.

Zooming in, I noticed a couple looking very snug. This one was slightly blurry, so I flipped through some more until I found one that showed exactly who it was, and my mouth almost dropped to the ground.

In the photo were Preston and Vanessa, kissing next to the arts building. I took a screenshot of that one before going through all of them, saving the ones where you could see them clearly.

This could be it; this could be my out. I shared all the images to my phone, then went to sleep.

I knew what I had to do now.

I rose with the sun and was in my car and down the hill just as it was starting to become visible.

At the reception desk, I pretended to be Preston’s friend from college to learn where he lived, and soon after I was pulling up to a well-manicured lawn and overly styled home. It was just as gaudy as I thought it would be. I was not surprised, though. If you needed to hide something, you needed to keep it inside a cage.

God, what a douche canoe.

I cut the engine, got out of the car, and walked to the massive black door. I put my finger on the bell and held it there, listening to the terrible shrill sound through the house.

It took five minutes before the door was flung open to an extremely disgruntled Preston.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. He was wrapped in a horrid red robe that made him look just like the rich asshole he was.

“Oh, just coming to pay a visit. Do you have a minute? Or does Gwen? I would love to speak to her.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“I just thought she might like to know about your… other activities back at the city.”

Preston’s eyes flickered with worry for a moment before returning to irritation. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My work?”

“I don’t know if I would call it work. More like an entire other life, wife and all?”

I said the last part a bit loud intentionally, and Preston stepped out of his house and shut the door. Gwen was probably inside. “Not that it’s true, but if it is, you have no proof.”

“You’re right; how would I have something like that? You’re so private,” I drawled out the o just to watch him squirm. “And that would be true if someone hadn’t been enjoying some PDA in the quad.”

I unlocked my phone and pulled up the photo. His face got even paler than before, and he tried to snatch my phone from my hand, but I was faster.

“Don’t tell me you think I don’t have copies?”

Preston righted himself and let out a loud huff. “Fine, what do you want?”

“What do you think? Leave Hoffman Farm alone.”

He quirked his brow. “Wait. All you care about is that shitty little plot of land?”

“What I care about is none of your concern,” I said. What was going on with Brooks and me was certainly none of his business. “And this is about the blackmail; you release what you have on me, and I do the same.” Though, if I was being honest, my past coming out no longer felt so vital to me. “Mutual destruction seems pretty safe, doesn’t it?”

He was clenching his jaw so hard I was sure he’d crack a tooth. I don’t think Preston had been outplayed like this many times in his life, and that made it all feel that much better.

“So, what do you say?” I asked after a few moments of silence. “Or should I go see if Gwen wants to see these photos?”

“No, we have a deal. Just get the fuck off my property.”

“As long as you stay off mine.” I hadn’t meant to call it mine—it wasn’t—though the sentiment was the same. “And I don’t want you to even breathe near Brooks. If he’s walking down the street toward you, cross it. Do you get me?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Good.”

With that, I stepped off the porch and fled to my car. When I got back in, Preston was gone, and my hands had finally stopped shaking. Though this would always be in the back of my mind, the photos were my insurance. And hopefully he would heed my words and leave Brooks alone.

With that settled, I drove back up the mountain. As much as I wanted to leave early, Matilda would ask too many questions, and I didn’t want to deal with it. So I would stay the extra few days and then go home, leaving Hallow’s Cove—and Brooks—behind.