Chapter Eight #2
Willa went back to decorating, hoping the steady rhythm of pinning up paper leaves and wrangling crooked garlands would quiet the sting still buzzing in her chest. She opened another box, this one marked for the Thanksgiving display tied to the Mooncatcher legend.
Inside were cardboard turkey cutouts, each one pinned with faded photos of couples who had supposedly found their soulmates right here at the Seaglass. There were handwritten names, some first names only, some with little hearts drawn next to the dates.
Willa sifted through them, grumbling under her breath. “Most of these couples probably aren’t even together anymore.”
Delia walked over, still twirling the turkey leg like she might use it as a pointer. “But they are,” she said, her voice light but sure. “I keep tabs on that sort of thing.”
Willa gave her a skeptical look, but Delia was already pointing to one of the turkey cutouts near the top of the stack. The photo showed a couple sitting close on a bench outside the Seaglass, both of them laughing, the woman’s hand resting on the man’s knee.
“Emily and Ryan. Married eleven years now. Five kids.” Delia smiled. “They still come through every summer. Same table by the window. Still order the same drinks.”
Willa looked at the photo a little longer, her chest tightening in a way she didn’t like.
“Not everyone’s doomed, Willa,” Delia said gently. “Some people actually get the happy ending.”
Just as Delia handed Willa the giant plastic turkey leg, another knock sounded at the door.
“Round two,” Delia said, clearly amused. “Think it’s Brent again? Want me to handle it?”
Willa scowled, gripping the turkey leg with one hand as she marched to the door. She was still wearing the crooked rhinestone turkey tiara, not that she cared.
When she yanked the door open, she found Eden standing there, all bright smiles and friendly waves like they were old friends.
“Hey, Willa,” Eden said, her tone sugary sweet. “Can we declare a truce?”
Willa didn’t move, didn’t smile. She raised the turkey leg just a little. “Let me guess. You want to impress Lark and Sawyer. They’re vlogging about you now, right? You want me to rewrite the past and pretend you didn’t cheat with my fiancé.”
Eden’s smile didn’t budge. “No rewriting. Say whatever you want to Lark and Sawyer. Really.”
She clasped her hands in front of her like she was here on some polite neighborly visit. “I only want a personal truce between you and me.”
Willa stared at her for a long beat, her grip tightening around the turkey leg. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh, slam the door, or swing the leg right at Eden’s smug little grin.
Eden’s voice stayed light, but her words slid in sharp. “I just think it’s best if you know where things stand. I’m renewing my relationship with Cal. Picking up where we left off.”
Willa’s stomach twisted, but she kept her face as blank as she could manage.
Eden kept going, like she was reciting a love story she had already decided would have a happy ending. “We were in love, you know. Real love. And I think we can have that again. I don’t want you standing in the way of that.”
The words landed like small blows, each one hammering against Willa’s ribs, but she refused to flinch. She wouldn’t give Eden the satisfaction of seeing her break.
She opened her mouth, searching for something easy to say, something polite and distant. She tried to push out a lie. Something like I wish you both the best.
But the lie stuck in her throat.
She couldn’t say it.
Instead, Willa calmly, quietly shut the door in Eden’s face. She turned and walked back to the bar, her steps slow, her chest hollow. Her mother was waiting, arms open without saying a word.
Willa stepped into her mother’s arms, let the turkey leg fall to the floor, and sank into the comfort she didn’t want to admit she needed.
Delia finally loosened her hold and brushed Willa’s hair off her shoulder.
“You need to go upstairs and take a bubble bath. One of the good ones with the fancy lavender stuff. You’ve had enough of people showing up uninvited today.”
Willa snorted, but the idea of locking herself away from all this sounded better by the second.
“Yeah,” Willa said, pulling away gently. “A bath sounds good. I’ll make sure I don’t get my toe stuck this time.”
Delia gave her a look. “Probably smart.”
Willa grabbed her phone and made her way up the stairs, the quiet settling around her like a welcome shield. She tried not to think about Cal. About Eden’s words. About anything, really.
But her phone buzzed as she reached the landing. It was from Fia.
Someone just sent me this. It’s already on the internet.
Figuring it was more footage of Edgar, the seagull being an asshole, Willa clicked on the short video clip. Grainy, shaky, but the image was clear enough. Not Edgar. Human.
It was her. And Cal. Kissing in his window. Whoever filmed it had done it from the street.
Her stomach twisted. Panic bubbled up fast and sharp. She didn’t think. She just moved. Her feet carried her to his door, the door she had been avoiding like the plague for days. She knocked hard, still clutching her phone.
When he answered, Cal looked completely caught off guard. His shirt hung open, his jeans slung low on his hips, as if he’d just rolled out of his chair after working at his laptop.
His gaze flicked to the crooked tiara still perched on her head, and his mouth curved into a grin. “Well,” he said, his voice warm, “this is a good surprise. It’s really good to see you.”
Willa didn’t bother with pleasantries.
She shoved her phone toward him. “Fia just sent this to me. Someone filmed us and posted it on the internet.”
Cal took the phone from her, his brow pulling tight as he hit play.
The video was shaky and grainy, but there was no mistaking what it showed. Him. Willa. That kiss in the window. Too long. Too heated. Too public.
He watched in silence, his jaw tensing, his fingers tightening around the phone.
When the clip ended, he let out a slow breath. His eyes lifted to hers, steady, sharp.
“Well,” he said, voice low, “guess we’re not exactly subtle.”
Willa’s heart pounded in her chest. She waited for him to panic, to pull away, to start talking about damage control.
But he just handed her the phone back and said, “Come in. And let’s get this figured out.”