Chapter 8
Lying had never been my strong suit, so the fact that I was lying to every single person I knew tore me up inside. It was only a matter of time before my fake smile faltered and the truth spilled out in an endless stream of depression.
But Rose asked for time, and there was one thing I would always do, and that was give Rose whatever she wanted.
Except that was a big fucking lie now, wasn’t it?
I didn’t believe in marriage because it destroyed my family, but now, somehow, not getting married destroyed me and Rose.
With a loud sigh, I thrust my hands through my hair and let my head fall onto the steering wheel. This nightmare of a day was finally over. I could go home and avoid anyone who made me want to spill the beans. Which was… basically everyone I loved.
Though when I pulled into my driveway, it didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt empty and lonely. Rose wasn’t in the seat beside me. She wasn’t pulling up just after me. She wasn’t on the porch steps waiting for me with that beautiful smile and bright joy in her eyes.
Jesus, I needed to get it together. Running a hand over my face, I grabbed my stuff with my other hand and got out of the car.
The gravel crunched beneath my boots, the sound louder than it should’ve been in the stillness of the evening.
The porch light was off. It always used to be on when I got home, casting that warm golden glow across the steps.
It was our unspoken signal that everything was okay.
Now, the house just sat there, quiet and dark, like it was holding its breath with me.
I kicked the door shut behind me and dropped my keys on the counter.
The sound echoed through the empty space.
My eyes caught on the bra hanging on the doorknob, and something inside me broke.
Every damn thing reminded me of her: the throw blanket she always left crumpled on the couch, the candle that had burned down to the wick but still smelled like vanilla and honey, the photo booth strip on the fridge. Us. Everywhere I looked.
“Home sweet fucking home,” I muttered under my breath.
I wanted to text her. Hell, I wanted to drive to Meadow’s and drag her back here just so I could stop feeling like my skin didn’t fit anymore. But that wasn’t what she wanted, and I’d already screwed up enough by not hearing her sooner.
Though I didn’t know how long she thought she could stay at Meadow’s before someone realized. Vine Valley wasn’t just a small town; it was the small town where everyone knew everyone and secrets did not stay hidden for long.
It was only a matter of time before Odette or Steve spotted Rose’s missing car from our driveway or noticed it parked at Meadow’s place.
It wasn’t my problem. This was Rose’s making. I wasn’t the one who wanted to keep this a secret. Hell, if it were up to me, there’d be no fucking secret because we’d still be together.
I moved to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and twisted the cap off, not even caring that it skittered across the floor. I leaned against the counter, staring at nothing.
Tomorrow we were supposed to shoot new promo photos for the Reserve launch. I had signed up weeks ago. Me, Rose, and a couple of the vineyard crew. It wouldn’t be our first photoshoot. We were the happy couple who photographed well and got tons of likes on the vineyard's social media accounts.
My stomach twisted. How the hell was I supposed to pretend we were fine? Smile for a camera when every time I thought of her, my chest felt like it was caving in?
My phone buzzed on the counter, jolting me from my thoughts. I grabbed it fast, pulse jumping when I saw her name light up the screen.
Rose: We need to talk.
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Talk could mean anything. It could be good, bad, the end, or maybe the start of something we could fix.
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard before I finally typed.
Me: Tell me when and where.
Her reply was instant.
Rose: I’ll come by your office tomorrow before the shoot.
It was short, polite, and completely distant—a far cry from our usual texts.
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed, fighting the urge to send a funny GIF.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I’d have to see her again. Pretend my world hadn’t fallen apart. Pretend I wasn’t still hers. Breakup or not, my heart hadn’t belonged to me in a very long time. It was Rose’s whether or not she wanted it.
***
My breath caught every time a noise echoed outside my office.
Rose said she’d meet me before the shoot, but I checked the time for the fifth time in twenty minutes to confirm she was late…
again. Rose wasn’t exactly punctual, but when she had something important planned, she set multiple alarms to make sure she was on time.
So where the hell was she?
I glanced at the clock once more when she appeared in the doorway like sunshine after a storm. She gave an awkward wave and stepped into my office before sitting in the chair across from me.
She looked tired. Bags lined her eyes, her skin was pale, and her hair was pulled back. “You okay?” I asked. She always did her hair and makeup for a photoshoot.
“Fine,” she said, but her throat was scratchy, tone completely unconvincing.
“Are you coming down with a cold or something?”
“Maybe. I think I just ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
“Again?” It had happened a couple of times over the last month. “Maybe you should see a doctor. Make sure it’s nothing serious.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to the floor. “It’s nothing.”
I leaned in my chair and crossed my arms. “You know your body better than me,” I said, though that was a lie.
I knew every single curve, every dimple, freckle, and scar.
I knew if she ate too much garlic, she’d get nauseous.
If she didn’t drink water all morning, she’d be shaky by noon. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Chris and Cynthia’s bachelor and bachelorette parties and Jaylen and Gwen’s wedding.”
“What about them?”
“We both already RSVPed.”
“I’m aware.”
“As a couple.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. We had the same friend group. All from college, and every single one of them seemed to be getting married, having babies, and forcing us to endure event after event.
“Do you not want to go?”
“No, I do. I just…”
Her big eyes met mine and lingered. Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
“You don’t want to tell them about—” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. The omission hung between us; silence spread like an uncomfortable humidity.
“I don’t want to take the attention away from their big day.”
“Us breaking up would be big news.”
“The biggest,” she said, but her words were barely audible.
I blew out a long breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “So what are you saying? You want to go… together?”
Her gaze flicked to the window, then back to me. “As friends,” she clarified quickly, though even she didn’t sound convinced. “Just to keep things simple. Everyone will be expecting us there, and it’s too late to change the seating chart or the room arrangements.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the tightening in my chest. “Right. Keep up appearances. Sure.”
“Wy—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in before she could finish, because if I let her keep talking, I might actually fall apart in front of her, and I wouldn’t do that. “We can fake it for a weekend. We’ve done harder things.”
Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she just nodded. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” I muttered, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a sigh. “I’m just trying not to make things worse.”
Another small, awkward silence spread across the office. She picked at the hem of her sleeve, and my eye caught the tremble of her fingers. Rose never sat still; she fidgeted, adjusted, but this… this was different. She was fighting something.
“Hey,” I said gently. “You sure you’re okay? You look pale.”
“I told you, I’m fine.” She stood too fast, steadying herself against the desk for a second. I started to get up, but she straightened and plastered on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I should probably get to the shoot. Don’t want to hold things up.”
I nodded even though everything inside me screamed that something wasn’t right. “I’ll be there soon.”
She hesitated in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame. “Thank you, Wyatt. For this. I know it’s weird, but—”
“Rose,” I whispered, cutting her off again. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
She gave a faint dip of her chin, then slipped out of the room, her vanilla and coconut scent haunting the air like a ghost after she was gone.
I sat there staring at the door, the echo of her heels fading down the hall.
As friends.
The phrase repeated in my head like a cruel joke.
She might’ve been ready to pretend we were still together for everyone else, but pretending I wasn’t still in love with her?
That was the one thing I didn’t know how to fake.
I waited a couple of minutes before I pushed from my desk and headed to the vineyard where the shoot was being set up.
Ben and Rhone carried out a table, placing it between two rows of vines.
Rose stood back, her finger tapping her lip as she let the vision come to life in her mind.
This was her method. She’d been doing it for ages, and it worked.
Every. Single. Time. There was a reason she excelled at her job.
She was a rare mix of beauty, intelligence, creativity, and whimsy. She could take a basic bottle of wine and photograph it in a way that made it look like the most coveted bottle of wine in existence.
I loved scrolling through her photo gallery after a shoot, helping her pick out the best ones, even if I insisted they were all the best picture she’d ever taken.
The memory stabbed at my gut, and I shook my head, forcing myself into the present. I never expected something so simple as looking at photos together would be something I should have cherished. Now, who would she look at those photos with?
“Of course you show up now,” Ben said. “After all the heavy shit has been moved.”
Ben had quickly become one of my favorite people. He had only been with us at the vineyard for a little over a year, and with Sherry for a few months officially, but I already looked at him like a brother. Now… I didn’t know exactly what he was to me.
Why the hell was everything so damn complicated?
Rose turned, plastered a massive smile on her face, and skipped toward me, pressing on her toes and planting a kiss on my cheek. The feel of her lips on my skin tilted my world, and I instinctively wrapped my hand around her waist, pulling her close.
Her coconut vanilla scent consumed me, and I fought the urge to nuzzle into her neck.
“You’re late!” she joked, but when her eyes met mine, the joy slipped. It was a mask. Another lie. And I didn’t know how much more I could take. This all felt like an act. Mainly because it fucking was. But the thing I couldn’t figure out was why the hell I was going along with it?
Because I love her.
The thought was fast and swift, knocking me in the gut.
Despite whatever the hell had happened between us, I loved her with every ounce of my soul. There was no time or distance that would change that, and I only hoped she felt the same way and would realize it sooner rather than later.
I couldn’t let her be the one who got away.