39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
E mma
I mentally recite words of affirmation as I walk away from Declan and try to imagine some stuff Tate would say.
Good job Emma. You’re finally all grown up. You're strong and resilient and you deserve a happy, openly loving relationship.
You did the right thing for everyone involved and sometime in the future, you’re going to thank yourself for what you did.
But not right now. Because right now, I feel like ripping my heart out of my chest and just laying down somewhere to rot away.
This hurts, like hell.
When I broke up with Xavier, I was heartbroken too, but my anger at his betrayal mitigated the hurt. Still, at the time, I thought it was the worst thing ever.
But it’s nothing compared to this pain.
Especially, since I know that neither Declan nor I did anything wrong.
Declan was honest with me from the beginning and even though I lied to myself that we could hook up without me falling in love with him, I tried to be as honest as possible with Declan too. We were both as fair to each other as we can be. So there is no anger to mitigate the pain of losing him.
And the worst part is that it’s not even a breakup because we weren’t dating in the first place.
In a way, I broke my own heart.
Plus, I’m still going to have to be around Declan one way or another. I don’t plan on severing my relationship with Amelia, and I’m still going to fulfill all my obligations at the Pink Hotel.
Plus, I’ll still need to pay back Declan for his financial help with my Grandpa. I don’t think watching Amelia is enough payment. That was effortless. I’ll need to find another way to give him something of value for saving my Grandpa’s life.
At least, while Declan is still in town we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, so there’s no way to avoid it.
I wonder if I’m going to feel this pain all over again every time I see him.
"Don't cry Emma," I whisper into the chilly air. "Just get back to work and do your best. Then when you go home, you can cry your heart out."
I try to distract myself most of the day. After going to see Amelia (who is working hard with Sandy to figure out her math homework) I head to the Tiki Bar. It's largely empty, apart from two regulars who don't want drinks.
Carly is there too, and my presence feels very much unneeded, so I take the opportunity to leave and go down to the construction site, distantly aware of Cross boarding the bus with me.
At the construction site, I avoid Declan as much as possible. There doesn't seem to be much to do, so the men spend most of the time shooting the shit and eating sandwiches, as they arrange the late shipment of wood.
"There’s been another delay," Robbie says, munching on his sandwich as we sit on the wooden floor of the hallway. Even though it hasn't been necessarily cleaned, the human activity has breathed new life into the hotel and removed the stale, dead scent of an abandoned building. Now it just smells like broken wood, and males moving through space. The sounds also don't echo as much anymore.
"The plumber was supposed to start but he couldn't make it. He's sick."
"With what?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Who knows? The boss is probably furious though. He stormed out of here like hell was on his heels."
"Oh." I didn't see Declan leave but I can just imagine his frustration. It feels like everything that can go wrong is.
"Are you okay?" Robbie asks. "You look down."
"Oh." I look away, waving a hand. "I'm fine. Just bummed out that we don't seem to be making much progress."
"Don’t worry. I’m sure your boyfriend will figure it out." Robbie drags out the 'boyfriend' word teasingly like he would do in high school whenever he picked on me.
"He’s not my boyfriend," I say.
"Yeah right. That’s why he almost took my head off for talking with you."
I recall the incident that feels like it happened so long ago.
I don’t get jealous , Declan said. But it sure felt like Declan was jealous about seeing me with Robbie.
And he was definitely jealous when I hugged Xavier.
Yet the satisfaction from that knowledge is short-lived because I know that possessiveness and love are two different things. Declan might be possessive over me, but he certainly doesn't love me.
Xavier was possessive over me too, but that didn’t stop him from cheating on me.
Just once, I want a nice, not-toxic love story with a man who truly loves me.
I want to be someone’s first choice, and I want them to choose me and only me. Is that too much to ask?
"Well whatever we were, we’re not anymore," I say firmly, more to myself than to Robbie.
"What happened?" he asks with a mouthful of bread and ham.
I sigh. "Well..."
"Oh wait, I forgot. I don’t actually care."
Robbie winks and then laughs aloud when I shove his shoulder.
"You know I forgot how annoying you used to be," I say.
"And I forgot how easy it was to get on your nerves."
I hit him again.
Since there’s nothing else to do at work, I decide to head home. Rick went fishing with Grandpa this morning. But he might need to work soon, and I don't want Grandpa to be alone.
The scent of freshly caught fish greets me when I open the door. Rick and Grandpa are both on opposite couches with Remy lying peacefully on the ground between them. Rick in the process of standing up.
"Right on time, kiddo," he says. "You must have good senses."
"Right on time for what?"
"I have to head over somewhere," he says. "Emergency and all that. So can you babysit your Gramps while I’m gone?"
"I’m eighty years old. I don’t need a damn babysitter," Grandpa frowns deeply, but he doesn't quite pull off the attempt to be severe.
"Yeah, yeah." Rick rolls his eyes at me, and I giggle.
He brushes his hand over my shoulder in greeting as he walks out. I walk in and collapse into the chair he vacated. Remy instantly turns over for me to rub his belly.
I oblige as my Grandpa's angry expression fades.
"What’s wrong kiddo?"
I cock my head. "Why do you think something is wrong?"
"Because you're clearly down about something. Come on, tell your Grandpa what it is."
On one hand, I don't really want to talk about it but at the same time, I want to share the burden pressing down on me. I feel like I'm going to snap into two if I don't talk about it.
"Declan and I broke up," I finally admit.
My Grandpa's eyes go wide. He remains silent for a few seconds, the air tainted with his confusion. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't know you two were together."
I nod. "We weren't, at least not officially. Declan doesn't do relationships. And he told me about this already." I shrug not knowing what else to say.
"But you still fell in love with him," Grandpa concludes quietly.
I open my mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out. The tears I fought so hard against are pushing behind my eyelids.
Grandpa leans over and takes my hand. Then he gets up, moving to the chair closer to me.
"Grandpa you don't have to–"
"Heck I have to move sometime," he says. "I can't just sit over there when my little girl has her heart broken."
I shoot him a watery smile and sniffle as I duck my head. "Thanks, Grandpa."
The tears finally start rolling down my cheek and I look away, considering the view through our window instead.
Grandpa doesn't say anything to acknowledge my crying, simply squeezing my hand in comfort. It's one of the few times we've sat together in silence, enjoying the low sound of the televisions mixing with the outside chirps of the cicadas.
Remy eventually sits on his haunches, with his paws in my lap. He whines and licks my face.
"You know what this reminds me of?" Grandpa says quietly.
"What?"
"Madam Thornley's diary. You know her fiancée didn't seem like a romantic man at first. He was very cold and dismissive of the town, and all its inhabitants. Kinda like your Declan. But in the diary at some point, he started believing in our lores, in the magic of the Pink Pearl, and most importantly, started believing in love. Madam T brought the romantic out in him, I suppose."
"Did he ever actually tell you that though?" I ask.
Grandpa shakes his head. "No. Outwardly he was still as cold as ever, and still didn't talk to us much. But at least to her, in private, he probably treated her a lot better." He smiles sadly. "Things aren't always as they seem, and anyone can change at any point, even without warning. Just something to think about."
I'm not really sure what he's getting at, but I swallow and nod.
"Anyway, I'll go make us some tea," Grandpa rises and then waves me down when I try to get up too. "It's the kind of night for it."
Later that evening, with Grandpa's hot chocolate on my bedside table, I prepare to tuck in and read more of the journal.
I leave my windows open to allow a breeze, and I spot Cross, sitting in a car a little up the street. I feel a little bad, but Cross insisted on staying there even after I offered to bring him inside.
"Just in case there's an intruder, I don't want him to see me coming," he said.
Grandpa hasn't asked any questions yet about the car up the street and the man inside, but it's only a matter of time before he notices something is odd.
I need to figure out what to tell him by then.
But until then, I let Madam Thornley and V weave me into their wonderful love story, trying to forget the disaster that became mine.
My Dearest Madam,
I'm sorry for all the lies and the deceit. I'm not a man prone admitting the truth of my feelings, for I've lived so long in the shadows.
But know this. You have always been the light of my life.
Finding you has been better than striking ivory.
And I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me for our–
Hold on a second.
I jerk up in bed, as the memory of my grandfather's words drifts through my mind like a leaf floating in the wind.
Striking ivory. I’ve heard that before. When Grandpa was talking about overhearing the thieves talking in their room.
It was two men arguing. One of them was saying that they had to leave tonight, because they already struck ivory.
I stare down at the book in disbelief.
Why does V use the same phrasing as one of the thieves? Striking ivory is not a common term of the time, I don't think.
And how the heck did I not notice before?
I flip the pages till I get to the first letter, and then flip it back to the one I just read. The handwriting is very similar, but I start noticing certain things, the subtle difference in spacing between each letter, the way the second letter curls each alphabet with careful precision, while the first is more of a careless scrawl.
It's a close copy. But it's not exactly the same.
And then there's the most damning piece of evidence. The direct nature of the first letter contrasts with the superfluousness of the second.
Oh. My. God.
Excitement buzzes in my blood the next day as I head to the Tiki Bar for lunch with Xavier.
The weather is probably similar to how it was yesterday, but everything feels different. The air is fresh with possibilities. My mind is humming with ideas.
I can't believe I never noticed any of it before yesterday. I've read the journal several times, but I suppose I wasn't paying as much attention as I thought I was.
Or perhaps, I only read what I wanted to read. I wanted a love story and that was all I saw, skipping out on the rest of the details.
And now I see it, it seems crazy that I didn't consider it before.
Oh, Amelia is going to die when I tell her about this.
I glance at the Marriott hotel as I pass by. I'll stop by after my meeting with Xavier to see her, and maybe we can go on a hike.
As I approach the Tiki Bar, I see Xavier leaning against the wall on the phone, his back to me.
I get closer, about to speak but then I hesitate.
"Your fall-guy botched the fucking break-in," he says in low dulcet tones that always tell me he's furious. "And you didn't even get the damn pearls or the book, so what was even the point of that?"
My hand stops inches away from his shoulder.
My blood turns into ice. Even my breath freezes. Is he talking about a break in? My break in? Pearls? What?
Xavier releases another frustrated breath.
"It's amateur hour over here," he says. "Listen, just find the pearls. And if you can find the Pink one all the better. And make sure the big man leaves town. Whatever it takes. If not, we’ll have to consider the more lethal option."
Suddenly, Declan's warning rings loud and clear in my mind.