Chapter Twenty-Seven
Seth
“Ineed it done quicker than that,” I grit out, doing everything in my power to keep my temper under wraps.
“Mr. Cassidy, it’s the earliest I can get an agent there.
” The man’s tone is brimming with finality.
He isn’t going to budge. It’s clear no amount of begging or cursing will move the insurance claim process along any quicker.
My eyes catch on a stack of freshly laundered napkins on one of the tables as my mind absently churns with all the destruction in my life.
It’s just one of many tasks left undone after Iris dismissed the staff.
I should probably send out an email letting everyone know we likely won’t be operational for the rest of the week.
“Would you like me to schedule it for you?” he asks after I’m silent for a moment too long.
“It seems I don’t have much of a choice.” I don’t attempt to hide my bitterness.
“Perfect,” he replies in a much brighter tone, his demeanor changing now that our conversation is coming to an end. The sound of his typing beats to the same rhythm as the pounding in my head. “Devon will be there Wednesday at 10 a.m.”
“Great,” I droll, and just as he starts to tell me to have a great day, I end the call. I don’t need his or anyone else’s empty pleasantries.
Throwing my head back, I let out a deep sigh and run a hand through my hair.
Iris was right, it isn’t as bad as it could have been.
But without knowing if the ventilation system is damaged, we aren’t allowed to open.
Then, depending on what the insurance adjuster finds, we could be closed all the way into next week for repairs.
Why couldn’t this have happened before we did the reno on the kitchen?
The whole thing is a nightmare, a perfect reflection of my life right now.
Luckily, I haven’t had time to think about Ripley much for the last forty-eight hours because I’ve been so busy.
He’s there though, in the back of mind, every second of every day.
When I close my eyes, it’s his face I see, the heartbreak in his eyes, the betrayal pouring off of him.
And the look he gave me right before I turned around to leave, it’s burned into my brain.
Sleeping has been the hardest. I’d gotten used to having his body wrapped around mine.
Taking one more glance at the charred ceiling of the kitchen, I turn off the lights to head home. There’s nothing more I can do here until Wednesday when Devon comes to assess.
After locking up, I make my way to my car, hefting my laptop bag up my shoulder.
As soon as I shut the door, my phone buzzes.
As it connects to the car’s Bluetooth, Cary’s name pops up on the infotainment screen.
I let out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose as I consider answering.
It’s not the first time he’s called, and it likely won’t be the last.
I know what he’s going to say though. He’ll ask what’s wrong with me, why I left in the middle of his wedding reception without saying goodbye, neither of which I have a good answer for.
Then he’ll ask about Carina Cove, partially because he loves the restaurant as much as I do, and partially to see if I need help navigating the mess.
And finally, after he’s exhausted every other avenue, he’ll ask if I’m okay, knowing damn well I’m not ready to talk about it.
If he’s feeling cruel, he’ll tell me how Ripley’s holding up. And I just can’t deal with it right now, not on top of everything else. The restaurant needs my undivided attention. I need to keep my focus on what’s in front of me, not what’s behind me.
The phone stops ringing, but before I feel even an ounce of relief, it starts up again.
This time, I decline the call so he knows I’m not fucking around.
The only reason he’d need to talk to me, aside from personal questions, is to find out what’s going on with Carina Cove.
He’s still a silent investor, so he has every right to ask, but there are other people he can call.
Days like this, I’m thankful I live so close to the restaurant.
Close enough, I could technically walk. As I pull into my spot in the parking garage a few minutes later, I notice Iris sitting in her car in one of the nearby guest spots.
And she wonders why I’ve never given her a key to my place.
If I had, she’d be waiting inside, sitting on my couch and eating my food.
I shouldn’t be surprised she’s here though. I hung up on her two days ago and declined her calls yesterday. Maybe if I pretend like I don’t see her, she’ll give up and leave.
Knowing it won’t work, I try anyway, getting maybe two steps away from my car before her door opens and slams shut.
“I know you aren’t seriously going to ignore me to my face,” she spouts at my back, her words filled with irritation.
I keep walking, it doesn’t matter what I say, I know she’s going to follow me.
“I hate you sometimes, you know,” she tells me just as we both reach the elevator.
“Don’t worry, I hate me too.” I don’t mean to be self-deprecating. At least, not with the intention of making her feel bad. I’m just tired of hiding, tired of pretending like I’m okay.
She doesn’t say anything else, and I know why.
We’re both silent all the way to my apartment.
I unlock my door without looking back at her, needing to be inside before we have this conversation, before I break down entirely.
I feel it coming like it’s chasing me, and I’m too exhausted to keep dodging it.
My almost-sterile apartment doesn’t seem like home anymore, something I noticed the moment my feet crossed the threshold late last night.
It’s too clean, too organized. There’s nothing for me to complain about, no reason to be upset over something inconsequential like a shoe left in the wrong spot or coffee grounds littering the counter.
Fuck, I miss him so much.
The door shuts as Iris shuffles in behind me. I toe off my shoes, leaving them in their designated “home” under the coat rack.
“What’s going on, Seth? First, you hung up on me, now you’re avoiding me. Did something happen in South Carolina? I’ve barely heard from you, aside from you texting me you were going on a hike and may die, which you never explained, by the way.”
I sit on the couch, looking up at her. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest in the middle of my living room, and her cheeks are flushed with frustration. I don’t blame her.
“You done?”
“Not really, but you can answer those before I pummel you with more,” she says with a cock of her head.
She’s so snarky, it’s why we get along so well.
She doesn’t put up with my stubborn hardheadedness, nor does my blunt honesty hurt her feelings.
Aside from Cary, this is how she’s always been with everyone.
It’s the reason I decided I liked her when Cary first introduced us.
She’s a spitfire, and I respect it. The surprise was finding out how kind she is underneath all her fire. By the time I realized it, I liked her so much it only made her more endearing instead of it being a reason to push her away.
“Lucky for me, pretty much all of those questions can be answered with one sentence.” I turn my gaze to the floor.
I know she’s going to be upset I didn’t tell her sooner, and maybe I should have.
Maybe I could have avoided all of the hurt I caused if I’d just confided in her before I blew it all up.
Attempting to rid my hands of their claminess, I wipe them on my pants and say, “East is Ripley.”
Silence.
My eyes slide up to her face. “What?” Her tone is softer now, all snark gone.
“Ripley the—Thea’s friend?” She sits down on the couch beside me, quietly putting it all together in her head.
After coming out to her last year, it only felt natural to confide in her about East. I may not have gone into all the dirty details, but I was honest about how much I liked him and how badly I’d fucked it up in November.
It was different then though. I didn’t know Ripley. I knew East, or maybe I didn’t, not really. Either way, this feels worse. This seems definitive. Before, I could still reach out; I still felt connected to him in a way. But this… this hurts in the way a break up hurts.
“So this whole time…”
“Yeah,” I say as she trails off. “I was—fuck, I was basically living with hi—” Iris cuts me off with a punch to the arm. “Ow! What the fuck?”
“Yeah, what the fuck, Seth?” Iris asks, standing now, hands on her hips as she looks down at me. She’s pissed, and I’m honestly not sure why.
I rub my bicep as she rolls her eyes. Then it clicks.
“I get it, okay? I should have told you.”
Her hands fly into the air as if she’s so exasperated, she can’t believe she’s friends with me. “You are literally hopeless. Are all men this way? Because honestly, I might just stay single for life if you’re all this deluded.”
And now I’m confused. Thoroughly. My confusion must be written all over my face because her expression goes lax as she sighs.
“You think I’m upset because you didn’t tell me?”
I nod my head, not sure I should speak because I’m about ninety-six percent sure I’ll say the wrong thing.
“No,” she starts as she sits back down beside me.
Her head falls to the back of the couch as she stares at the ceiling.
“I’m mad because I’ve felt heartbreak enough to recognize it in you.
And if East is Ripley, and you not only rushed back when I told you not to, but you also avoided me like the plague once you got back, it means things with him didn’t go well.
It means you didn’t let him love you the way you should have. Again.”
Iris has always been intuitive. It’s nice most of the time. This is one of the times where it isn’t. I don’t love her ability to read me as well as she does.
“I… may have fucked it up again, yeah,” I finally say, trying desperately to keep my shit together. I let out a sigh just as her hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers.
She gives my hand a squeeze before asking, “Want to talk about it?”
Between her comfort and her acceptance, I lose the battle within myself. The moment I turn to look at her, the dam I’ve tried so hard to keep boarded shut breaks. A tear streams down my cheek, and she immediately pulls me into her.
“Oh, Sethy…”
A broken sob leaves my lips as I try to speak. “I-I—” Taking a deep breath, fighting through the tears, I try again, “I love him, Iris. I—fuck. I love him so much.”
She doesn’t say anything, just rubs my back as I cry on her shoulder.
Once I finally calmed down, I told her everything. Starting with the sheer panic I went through when I realized who Ripley is, all the way up until the moment I broke both of our hearts with four simple words strung together in a sentence I never should have said.
It was a lie. There’s no universe where he and I exist and there isn’t an us. I wish I was confident enough in what we have and the love I thought I showed him to say there’s no way he believed me, but I can’t. I know I was convincing. The tone of my voice didn’t leave any room for second-guessing.
It was around one in the morning by the time I finished telling her everything. I even included some of the more personal details this time, mostly because she asked how the sex was, and I wasn’t willing to continue lying to her.
She didn’t take it easy on me either, but nothing she could say would be worse than what I’ve said to myself.
I’m glad she knows. I’m glad someone knows how I feel about Ripley. I just wish I’d told him before I left, before I ruined everything because I’m too scared to be open about who I love.
I’m sure she’ll have more to say in the morning, it’s probably why she demanded to stay the night.
She’s asleep on the pull-out in the living room, while I lie awake in my bed regretting every decision I made in my last twenty-four hours in Indigo Hill.
I should be brave enough to reach out. I should apologize, tell him I was scared and needed time.
I should do a lot of things, but he deserves better than me.
After breaking his heart twice, I’m not worthy of being someone he loves.
Even so, I still find myself staring at our text thread, contemplating saying something.
Me: I’m sorry.
Me: Is there any chance you’ll forgive me again?
Me: I’m an asshole.
Me: I love you…
I erase every single one, knowing nothing I say can repair the damage I’ve done, and deep down, I’m doing him a favor by leaving him alone.