34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Nova
I usually woke early, so that I could go for a run before I went to work.
As always, I laced up my running shoes, put my housekey in the small pocket of my running shorts, and stepped out onto Jones Street. Unlike other runners, I didn't wear headphones and listen to music. I wanted to feel the city and hear its sounds.
The historic brick townhouses and towering oak trees draped in Spanish moss made for a beautiful start to my day. This run was my sanctuary, a chance to clear my mind and find some peace before the world woke up.
Today, it was different.
Today, Anson joined me.
How the hell did he even know I ran in the morning? Stalker much!
I glanced over at him as we jogged side by side.
Part of me screamed that I couldn't trust him, not after everything that had happened. Yet, another part of me was undeniably happy to have him with me, and that there was hope that I would not be alone for the rest of my life, that I'd have him , the proverbial white picket fence, and….
Stop being stupid, Nova! Get a grip, girl, 'cause Anson Larue ain't reliable.
We made our way through the charming streets of downtown Savannah, past quaint cafés just beginning to stir, and the occasional early riser walking their dog. The cobblestone pathways were familiar underfoot, each step a mix of muscle memory and the comfort of routine.
Anson didn't say a thing, he just kept pace with me, his breathing steady, his presence both comforting and unnerving. I focused on the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, the sound of our synchronized steps filling the quiet morning.
As we approached the river, the air grew cooler, carrying the scent of water and the faint aroma of blooming flowers. The path alongside the Savannah River was one of my favorite parts of the run. The water glistened under the morning light, and the sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore had a soothing effect. The majestic cargo ships in the distance moved silently.
We ran past Forsyth Park, where the iconic fountain sparkled in the early sunlight.
We reached the end of the riverside path, pausing to catch our breath. The sun was higher now, casting a warm glow over the water. I looked out at the river, the horizon blurring with possibilities.
I remembered our walks in Sentinel, the laughter, and the effortless conversations that once came so naturally. Could we ever return to that?
As if he could read my thoughts, Anson spoke, his voice soft yet earnest. "I know I have a lot to make up for."
I glanced at him, catching the sincerity in his eyes. But I didn't respond.
"I know that it's going to take a lot to fix things," he continued. "I understand that, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
I turned to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. All I saw was determination and a glimmer of hope.
"I have nothing to give you," I said honestly.
He smiled. "One step at a time, Sugar."
When we got home, he brushed his lips against my cheek at my doorstep. "Thanks for letting me join you."
Like I had a choice, buddy!
"I say you should have sex with him," Katya suggested.
"No," Trev protested. "Every time she does, she ends up in jail."
I giggled. "It's funny, even if it's true."
We met for dinner at the Fiddler's Crab House, where the seafood was fresh, and views of the river were awesome. We sat at a table by a large window with a picture-perfect view of the water.
It was a Friday night, so the restaurant was buzzing with activity. Diners' cheerful chatter mixed with the tinkling of silverware and glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter.
"So, tell me all about the going on the knees and crawling business," Katya grinned. "You just mentioned it over the phone and left me hangin'."
"Baby, I'm on my knees for you all the time," Trevor said suggestively.
"I don't need that image in my head," I grimaced.
"You're so good on your knees," Katya cooed.
While they bantered, I looked out of the window. The sun was beginning to set, and the water looked like it was on fire. I wondered what Anson was doing this evening. A very small part of me had wanted to invite him for dinner, but that seemed a bit too forward when I was trying to push him away.
Hard to push away a man who's living across the hall from you, Nova.
"So, what are we eating?" Katya asked, glancing at the menus laid out on the table.
"How about a seafood platter to share," Trevor suggested. "It has everything—crab legs, shrimp, oysters, and more. Plus, we get some garlic butter and hush puppies on the side."
"Sounds perfect," I replied, my mouth watering at the thought.
When the server arrived, we ordered a bottle of Sancerre, and the seafood platter. After Katya did the whole wine smelling and tasting business, the conversation naturally turned to their upcoming wedding.
"Eight months to go," Trevor shook his head. "Mom is all in with the planning, of course."
Katya rolled her eyes. "She's driving me up the wall. I swear, if she suggests one more change to the colors or the flowers, I might just drag Trev to Vegas and elope."
I laughed, knowing all too well how Trevor's mother could be. "Donna won't care. She'll still have your wedding here."
" Gah ," Katya agreed. "But wouldn't it be great if we could run away, Trev? No fuss, no stress. Just us."
Trevor squeezed her hand, a loving smile on his face. "Honey, we want kids someday, so I'm not going to risk my balls that she'll ram down my throat if I don't give Mama the wedding she wants."
"Speaking of mothers…." I raised my glass at Trevor. "How did Beau's conversation with Donna go?"
"Don't know," Trevor reported. "He hasn't given me an update, and Mama hasn't said a thing, so I don't think he's told her yet. He's been crazy busy…was in DC for somethin', and then San Diego for a conference."
"You nervous about Donna?" Katya asked sympathetically.
"I don't want her hurt."
"Neither do I." Trevor put his hand on mine and squeezed. "Beau is pretty confident that he'll smooth it out. I'm gonna trust him, you should as well."
"I still can't believe how quickly he embraced me as part of the family. It means a lot," I said, feeling a surge of gratitude.
Trevor nodded. "Beau's thrilled to have you as a sister, and pissed with me for withholding…ah…as he put it… sisterly love from his life ."
Katya and I laughed.
"He tells me you're resisting getting part of what Daddy's will owes you," Trevor spoke carefully. He knew I was volatile when it came to money. Growing up poor, I never wanted anyone to think that I was trying to take anything from them. So much for my efforts, because Anson had believed the worst about me.
Katya smiled warmly. "You're family, Nova. We all want you to have your share."
I felt a lump in my throat, overwhelmed by their kindness. "Thank you. Really . It's been a lot to take in, but having your support makes it easier. But…money is…I don't know, maybe it's how things turned out with Anson, but I've always felt that money, easy money that you don't have to work for corrupts."
Just then, our waiter arrived with a massive seafood platter, setting it down in the center of the table. The aroma was heavenly, and my stomach rumbled in anticipation. We dug in, the conversation flowing effortlessly as we savored the delicious meal.
The table had been cleared, and we were finishing up the last dregs of wine, when I found out what Anson was doing on a Friday night. I saw him when I walked to the restroom—he was at the bar with Dom.
"He's there everywhere," I muttered when I got back to our table.
Katya looked around, and whistled softly. "He's one gorgeous piece of man." This was the first time she was seeing him in the flesh. She had snooped online and told me he looked good in a suit on the Larue Homes website.
"Honey, I'm sitting right here," Trevor commented.
"I know, darlin'. I'm engaged, not blind or dead."
"Objectively speakin'…yeah, he's all that ," I agreed. And he was. But even if he had one eye and was ugly as sin, I'd still love him, still want him. Beauty was subjective , after all—and the time we'd spent together all those years ago had shown me the man Anson could be. I understood well enough that he'd been manipulated as I had been. If I could believe Pete that Anson wanted me in a cell with Carre, then why shouldn't Anson believe Pete, who he'd known all his life, about my guilt?
But Anson had continued to make shitty choices. He laid out a plan to see if I could be corrupted again . He didn't go about framing me, that was Bailey—but she was his choice. He'd gotten engaged to her, for everything holy, and what did that say about him ?
Who we decided to spend our lives with was a reflection on us, right? And it wasn't like he didn't know Bailey. He knew how she and Alma were the mean girls in high school—how they went to university to get a degree in MRS so they could become wives of rich men, and continue to be mean grown-up girls.
How could a man who wanted to marry Bailey want me? I was as different from her as could be. I wasn't all-white with a Mayflower pedigree. I was a career woman, who worked hard. I had a fucked up pedigree, even counting that I was Emmett Bodine's bastard child. I wouldn't say I didn't have a mean bone in my body, ‘cause I could be that if the moment demanded it, but it wasn't my resting stance like Bailey's and Alma's.
"You look deep in thought," Katya remarked, and then, with mischief in her eyes, said, "You thinkin' about sexy times?"
"She's my sister," Trevor protested, looking pained.
"No." I shook my head. "I'm…I know he wants us to start datin' again. I get that. But I don't get how a man who was engaged to Bailey is the same man who went on his knees and crawled for me."
Trevor emptied the bottle of wine into my glass. "Drink up, Sis, 'cause I'm gonna tell you some hard truths about men."
I sipped my wine and waited with a grin.
"One, we're dumb fucks who are sometimes led by our peckers."
I chuckled.
"That's not an exclusively male thing—I think it's a human thing. I dated a complete jerk in high school because… the big O ," Katya stated.
"But I'm better, right?" Trevor teased.
He'd lived before he met Katya, and she'd walked the earth as well. Neither of them had come to each other simpering virgins, and they were grown up enough not to be jealous of each other's past.
"The best, baby cakes." She patted his cheek.
"Okay, so good sex trumps common sense. Check." I made a tick sign on the palm of my left hand with my right forefinger.
Trevor narrowed his eyes dramatically. "Now, the second one is complicated, so listen carefully."
I leaned closer, my ear turned toward him in an exaggerated gesture.
"Men don't like being in love."
"Huh?" Both Katya and I queried.
Trevor raised the palm of his hand, silently asking us to hold off until he explained himself. "Love makes us weak, even stupid. Men don't like that."
"Isn't that an over-generalization?" I mused.
"I don't ever generalize." Trevor winked at me. "Just sayin' that sometimes it's easy to be with someone you don't love so they can never hurt you, rather than being with someone who can. Look, based on what you tell me about his parents and sister, this guy has grown up in a transactional, what-will-people-think-of-me kind of world, which is all about appearances. He was probably already scared shitless to be in love with you, and then that asshole deputy sheriff gave him ample reason to walk away. Stupid, yes. Uncommon, hell no."
Both Katya and I nodded gravely. He made a point. One that said men were insecure overachievers, in general .
"And what's the third thing?" Katya wanted to know.
Trevor tapped her nose with a finger. "That once we accept we're in love, come hell or high water, a man like me is goin' after my woman. And Anson is like Beau, like me…."
"I love it when you say my woman ," Katya infused her voice with a little sultry Marilyn Monroe. "It makes me all hot and bothered.
"Sheesh, girlfriend, Trev is my brother," I joked, and then turned to Trevor. "So, what you're sayin' is that men are scared morons who think with their cocks; want to avoid being perceived as weak; and when they finally get their heads out of their asses, and know they're in love they go all me, Tarzan, you Jane ?"
I saw Trevor and Katya's eyes flit behind me, and I knew who was there, even before I heard his voice.
"Somethin' like that, Sugar."