Chapter 80
CHAPTER 80
H ow can you have ever had me, Kent? When I don’t even know who you are.
But you do, Kent had tried to say. You know the real me. The me I want to be.
He should have screamed at her. Made her see he was telling the truth. But tears clogged his throat, and Gemma was already out of the kitchen, heading out of his life for good.
Minutes passed as he stood there, waiting for her to return. Knowing she wouldn’t. Finally, Kent sank to the ground. In one hand, he was holding the information Gemma had printed out about Harrison Dean and the rise of Coffee-X. In his other hand was the reason he knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
It was strange, really, he’d fallen for Gemma so fast. The meal at the yacht club was the moment he knew his life would never be the same. He was hooked. Then that first kiss, the one that followed the next day, and every one since had only confirmed it for him. She was the one he wanted to be with.
Every time they were together, he had wanted to tell her about the negotiations he’d been in with Coffee-X, but doing that would mean admitting the truth; he didn’t deserve her. He was the type of man who would buy a piece of real estate from his old, unwell uncle well below market value, just to sell it on at a profit. What kind of person did that? Not the type of person Gemma deserved, that would be for sure. Of course, all that had been before he’d actually started working at the place. And now, well, now the letter in his hand was evidence of just how big a mistake he’d made.
“You’re the new owner here, aren’t you?” The lady had said when she’d knocked on the door early yesterday morning. So early, he was the only one there. “You’re the one who bought the place from your uncle?”
“Yes, that’s right, that’s me,” Kent had replied.
“Would you be able to pass this on to Gemma?” she gestured to an envelope in her hand.
“Of course.”
He reached out to take it from her, but even when his fingers were on the paper, she didn’t let go.
“You might want to read that too, just so you know how special your staff are.”
He nodded and muttered something about food in the oven, at which point she had smiled and finally released the envelope to him.
Back in the kitchen, Kent placed it on the side, and for the longest time, he resisted looking inside. After all, it was addressed to Gemma. But then, just after lunch, she had sent him a message saying something had come up, and she wouldn’t be able to see him that evening. The disappointment had mingled with relief. After all, it meant another day without having to admit to her what he’d done. Or another day without having to lie to her. But after that, the envelope’s call had been even greater and, as soon as there was a lull in orders, he picked it up and pulled out the card inside.
Dear Gemma,
As you know, these weeks have been some of the toughest I have had to endure. And part of me feels that there are tougher weeks yet to come, what with the funeral and the sorting of the house and such things. But that wasn’t why I wanted to write this note. I wanted to say thank you for making me feel seen.
It probably feels like a small thing to somebody like you. You’re youthful, beautiful, and surrounded by people who clearly adore you. I, on the other hand, well, I’m old. There’s no way around it. I’ve spent the last eight years a widow, looking after my widowed mother while my children moved to the other side of the country to raise their own families. When Mum lived with me, it was okay. I knew I had a use, a purpose, but then she went into the home, and suddenly I was on my own. I always thought I was the type of person who didn’t mind solitude. I could read books, go for walks, spend time by myself, but the fact is we need people. Without them, we become invisible. That’s what it feels like some days. It feels like I’m invisible. That I could walk down the street, and no one would notice whether I was there or not. But you always notice. Every time I have walked in here, you’ve greeted me with a smile or a worried frown when you could see that something was wrong. You’ve asked about how I am doing, and made me feel like I was a human who was worth talking to. I am so grateful for that. And I wanted to let you know, that what you do makes a difference. Thank you. Please don’t ever change this wonderful place you have here.
Your dearest friend, Janice. (Also, there is ￡5 in here because I realised I didn’t pay for my last coffee and cake, and I know you’ll be too polite when I next come in.)
Kent’s stomach twisted with knots. The truth was, he knew his uncle would have never sold the coffee shop to a company like Coffee-X, regardless of how many times Kent told him he was sitting on a gold mine. Oscar had insisted that profits weren’t everything, and Kent had considered him an old fool. When he’d signed the papers, Kent had wondered if, deep down, his uncle had known what he’d planned. Or maybe he’d hoped Kent would realise he was the one who was the fool after all.