Four
Sadie
W ith the dishes done, I step into the guest room.
It’s cluttered with my clothes, but it doesn’t feel like home.
It feels temporary, just a place to stay for now.
The walls are painted light blue, a color I used to love.
Now, it just feels cold. I drop onto the bed and let my thoughts drift… straight to him.
Beckett Paradise.
I haven’t thought about him like this in years, not since we were kids.
Back then, I thought he was cool and funny.
But the more I remember, the more my feelings get mixed up.
I used to like the way he smiled at me, even when he was being annoying.
Like the time he tossed me into the lake and laughed as I struggled to come up for air.
He thought it was hilarious. I didn’t, but I still liked his attention.
There was a time when I had a huge crush on him.
I was young and didn’t know any better. He and Caleb were at university in Toronto.
My parents had died, and his parents had taken me in.
I was thankful, but when Ryker, Beckett’s youngest brother, said I couldn’t be friends with Ginny and stay with them, I left.
I spent the last year and a half of high school couch surfing, and then I got an apartment with Ginny.
One memory still makes me cringe. It was summer, and I had just eaten a bowl of rice I’d found in the fridge.
Beckett went to the fridge and asked if I’d seen the mealworms he fed his bearded dragon.
He said they’d been right here and described the rice container.
I threw up immediately, and he couldn’t stop laughing. That moment ended my crush for good.
Now, I’m living in his house. And not because I want to. Yet for the most part, Beckett is not as bad as I feared. Being in his space, breathing the scent of cedar and faint cologne—it brings something back. A feeling I don’t want. I try to push it away.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
unknown number: Canada Post has a package to deliver to you. It has $2 in duties. Please follow this link to pay for your package.
Spam. I wish there was a way to block those. I delete it and report it as junk. Then I continue to search my phone, hoping for something to cheer me up. I check my email—nothing back from the job applications I sent. My heart sinks.
I think about all my old jobs—bagging groceries at the IGH, folding underwear at Victoria’s Secret, working at the Paradise mini-golf course.
Most ended badly. And then there was the lawyer, the one who didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.
That job was the worst. When he pulled out his micro-wiener and asked if I wanted to taste it, I ran out the door.
That’s why I don’t ever want to work in an office where I can’t get away.
Would working at Paradise Vineyard be any better ?
My phone buzzes again, and my heart drops. It’s Alex.
I don’t want to read it. But I do.
Alex: Where are you? When are you coming home?
I stare at the words, and after a moment, I type a response.
Me: I’m not coming back.
His reply comes fast.
Alex: You better get your butt home and cook me some dinner, if you know what’s good for you.
Fury boils in my stomach. But I don’t reply.
I toss my phone into my backpack. Today, I closed my bank account because he had access to it.
He’d already taken most of my savings. I gathered what was left and opened a new account at a new bank where he can’t get to it.
He’s not taking anything else from me. Not money. Not time. Not power. I’m done.
Still, adrenaline zings through my veins. I close my eyes and think of Caleb, working hard across the ocean. He would want me to stay strong. “One step at a time,” I whisper.
But I can’t relax. I can feel Alex’s threat. I know he’s not done with me. Fear is what he uses. And he won’t just stop.
I can’t keep reading Alex’s texts, so I fire off a message to Caleb.
Me: I’m exhausted and going to bed. I hope we can talk tomorrow.
I shut my phone down and switch off the light. Darkness surrounds me, but it doesn’t feel peaceful. I lie on my back, eyes open, listening to the silence, trying to figure out what comes next. Tomorrow, I’ll look harder for a job. One that’s stable. One that gives me a fresh start .
Paradise Vineyard would be a dream. I loved it when I lived in the main house for a while. The idea feels warm and bright. I imagine the sun shining on rows of vines, the smell of the earth, and the quiet peace of a good day’s work. It sounds like something real. Something I could love.
What if Tarryn won’t hire me? What if she’s worried about Ginny Dempsey being my friend? I haven’t talked to her in years, but she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know me.
But I have to believe I can do this. Even if it’s scary.
Even if it doesn’t work out right away. It will still be better than the life I had with Alex.
I don’t ever want to feel trapped again.
I remember night after night of watching him get high on weed and fall asleep in the recliner. What a waste of time and money.
I see that now.
I close my eyes and take another deep breath, letting the strength I found yesterday flow through me again. I took back a piece of my life. I took a step forward. Tomorrow, I’ll keep going. I’ll find a way to stand on my own.