16. Becca
Becca
T he morning sun streams through Casa Azul's windows as I pad barefoot across the cool tile floor. The scent of coffee and something buttery wafts from the kitchen, where Clive stands at the stove, his back to me. I just watch him for a moment, still trying to process everything that happened last night.
I slip into one of the bedrooms to change out of the clothes I slept in, pulling a light blue sundress over my head. The cotton feels soft against my skin, still warm from sleep. When I finally turn my phone back on, it buzzes like an angry hornet.
Fifty-three missed calls from Jack. Twelve from Holly. Twenty-eight text messages.
My stomach drops as I scroll through them, each more frantic than the last.
"Where the hell are you?"
"Answer your damn phone."
"I'm going to kill Clive if he's touched you."
I quickly tap Holly's name, needing a buffer between me and Jack's rage.
"Oh my God, Becca!" Holly answers on the first ring. "Are you okay? Jack is absolutely losing his mind. He showed up at my apartment at midnight demanding to know where you were."
"I'm fine," I say, lowering my voice and stepping farther from the kitchen. "Better than fine, actually."
"Where are you? Jack said something about you disappearing with Clive?"
I peek around the corner to see Clive flipping what looks like perfect golden pancakes. His sleeves are rolled up, and his forearms flex as he works. My God in heaven, the man is beautiful.
"I'm at Casa Azul with Clive," I admit, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
"Casa Azul? In Cozumel? Becca, what is happening?" Holly's voice rises an octave.
"I know how it sounds, but Holly... everything changed two nights ago. Jack and I had this horrible fight after he suggested that instead of getting engaged, we move in together so that I could support him while he pursued his dreams. We broke up, and his stepdad made him and his mom return to New York. Clive said I could stay or go with them. I chose to stay."
"And you just stayed in Cozumel with your ex-boyfriend's stepfather? Did you fool around with him?"
I lower my voice even more. "It wasn't planned. We just started talking and couldn't stop. And then... Holly, I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've been sleepwalking through my relationship with Jack for years."
"Oh my God," Holly whispers. "You slept with Clive Bishop."
"It's not just physical," I say quickly. "It's like Clive sees me—the real me. Not just the checklist-following, people-pleasing Becca that Jack wants me to be."
"Jack is going to have an aneurysm," Holly says. "He's already threatening to call the police."
"The police? I'm a grown woman. “He really has lost his mind.”
From the kitchen, Clive calls out, "Breakfast is ready!"
"I have to go," I tell Holly, my heart racing. "I'll call you later."
"Becca, wait—I need details!"
"I promise I'll give you all the dirty deets. Just remind Jack we’re no longer together, and he should move on with one of his side chicks."
I end the call and take a deep breath before entering the kitchen. The sight of Clive standing there, domestically arranging pancakes on plates, makes my heart do a little flip. He looks up and smiles, and it feels like sunlight spreading through my chest.
"Perfect timing," he says, sliding a plate across the island counter. "I hope you like blueberry pancakes."
"They taste amazing," I say, taking an eager bite as I climb onto a stool.
"All your praise is going straight to my head,” he says with a wink, pouring fresh coffee into a mug for me.
"Jack's called me fifty-three times," I blurt out.
Clive's expression darkens slightly as he sits beside me. "I expected as much. Are you okay?"
"I don't know," I admit, pushing a blueberry around my plate. "Part of me feels a little guilty, but another part feels... free? Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense." His hand covers mine, warm and steady. "You don't owe him anything, Becca. Not after how he's treated you."
My phone buzzes again on the counter. Jack's face appears on the screen. I stare at it, frozen.
"You can answer it," Clive says quietly. "If you want to."
"No," I say, pressing the decline button. "I'm not ready to talk to him yet."
The phone immediately buzzes again. This time, I turn it face down.
"What happens now?" I ask, looking up at Clive. His blue eyes are serious, studying me.
"That depends entirely on you," he says. "I know what I want, but this is complicated. I'm eighteen years older than you.”
"And I just broke up with your stepson," I add. "Don't forget that part."
His mouth quirks up. "Hard to forget."
"But?" I prompt, hearing the hesitation in his voice.
"But I haven't felt this alive in years," he says, his voice dropping lower. "Maybe ever."
I reach for his hand, twining our fingers together. "Me neither."
My phone buzzes repeatedly, vibrating against the counter like an angry insect. Clive glances at it.
"He's not going to stop," he says.
"I know Jack. He's used to getting his way."
Clive's jaw tightens. "Something he and his mother have in common.”
"I've never been good at telling people no," I confess, taking another pancake to avoid Clive's gaze. "Especially Jack. He has this way of making me feel like I'm the unreasonable one."
"That's called narcissistic gaslighting," Clive says matter-of-factly. He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. "It's what Kay did to me for years."
The buzzing starts again, and I feel my resolve weakening. "Maybe I should just answer and get it over with."
Clive shrugs. "Your call. But remember, you don't owe him an explanation."
My finger hovers over the screen. "What would you do?"
"I'd tell him exactly where he could stick his fifty-three phone calls," Clive says with a wry smile. "But I'm not known for my diplomacy."
That makes me laugh, breaking the tension. I hit the answer button before I change my mind.
"Where the HELL are you? Are you still in fucking Mexico with Clive?" Jack's voice explodes through the speaker. I don't put it on speakerphone, but his voice is so loud Clive can clearly hear every word.
"Jack, I?—"
"Do you have any idea what you've put me through? Do you know the kind of horrible things going through my mind?"
"I broke up with you," I say firmly, surprising myself. "Two nights ago. Remember? What I do is no longer any of your business."
There's a brief silence. "That wasn't a real breakup, Becca. You were emotional."
I feel Clive's hand on my back, a silent show of support. It gives me courage.
"It was very real. And when I return to New York, it won’t be to you."
"You're with him, aren't you?" Jack's voice turns venomous. "My mother said Clive is still in Mexico."
I glance at Clive, who raises an eyebrow but stays silent, letting me handle this my way.
"Yes," I say simply. "I'm with Clive."
The stream of obscenities that follows makes me wince. I pull the phone away from my ear until Jack runs out of breath.
"Are you finished?" I ask when he finally pauses.
"You're making a fool of yourself," Jack spits. "He's using you to get back at me and my mother. Is that what you want? To be a pawn in his revenge game?"
The accusation stings, but when I look at Clive—at the gentle concern in his eyes—I know it isn't true.
"This has nothing to do with you, Jack. Or your mother."
"He's old enough to be your father!"
"And yet he treats me with more respect than you ever did," I counter.
Clive's mouth quirks up in a half-smile.
"I'm flying there," Jack threatens. "I’m leaving today."
"No," I say firmly. "Don't come here, Jack. It's over between us."
"You don't get to decide that," he snarls.
Something in me snaps. Years of accommodating, tiptoeing around his moods, and making myself smaller crystallize into a hard knot of resolve.
"Actually, I do. That's exactly how breakups work. One person says it's over, and it's over."
"This is because I didn't propose, isn't it? Fine. I'll marry you. Is that what you want to hear?"
Clive's eyebrows shoot up, and I almost laugh at the absurdity of it.
"No, Jack. I don't want to marry you. I don't want to move in with you. I don't want to know you anymore."
"It's Clive," Jack says, his voice dripping with venom. "He's poisoned you against me. My own stepfather?—"
"This isn't about Clive," I interrupt, though the man sitting beside me, his hand warm against my back, has shown me what I've been missing. "This is about us—how you've treated me for years. I deserved better."
"Better?" Jack laughs bitterly. "You think that's Clive? He's using you to hurt me and Mom. Once he's made his point, he'll toss you aside like yesterday's trash."
I feel Clive stiffen beside me, and I reach for his hand, squeezing it.
"I'm hanging up now, Jack. Please don't call again."
"Becca Jamison, if you hang up on me?—"
I end the call and immediately block his number. My hands are shaking, but I feel lighter like I've shed a heavy coat I didn't realize I was wearing.
"You okay?" Clive asks softly.
I nod, surprised to find it's true. "I think I actually am."
My phone pings with a text from Holly:
Jack just called me screaming about you blocking him. What did you DO?
I set the phone down without responding and turn to Clive. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
He studies me as if making sure I'm really alright. "I thought maybe a boat ride? There's a little cove on the other side of the island. Crystal clear water, good snorkeling."
"That sounds perfect," I say, taking another bite of pancake. They're getting cold, but they still taste like freedom.
"We should probably talk about what happens when we return to New York," Clive says. "Jack isn't going to let this go easily."
"I know." I sigh, setting down my fork. "And your ex-wife is going to be furious. She’ll make life hell for you."
"Kay's fury is a familiar storm," he says with a wry smile. "I weathered it for fifteen years. I can handle another squall."
I push my plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore. "This is going to be messy, isn't it? The society pages will have a field day with this. My parents are going to be mortified." I groan, dropping my head into my hands. "They're already disappointed that I chose event planning over law school. This might send them over the edge."
Clive moves behind me, his strong hands gently massaging my shoulders. "Do you care what they think? Genuinely asking."
I consider this for a moment. "I've spent my whole life trying to please them. Trying to please everyone. Jack, my parents, my friends..." I twist to look up at him. "I'm exhausted."
"Then stop," he says simply, his blue eyes serious. "Live for yourself, Rebecca. What do you want?"
The question hangs in the air between us. What do I want? I've been so busy checking boxes—college, career, boyfriend—that I've never asked myself that question.
"I want..." I reach up to touch his face, the rough texture of his beard against my palm. “I want to see where this goes. With you. Even if it's complicated.”
His smile is slow and warm. "I want that too."
"But we should probably take it slow when we get back to New York," I add reluctantly. "Give things time to settle with Jack."
Clive nods, though I can see the flash of disappointment in his eyes. "We can be discreet."
"Not because I'm ashamed," I clarify quickly. "Just because?—"
"I understand." He presses a kiss to my palm. "Jack's ego is fragile. Finding out about us will be a blow. Best not to rub salt in the wound."
My phone buzzes again with another text from Holly:
He's threatening to fly to Mexico TODAY. Please call me!
I show Clive the message, and his expression hardens. "I'll make some calls. Make sure he can't get on any flights to Cozumel today."
"You can do that?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Bishop Security has certain... privileges with the airlines."