Chapter Twenty
“Al, Mella, excuse me,” Liam says in a hard voice, before turning his attention to me. “But Lucy, what the hell is all this ?”
“Liam I—”
“Al,” Mella interrupts, “didn’t you say you were hungry?”
“Starving, actually,” Al murmurs.
“Me too. We’re going to run down to the restaurant for a quick bite to eat,” Mella says, practically pushing her husband out of the door.
“No, you guys don’t have to leave,” I say, breaking off from Liam’s intense stare to meet them outside the door. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a bit of a crazy day, I guess.”
Mella turns to me and places her hands over mine. “Darling, it’s okay. We’ll be back in a little bit. It’ll give you two a minute to chat,” she says with a sympathetic smile. Before I can rebut, they’re out the door, and I’m left staring at the door handle, wondering how everything has imploded so spectacularly.
“Well?” Liam presses.
When I turn around, he’s reading my notes, the character profile of the bookstore owner. And on the corresponding page is the profile for the hero—the fictitious version of him.
In a moment like this, I’d love to be able to avoid him, to hide from him, to lie to him. But that isn’t me. I stare right into his eyes.
“Can we sit?” I croak, walking past him and collapsing at the kitchen table. He follows but leans against the counter instead of sitting. For a few beats, no one speaks, and then I start the speech I’ve prepared in my head over the past few days.
“I didn’t come here to run away from a relationship. I haven’t even been in a relationship since college.” Liam shakes his head. “The truth is that Anne, my boss, sent me here for one of our authors. To outline a new series.”
Liam pauses for a moment, and I can see the thoughts working behind his eyes. “To write a series about Hudson Hollow? To… study us?” I can tell that he’s trying to stay calm but there’s anger rising in his voice.
“No, no, that makes it sound so clinical!” I reply, internally panicking. “She sent me here to see what living in a small town would be like, to get ideas, to inspire a new series. My notes were never supposed to—”
Liam turns and grips the counter with his hands. His head hangs between his shoulders. He flings the notebook across the table at me with a loud thud .
“Tragic hero. Abandonment issues. Damaged .” He practically spits the last word. “Is this your opinion of me?”
“Of course not!” I squeal, jumping up and meeting him in the kitchen in three big strides. “These are tropes. It’s just a formula. The characters need backstories, things to overcome before they can fall in love with each other.” I pause for a moment, wondering how my rambling must sound to him. I meet his gaze to see if I’m getting through to him at all. All I see is anguish. Betrayal.
“Please just let me explain everything,” I plead, urging him to sit down. Liam looks at me in a way I haven’t seen since I first arrived in Hudson Hollow. He looks at me with unease, like he’s not sure if he can trust me. And I don’t blame him. I’ve been dishonest with him from the start.
He takes a deep breath and sits down, and for the moment I breathe a tiny sigh of relief.
“You were right about my job, about me not being completely happy,” I start. “Everyone thinks living in the city is glamorous, and maybe it is for some people, but—” I hate that I sound like I’m complaining. This isn’t coming out right.
Why did this speech sound better in my head?
“Sometimes my life has felt like one disappointment after another. Not just with work, but with dating, too. And even though I work on romance for a living, I’ve basically stopped believing in it,” I admit, my gaze falling to the floor. Sure, I’ve told Elle how hard things have been in New York, and I’ve thought about how frustrated I am with my life there, but saying it like that, out loud, is surprisingly invigorating. It feels like an affirmation.
“The truth is, since I’ve been here, and since I’ve been spending time with you, I’ve felt so happy,” I say, my breath becoming more relaxed as I speak, as if I could feel the joy in my voice. “Before, when Anne gave me this opportunity, I couldn’t pass it up because it would lead to a promotion. And I’d been waiting for such a long time to feel recognized at work, to feel seen .”
Liam leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. He doesn’t look at me.
“So, you weren’t here on vacation? You were here to get yourself a promotion?” he asks, folding his hands under his chin and looking up at me.
God, why does he have to look so handsome when he does that? Why does the pain in his eyes make me want to kiss them, and feel his arms embrace me? How I wish I could reach out and stroke the stubble on his hard jawline, and iron out the tension that fills his face.
“I came here because of the promotion, yes, but when I got here, it became less about trying to prove myself to my boss and more about finding out who I really am.” I physically cringe at that statement. “I hate how cheesy that sounds, but it’s true. I have a lot I’ve been needing to process, and I haven’t been entirely honest with myself about what will make me happy.” I take a deep breath. “But being here… I think I’ve figured it out.”
Liam doesn’t speak, he’s just looking at me, his face guarded, unreadable. It’s only then that I realize I’m crying.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” I say. “I’m so sorry that I lied to you.” I shrug helplessly. “Yell at me, scream at me, I deserve it. But you have to know that I’ve been in knots about how to tell you for weeks . I wanted you to know the truth, because how I feel about you—” I say, my voice trailing off when I see his eyes redden. “Everything between us was real.”
Liam rubs both of his hands over his face and stands up abruptly. “I need some air. I can’t do this right now,” he says, running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath.
“Oh, I—um, okay. Do you want to talk later?” I say, pathetically.
“Lucy, I’m not even sure how to look at you right now,” he replies harshly. I inhale a sharp gasp at the tenor of his voice. Yelling and screaming would be easier than this.
“Please tell me what I can do to make this better. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” I say, my voice weak.
“Well,” he says, his eyes sharp as flint, “maybe you should plug it into your formula.” His voice drops to a mutter as he turns and heads for the door.
“Blue, come,” he commands, clipped and cold. The dog rises from the floor, casting me a brief, searching look before obediently following him out.
It’s impossible to put this feeling into words—the sensation of my heart sinking like a stone, heavy and leaden, dragging me down as I collapse into the kitchen chair.
I grab my notebook off the table and hurl it across the room. As is severing that connection, that lifeless bundle of paper, could somehow erase what I’ve done. But it doesn’t. I can’t undo this. I can’t rewrite it.
I came here chasing love, just not for myself. From the start, it was a business deal, a transaction, a means to an end. I always knew this trip had an expiration date, and I accepted it.
So why does it feel like I’ve become the villain in my own love story?
*
Al and Mella walk in to find me in the midst of a frantic cleaning spree. It hasn’t been more than a half hour since Liam left, but already I’ve packed my clothes, stripped the sheets, and emptied the fridge. Soon, there will be little trace of my presence.
“Lucy, is it alright if we come in, sweetie?” Mella calls from the front door, just as I round the corner out of the master bedroom with my last suitcase.
“Hi,” I say, dropping the bag by the front door. “Of course. This is your house. I am so sorry for the mix-up.” I rub the back of my hand against my forehead, exhausted by the events of the last hour. My whole body hurts, like I have the flu, only worse somehow. I feel like I could close my eyes and fall over, which is not a great feeling considering I have a very long drive home. I’m going to need some coffee.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I always said that Anne was a scatterbrain,” Al mutters, carrying his fanny pack to the kitchen.
“Can we persuade you to stay the night, and drive home tomorrow? You look a little—” Mella starts, but her voice fades and she gives me a pitying look.
“Like hell,” Al finishes for her.
“Al!” Mella yells, way too loudly.
“I don’t mean it offensively. But you certainly look like someone who has had a tough day,” he says, holding his hands up apologetically. I let out a mock laugh as Mella shakes her head at him.
“I guess that’s one way to describe it,” I quip, turning my head to look out the windows, gazing at Liam’s house.
“Don’t pack the car yet,” Mella says, taking a step toward me. I look at her, questioning. “I don’t mean to overstep,” she adds, her hands out like she is cautioning me against something. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I’ve known that boy for his whole life. You shouldn’t give up on him that quickly,” she says, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“I’m not giving up on him,” I say softly, taking her hand in mine.
“At least let him know you’re leaving. It can’t hurt.”
I blow air out through my lips, my stomach clenching with anxiety at the thought of walking across the street and talking to Liam. I look back at Al and Mella—Al shrugs his shoulders at me, but Mella looks at me encouragingly. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I reach out and embrace Mella, much to her surprise. Hudson Hollow has changed me; I hug people I barely know now. Whew, who would have thought?
I don’t make it more than two steps down the porch when I realize that Liam’s Jeep is no longer in the driveway. My shoulders deflate so heavily, I’m sure I might crumble to the ground. He’s gone.
None of this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t actually supposed to be a perfect small-town man that could lure me away from all my problems in the big city. He wasn’t supposed to look like a rugged, young Brad Pitt, and be the nicest, most caring person I’ve ever met. I feel like a balloon, the air inside me slowly deflating. A million thoughts race across my mind, all the what-ifs and maybes. But what’s done is done now, and I have nowhere to go but back to my old life.
*
I sit on the shoulder of the Highway of Hurling for a long time before I have the strength to keep driving. The rain is coming down even harder now, drumming against the roof and the windshield, the perfect cherry on top of this nightmare day. At this point, in this joke of a romance novel that has become my life, it should be raining. It seems unbelievable that I’m actually sitting here, a month or so after Anne sent me on this crazy expedition, in her car, 100 miles away from home, crying over a man I met a month ago.
This was my chance, and now I’ve let my very own happily ever after slip out of my grasp. Now I’m headed right back to where I started.
The hole in my stomach grows deeper as I drive down the main street of Hudson Hollow. I bring the car to a near halt outside of Liz’s. I try to force myself to keep going, but it’s like there’s a magnetic pull dragging me toward the building. I scan the parking lot, realizing that the Jeep I’m looking for isn’t there. He isn’t here.
And then I see Jill.
She’s helping the kids out from the backseat of her car. As soon as she lifts Robbie, he bolts toward the restaurant. Mia follows close behind, and my heart squeezes as I watch her carefully navigate the steps, cradling a baby doll in her arms that’s almost the same size as her.
I think about the character sketch I wrote yesterday on the hero’s cousin who lives next door. The character came out sounding just like Jill. From the first day I met her, I knew she was someone just trying to keep everyone afloat. But by no means was she the type to wallow in self-pity. Even when we spoke at Nora’s party, she said her husband leaving was more inconvenient than heartbreaking. I envied her bravery. She was confident in a way I feel like I will never be.
I pull into Liz’s parking lot and park beside Jill’s car. When she notices me, she smiles, warm and friendly.
“Hey, Luce,” she says, slinging her pocketbook over her shoulder.
“I have to tell you something,” I blurt out. Not my most glamorous intro.
She brushes a blonde curl out of her eyes and looks at me with concern.
“Is everything okay?” She looks inside, checking for the twins, who we can both see seated in a booth by the window. They’re pressing their faces against the glass at us. Robbie’s tongue is out.
“No, er, yes everyone is physically fine, but…” Ugh , why am I like this? I take a deep breath, trying to maintain eye contact as I explain the whole situation. “I haven’t been completely honest about why I’m here.”
I try to explain everything as succinctly as possible. I tell her about Anne, about the research, about Liam finding my notes. My voice becomes hoarse when I get to that part. Jill doesn’t interrupt me but she looks confused, twirling her keys around her finger.
“Wait, I don’t get it. You’re writing a book?” she asks when I finally stop talking.
“Not me, no. I came here to get ideas for someone else’s book,” I explain, hanging my head in shame as I speak.
“But why lie about it?” she asks, as if it’s the most obvious question in the world.
I wish my answer could be as clear-cut.
“It was part of the research, I guess it made sense to me at the time,” I say, and it feels like it’s not a good enough response. She blinks. “I felt weird about it from the beginning and I should have trusted my gut.” I occupy my attention with a small pebble, kicking it back and forth with my right foot.
“I’ve never regretted anything as much as I regret lying to Liam, to you, to everyone,” I say, meeting her eyes. “I betrayed his trust, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”
Jill frowns. She looks like she’s struggling to find the right thing to say. “Jill, I—” I start, but stop when Mia comes running toward us.
“Lucy! Come eat with us!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my legs, her doll still in the crook of her elbow. I look up at Jill, who purses her lips to one side, as if to urge me to explain myself to Mia.
I get down to Mia’s level and take her hands in mine.
“I can’t today, I’m sorry.” Mia sticks out her bottom lip at me. “I actually have to head home, so I may not see you for a little bit.”
“But you live here,” she says, swaying in my arms.
“I don’t, I have to go to—” I stop myself, choking down the lump in my throat, “my home in New York City.”
“When will you be back?” Mia asks petulantly. I glance at Jill and she lets out a gentle sigh.
“I’m not sure, but hey,” I say, touching my finger to her nose. “I had the mostest fun with you while I was here. Take good care of your mom, and make sure Robbie listens to her, yeah?” Mia nods her head excitedly.
“Go ahead inside, baby. I’ll be right there,” Jill says. I give Mia one last hug and watch her waddle back inside. After a moment I take a deep breath and say. “Jill, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
“Lucy,” she says, taking a step toward me. “I don’t know exactly what happened with you and Liam, but you brought him back to life these past few weeks. I’m not saying I’m not angry, or confused, because I am,” she says with a knowing look. She puts a hand on my shoulder. “But you reminded him that he still has room in his heart for someone, and I think he knows that.”
I swallow the lump that her words caused in my throat. She’s being too nice. Nicer than I deserve.
“I just want him to be happy, and not so hard on himself,” I whisper. “He needs you. He won’t admit it, but he does.”
Jill nods, and after a moment she reaches over and embraces me. Her arms wrap around my back and squeeze, and I feel the tears building, threatening to spill over. “Be well, Lucy. We’ll miss you.”
“Me too.”