Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Cordelia
The words sound harsher once they hit the air than they did in my head, but I don’t take them back.
“Okay.” Renthrow shifts backward, flinching like I shot him. “If that’s how you feel then…” He seems to lose his train of thought and takes another step back. “Maybe I was too hasty.”
I take a tiny step toward him. Every part of me wants to reach out and unveil my heart. To test if he meant it when he said he trusts me. To tell him everything.
“You think you deserve happiness?”
“I’m going to find you wherever you are and remind you.”
I don’t want Ray here, in Lucky Falls. I don’t want him anywhere near Gordie or Renthrow.
My feet scrape to a stop.
I allow myself to go no farther.
It’s better this way. Better that I feel a brief taste of happiness only to have it ripped away.
It’s what I did to Gwen.
And it’s what I deserve too.
Even so, I can’t help the emotions balling in my throat. Seeing Renthrow turn his back on me makes me want to cling to him.
“Renthrow,” I whisper.
He hears me because he stops, but he doesn’t turn around. “I need some time to think. I-I’ll call you.”
He won’t.
I know it deep in my bones. His ex-wife hurt him deeply, and there’s no way he’s making the same choice twice.
There’s no coming back from this.
After Renthrow leaves, I force myself to go back to work, but I can’t concentrate. April and Rebel return from lunch to find me staring unseeingly into the hood of a car.
“Cordelia, are you okay?” April touches my shoulder.
I swallow hard. “Y-yeah. I’m fine. I, uh, didn’t get that much sleep last night.”
“You look pale.” Rebel puts her manicured hand to my forehead and gasps. “Cordelia, you’re burning up.”
“I’ll be fine. I just have to eat something.”
“You didn’t eat lunch?” April looks horrified. “Come over here and sit down. I brought some leftovers. I know you don’t like red meat, but you can eat the potatoes.”
“Really, I’m fine,” I say faintly.
But my bosses will have none of it. They drag me to a chair and force me to sit. Rebel wets a rag and wipes the table near her workstation. Then she sets a clean, pink handkerchief down.
April brings a takeout container from The Tipsy Tuna and forces a spoon into my hand. “Use this. It’s clean.”
Rebel uncaps a bottle of water for me.
I eat, sensing that my bosses will only be satisfied when I do. However, my head is pounding, and I give up on acting strong.
“I still don’t feel well,” I admit. “I think it’s better if I go home.”
“Of course,” April says.
“Do you need me to drive you?” Rebel offers.
“I think I can make it.”
Rebel insists, “I’ll call my cousin who runs a taxi. You shouldn’t ride your bike right now.”
Despite my protests, Rebel practically shoves me into a taxi, and April stands outside my door, warning me that she’ll call tonight to check on me.
I give my bosses an appreciative smile and head home. The moment I get to my apartment, I collapse into the sofa and curl my knees against my chest.
My thoughts are on my sister. The last time I saw Gwen, we were fighting. Brennon had just rejected me, and I knew it was because of his love for her. I was cruel, intentionally twisting the knife in to make her hurt the way I was hurting.
And I had no idea that she’d flown all the way back home to tell me she was pregnant.
I push myself up and drag myself to the kitchen. Shaking out the sleeping pills, I knock them back and return to the couch. Once I lie down, I squeeze my eyes shut and beg for sleep to come, but it won’t.
I’m stuck there, remembering the way my sister’s eyes crystallized with hurt before she walked out of my life for the last time.
April calls later that night, and the moment she hears my voice, she insists I take tomorrow off, as well.
I fight her tooth and nail. Staying home, staring at these walls, is driving me absolutely insane.
But April banishes me from The Pink Garage for another twenty-four hours, and since she’s my boss, I tuck my tail between my legs and back off. I count the hours until my banishment is up, and the next day, I practically beg to return to work.
April senses my desperation and allows me to come back. However, things are not the same. My bosses coddle me, fuss over me, and remain in the garage for lunch to oversee me taking my medicine along with my food.
I appreciate their concern, but it’s a little embarrassing. What they don’t understand is that my body is fine. It’s my heart that has the problem.
Later, I drag myself home and fall into the couch again.
And again, I stare at the ceiling with no hope of sleep.
Around midnight, I pick up my phone and stare at the last text Renthrow sent me. The time stamp reads “one day ago.”
Twenty-four hours feels like an eternity.
I roll to my side and let my thoughts roam. Should I have told him the truth? Should I have told him that for the first time since my sister died, I saw myself having a family? Should I have told him I want to build a life with him and Gordie?
Everything I said to him—about not wanting to be a wife and mother was true…before I met him.
But now…
I shake my head. I care about Renthrow too much to drag him into the chaos with Ray. I know how important that future is to him. I know how important Gordie is to him. And Ray is so unpredictable. I can’t let him get close to them. I don’t know what he’ll do.
I lift my hand and remember the way Renthrow slid his thumb over my finger as if, in his dreams, I wore his ring. The night we met Brennon at the restaurant, Renthrow practically glowed when he talked about his dreams of having a big family and loud get-togethers during Christmas and holidays.
He deserves that. More than anyone.
Why am I suffering like this?
Feeling like I’m about to lose my mind, I get on my bike as I always do. It’s the only refuge I’ve ever known. I drive through Lucky Falls, trying to empty my mind.
At first, I don’t notice where I am.
Then I start recognizing familiar landmarks.
This is…Renthrow’s neighborhood.
Up ahead, Renthrow’s house rises in view. I squeeze the brakes and stop the bike abruptly. If I get any closer, Renthrow will hear my bike rumbling through the night.
I don’t want to disturb him.
I only want…
What? What is it that I want? Does it even matter? I can’t have what I want anyway, so it’s better not to want it in the first place.
I stare longingly at the house. Gordie’s probably asleep in her Hello Kitty pajamas. Renthrow’s probably watching one of his cooking videos as he prepares for the training camp at the stadium. Or maybe he’s doing meal prep for Gordie’s luxury lunch boxes.
I wish I could drop in and eat a meal with him. The best sleep I ever had was on Renthrow’s couch.
What are you doing, Cordelia?
Stalking. Stalking is what I’m doing.
Turning my bike around, I return to my cold, empty apartment and my tired little couch.