Chapter 46
It’s not a wedding gazebo
Gage
To: Zoey
From: Gage
Subject: Disco apology
Dear Zoey,
I wake up in the middle of the night trying to catch my breath because I keep seeing your face by the bonfire that night.
You did exactly the right thing before anyone else even reacted, and I panicked and stupidly blamed you for the situation.
I’ve spent so much of my life trying to do the right thing.
Yet when it came to the person who matters the most to me (you, if that wasn’t clear), I self-destructed and made a colossal mistake.
I keep reliving it. The pain I caused so unnecessarily.
I don’t blame you for not forgiving me. What I did came from a place I didn’t even know existed inside me.
A wound that needs to be exorcised, according to Opal, who told me that and then hit me with an unbaked potato.
Her brand of unofficial therapy is…painful.
At the bonfire that night, I was looking for you. Because I’m always looking for you. I saw you with my sister, and I was thinking about how well you fit with my family. Like you’re the missing piece I’d been waiting for. Then I saw Valerie, and it made me think of our other missing piece.
Miller and I weren’t as close as he was with Cam and Levi at first. I was the tagalong little brother when we were growing up.
But I was the one he asked to take care of his family while he was deployed.
We were both intense, cautious, responsible people who always tried to do the right thing. And now he’s gone.
I wasn’t able to protect Laura from that.
I wasn’t able to protect Audrey from her ex.
You noticed she was in danger before anyone else did. Before me. She came to me to protect her from him. But all my legal filings and papers didn’t stop him from trying to hurt her in front of their kids. The law failed her. I failed her. Doing the “right thing” wasn’t good enough.
But you barely knew her, yet you ran to her rescue.
Instead of acknowledging how brave you were and how you saved Audrey’s life, all I could see was you running away from me and toward danger. The most important person in my life, and I couldn’t protect you. Or Audrey. Or Laura.
So I did the stupidest thing possible and used your worst fears and beliefs against you. I made you feel like you were the problem. Even though we both know it was me.
A lifetime of doing the “right thing.” Of making every effort to avoid mistakes.
None of it was good enough to keep the people I love safe.
So I took it out on you when you did nothing wrong.
Since I met you, I’ve learned that the world isn’t as black-and-white as I always thought it was.
It’s not gray either. It’s every color, and you’re the one who showed me that. You and your damn disco ball.
I’ve been living my life, as my brothers would say, with a “clenched asshole,” trying to be good enough to stop the bad from happening instead of accepting that the bad is inevitable and usually out of our control. I should have understood that without the bad, the good would be taken for granted.
I won’t take you for granted again, Zoey.
I can’t promise I won’t be an unevolved moron ever again, but I can promise you I will spend my life working to be the kind of man who not only deserves you but that you deserve.
I will make it my life’s mission to be that man for you… even if you don’t forgive me.
I’m asking for a second chance even though it’s well within your rights to tell me to fuck off.
That doesn’t stop me from hoping or trying though.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go continue my groveling tour at the courthouse, because you taught me the value of vulnerability, and I think I finally know how to save Valerie.
Story Lake isn’t the same without you. I miss you. I’m sorry.
Love,
Gage
Me: Cam told me not to tell you because he’s afraid of you, but since he’s flying out to meet you and Hazel in Houston, Buttercup is having a sleepover at my house. Please enjoy this picture of all three dogs on your side of the bed. No skunks allowed. Miss you. Love you.
Me: Today, in between dodging potatoes thrown at me by everyone who identifies as Team Zoey (the entire town), I talked to Billie and Hana.
They told me the lodge is completely booked through mid-August. Their reservation system crashed twice after Reader Weekend with people trying to book the rest of the summer. They’re calling it “the Zoey effect.”
Me: Goddammit. Nana taught Buttercup and Meetcute how to chase skunks. I smell. They smell. Here’s a picture of them all crammed in the sink together. I hate everything except you. I miss you.
Me: Buttercup misses you and so do I. See our matching sad faces?
Me: Obviously you told Cam that I told you I was watching your dog because he just kicked my ass with a piece of leftover drywall.
I deserved it. He also said you met a swarthy European prince with a mustache and that you’re moving to a country I’ve never heard of to join the royal family.
I think he was lying, but just to be on the safe side, I’m willing to grow a mustache if it brings you home.
Me: That piece in Thrive on you, Hazel, and Story Lake is working its magic. Darius has three house showings next week, and Angelo’s had to start a waiting list Saturday night. First time in history.
Me: I don’t know if I can do this whole “life” thing without you. And not just because people keep throwing potatoes at me. The Warblers chased me out of the Fish Hook yesterday with an a cappella version of “All Too Well.” The 10-minute version.
Me: Audrey’s ex didn’t make bail, so he’ll be in jail until the assault trial. Just thought you’d like to know that Audrey and the kids are safe for the foreseeable future.
Me: It’s 2 a.m. All I can think about is how much I miss Miller. How much I miss who Laura used to be. How much I miss you. The worst part is knowing I’m missing you because I broke us.
Me: Cam told me you were going to stay in Story Lake. I can’t believe that I so carelessly ruined that chance at an HEA. (I’ve been reading some of Hazel’s books and trying not to sympathize too much with the heroes during their dumbassery.)
Me: I’m risking life and limb here to tell you first, Disaster.
I went to the courthouse and threw myself on the mercy of the DA.
I accepted responsibility for pressuring her to press charges against Valerie in the first place, groveled for forgiveness, and admitted that I’d selfishly used my pain to inflict an unfair punishment on others.
That one horrible mistake shouldn’t cost another family a parent.
Tarini, understandably, let me have it, then kicked me out of her office so she could think.
She called me with a plea deal three minutes ago while I was meeting with Valerie at my office.
Careless driving unintentional death. No fucking jail time.
Valerie accepted (and told me I could tell you).
Someone is cutting fucking onions in here.
Even Declan has to keep pausing to blow his nose while he celebrates with The Princess Bride sword fight choreography.
Buttercup is Inigo Montoya. DON’T TELL LAURA I TOLD YOU FIRST.
Me: I love how proud you look in the background of every picture of Hazel on social media.
(Not that I’m stalking you online. I mean, I am, but in a noncreepy way.) A sold-out tour and a #1 bestseller.
And you made it all happen. You’re a miracle for all of us.
I’m so proud of you. I wish we were celebrating together.
Me: Come home, Zoey. Nothing feels right without you.
Me: Please have dinner with me when you get back.
I pulled into Cam and Hazel’s driveway to the sound of power tools. Meetcute trotted over to greet Nana and Buttercup before the three of them darted off into the flowery front yard.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Ruins Everything by Being a Dumbass,” Cam said, tossing the newly cut piece of treated lumber onto the nearby stack in front of the garage.
“You’re just mad that I stole your title,” I said, kicking at the leg of one of two sawhorses holding a simple craftsman-style arch. “What the hell is this? A gazebo?”
Cam yanked off his safety glasses and scowled. “It’s not a wedding gazebo. It’s a wedding pergola. I didn’t chop down any fucking trees. I bought the wood from a lumber mill like a normal human. And if you say the word gazebo in front of Hazel, I will screw you to the top of it.”
“Okay. This sounds like something I don’t have enough context for. So let’s start with what’s a wedding gazebo?”
“It’s a wedding pergola!” Cam snarled.
I picked up the sketch half pinned under his cooler and studied it while he fired up the circular saw again to finish the last support. According to the drawing, it would be a simple but elegant arched pergola just big enough for two people and an officiant to stand under.
When the saw cut off again, I put the drawing down and eyed my brother. “Can I ask why a wedding pergola is pissing you off so much? You lose a bet or something?”
“There was no bet. Hazel just suggested early on that I was going to get so attached to her, I’d build her a wedding gazebo.”
Still not understanding the problem, I gestured at the drawing. “Well, clearly she was wrong. This is a pergola, not a gazebo.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t have enough room for a gazebo back here. Figured I’d make a pergola. We’ll carve all our names and wedding dates in it and then hang a swing for the kids.”
I blinked. “All our names?”
He shrugged. “If I’m making it, the rest of you pains in my ass might as well use it too. Make it a family tradition or some shit like that. What? No law-school-smarty comeback?”
“I’m too busy looking for obvious evidence of an alien abduction.”
“Fuck you.”
“Seriously, Cam, this is really…something. Mom’s going to cry when she sees it.”
“She better once we hang this,” he said, tossing me a flat, arched board with the words Happily Ever After carved into it.
“Fuck,” I said, fighting the tightness in my throat. I wanted to be there to see Cam and Hazel exchange vows and start their ever after. I wanted my own. “I need your help.”
“It’s about fucking time.”
“You don’t even know what I need,” I complained.
“You wanna get Zoey back,” he announced, digging through the tool tote on his tailgate.
“I love her. I fucked up. And she won’t let me argue my case. She doesn’t give second chances. But I need one. So how do I get one without crossing a line and making it worse?”
“You haul that over here,” Cam said, jerking his chin at the pergola arch.
Grumbling, I hefted it over my shoulder and staggered after him into the yard. Peonies and azaleas swayed in the gentle breeze. Climbing vines meandered up and over the fence. “Are you just going to con free labor out of me and then tell me to get the fuck out of your face?”
“Yep. But first I might actually help you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Do you really want to be with Zoey? Or do you just feel guilty for hurting her?”
“Cam, I can’t fucking sleep at night because my sheets smell like her.
I’m working in the conference room because I keep remembering what we did on my desk.
She made my life fun and exciting and unpredictable, and I should have hated that, but I didn’t.
I’ve been missing out on everything, just trying to stay in control, trying to make everything make sense.
I fucking love her, and I hurt her, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to forgive myself for that. ”
Cam grunted. “Maybe you’re not totally hopeless.” He helped me lower the arch to the grass.
“What if I’m not good enough for her? What if I don’t deserve a second chance?”
Cam clamped a hand on my shoulder, “Welcome to the club.”
“What club?”
“The club of men who know they’re not good enough for their women so we dedicate all our resources to making them forget that. By recognizing your huge and obvious inadequacies, you have made yourself slightly more worthy.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“Zoey is out of your league. Like way out.”
“You’re not making me feel better. If I’m such a bag of shit, isn’t it wrong to try to convince her to give me another chance?”
“You’re asking for a chance to be a better person with her. You’re asking for a chance to grow into someone who’s good enough for her. You’ll do better by her, right?”
“God, yes. I’ll do anything. I’ll build her a stable for her shoes. I’ll schedule every oil change and inspection for the rest of our lives. I’ll move to New York.”
The shrill cry of a bird accompanied a dark shadow above us.
“Do not shit on this wedding pergola, Goose,” Cam ordered.
The rebel eagle acted like he hadn’t heard and swooped dramatically lower over us.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, shading my eyes against the sun as Goose released something from his talons.
The object fluttered to the ground, landing on my boot.
“If you don’t know a bra when you see one, I’ve got my work cut out for me,” Cam complained as I picked up the sparkly pink bra. Zoey’s bra. A little worse for the wear with streaks of dirt and missing a few crystals, but it was unmistakably hers.
All three dogs came running, barking deliriously as the eagle completed one last lazy circle over us.
Cam cheerfully clapped me on the back. “If Goose thinks you’re good enough, then you’ve officially earned an audience with the expert.”
“The expert had better not be you.”
“It’s not. And it’s not Levi either. But you should text him to come help with the pergola in case he ever finds a woman willing to marry a man who uses up all his words by breakfast.”
Me: Cam gave me permission to reach out and grovel. I need your expertise.
Hazel: What expertise is that, Shithead McCrapFace?
Me: I’m in love with Zoey. I know you’re just as mad at me as she is. I know I fucked up. But I also know she’s my one. I’m hers. Please help me fix this.
Hazel: Hmm, I’ll think about it.
Me: Would it help if I bribed you with some romantic inspiration?
Hazel: Hmm. I do like bribes.
Me: Here’s a picture of what Goose just returned to me after I professed my love for Zoey and said I’d be willing to move to New York and build her an entire apartment-sized closet for shoes.
Hazel: Goose returned her sparkle bra???
Me: Seems like a sign, right? I’m willing to do anything for a second chance with her.
Hazel: Hold please…
Zoey: Fine. Since you can’t seem to take a hint, I’ll go to dinner with you.
But only because Hazel says it’s a good way to tell you all the reasons you’re a shit waffle.
I started a note on my phone so I won’t forget any.
Oh, and it better be a good dinner and not some high-protein, bullshit meal prep dinner.