CHAPTER NINE
Edward, eighteen
“Is it… terrible that I’m not sad he’s gone?”
I looked into my mom’s eyes and saw nothing but guilt.
I knew she was seeing the same in my eyes.
But the guilt was there for different reasons.
She felt guilty for not mourning him. I felt guilty because I’d killed him.
Still, both of our faces were free of tears.
“It’s fine, Mom. He wasn’t a very good husband.
Or father.” Her arm was linked through mine, and I pulled her closer to me.
We walked down the aisle of the church together in front of what felt like half of North Wixby.
I couldn’t believe so many people had come to his funeral.
I knew they weren’t here for my dad. People hadn’t liked him. All I could think was that they were here out of curiosity, or because they had a connection to Mom or me. I looked around, but the faces were a blur.
I felt numb. One minute I was asleep in Cara’s arms. The next, my life changed forever.
My father and I had yelled horrible things at each other.
He’d said more to me that night than he’d said to me in the previous six months.
It had taken me standing up to him for him to finally notice me.
I’d told him as much before I’d stormed out of the house, not caring if I ever saw him again.
And I wouldn’t. Because he’d died of a massive heart attack a few hours after our fight. I’d basically killed him by refusing to follow the plan he had laid out for me.
Ironically, his death locked me into the very plan he’d wanted for me.
Minus the whole Vanderbilt thing. For me, college would be part time here in Wixby.
There would be no following the love of my life to Charleston, either.
That had been made clear almost before Dad was cold on the examiner’s table.
The day after Dad died, the office manager of the orchard called me.
The meeting he asked me to attend hit me harder than Dad’s death.
It was then that I learned my father had not run the orchard well.
He micro-managed everything and refused to give over control of things like finances, distribution, human resources, sales, marketing, and more.
All things he hadn’t had a clue of how to manage.
That’s how I found out I’d inherited a mess.
Dad had almost single-handedly ruined the orchards the Ashton family had run for generations.
And I had to fix it. We had over a thousand employees that were counting on me to turn things around.
To make things right. And to keep them in the jobs that provided for their families.
No, Charleston was out for me. I’d lain awake the night before the funeral listening to the voice mails Cara had left for me. Again. And I re-read her texts almost obsessively.
But I hadn’t answered a single one. And I hadn’t called her back.
Because I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t drag her down.
I wouldn’t take away her dreams. She was at College of Charleston for orientation and meetings she couldn’t get out of since she was on scholarship.
But her communications with me were making it clear she was teetering on the edge of giving up her dreams to come be with me in Wixby.
And I couldn’t let that happen. I loved her too much for that.
I had finally given up on sleeping, sat up, put my feet on the floor, and dropped my head into my hands.
I stayed that way for what seemed like hours, trying to think of any other way to handle things.
I racked my brain trying to think of how she and I could still be together.
I could ask her to try a long distance relationship.
But I knew Cara. If it wasn’t working out, and I thought that was likely with how busy we were both about to be, she would sacrifice her own future to be with me no matter what I said.
So, I knew what I had to do. And that’s when the tears finally came.
They hadn’t fallen for the man who’d barely noticed me when he was alive and had only seen me as another person he could control, like my mom.
There were also no tears when I’d found out the mess the orchards were in, and that I was expected to fix it at eighteen with no college education and minimal training.
But when I’d realized that I had to cut Cara loose so that she’d fly high and be the star she was meant to be? Oh, I’d cried then.
Because I knew I’d never let her give up or delay her dreams for me.
I’d heard the adage that if you loved someone you had to let them go.
If they came back to you, it was meant to be.
If they didn’t? They were never yours to begin with.
I’d seen it on posters before and thought the saying was cheesy.
But now I knew what it meant. I felt it in my soul. Eighteen was too young to make such a monumental discovery. But eighteen was too young for a lot of things I was about to have to face.
If Cara and I were meant to be, we’d find our way back to each other. But my heart literally felt like it was breaking inside me. I was in actual physical pain. Because deep down I knew. If I let her go now, I wasn’t likely to ever get her back.
This would be it for us. I knew it, and yet I couldn’t stop it from happening. Once again, I didn’t feel as if I was in control of my own life. I loved her, yet I was the one who had to make sure she moved on from me.
And I was dreading it.
“Oh, look. There are the Hargraves and the Whittakers.” Mom broke me out of my reverie and gave them a sad little wave, but I didn’t look over there. I kept my view straight ahead, staring at my father’s casket set up near the pulpit. “Honey, didn’t you want to say anything to Cara?”
I didn’t look down at Mom. I didn’t want her to see the pain in my eyes. “I’m sure I’ll talk to her later.” I directed her into the pew that had been reserved for us. It was pitiful. Just me and Mom. Dad was gone. So were his parents. Mom’s parents, who I’d been close to, were also gone.
I was surprised when I felt someone else come and sit beside me. I turned my head and smiled for the first time in a week.
“Hey, man. I finally got away from all that freshman meet and greet bullshit.” Lufton’s teal eyes were full of concern as he gave me a hug.
Besides Cara and my mom, he was the only one who knew the whole story behind my dad’s sudden heart attack.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” he whispered in my ear before pulling away.
The preacher started his sermon then, and it was easy to do nothing but stare straight in front of me.
I didn’t hear a word he said. All I could think about was what I was going to say to Cara. Based on her messages and texts, she was leaning towards staying home and majoring in dance at Barry College here in Wixby. To be close to me. And I was going to have to convince her to leave instead.
I was able to avoid her through the service and the graveside burial. But my luck ran out at the reception we had at our house afterwards.
I caught a whiff of her scent before I saw her—that intoxicating blend of flowers and sunshine that would always remind me of summer.
I turned and there she was, so gorgeous that I sucked in my breath at the sight of her.
Before I knew it, she was in my arms and I was clinging to her.
I buried my face in her neck, one hand in her silky hair while the other pulled her closer to me.
“Do you blame me? I know the fight was about you leaving with me. Is that why you haven’t called me back? Or texted me? I feel awful about the whole thing…”
I pulled back and held her face in my hands. “No.” I cut her off. “Never think that. Not for a minute.”
“Then why? Why have you ignored me?” Her green eyes were shiny with tears, and I felt like the worst person alive.
“I just… needed to be by myself for a while.”
A bewildered frown creased her forehead. “By yourself.”
I nodded. “I can’t do the whole girlfriend thing right now.
I’m going to be too busy.” Hurt and disbelief flashed over her beautiful features.
I had to look anywhere but at her. Her face was killing me.
So, I looked at my watch as if I had somewhere to be that was more important than her.
I had to convince her things were over. “You should go back to school,” I said and started walking away from her.
She grabbed my arm. “I got permission to stay for a week,” she sounded confused.
“I want to be here for you. I want to help you and your mom.” I was glad I was facing away from her.
She would have read the truth in my face—that I’d love for her to be here with me for the next week.
Instead, I tried to look nonchalant as I turned back to her.
“I have plenty of help.” I gestured to the group of college-aged women who surrounded my mom at one of the food tables.
They had come out of the woodwork, it seemed, when they realized I was going to be around Wixby instead of moving away for college.
It was overwhelming. I couldn’t remember their names or faces.
But Cara didn’t know that.
“Oh.”
I heard the insecurity in her voice as she registered how all the women were looking at me like I was their next meal.
Her eyes locked on one girl, and the vulnerability I suddenly saw on her face almost broke my heart. “Is that… the girl who came over with Declan’s friend over the summer?”
“What?” I took a closer look at the group of women, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t already spotted sexy Sara.
She stood out with her bright blonde hair and a ruby red dress that was so low cut her tits were about to fall out.
At a funeral. Who wears something like that?
“Oh, yeah. Sara MacAllister. She called and offered to help serve food today.”