Chapter 16 #2
“I don’t want a refund. I want to stay for the week. Hook me up with another cabin if mine isn’t available. Who’s here this year?” He cranes his neck to survey the campground. “What about Stefan? I bet he’s not sharing with anybody.”
“No, he isn’t because he prefers a solo cabin, which he paid for.”
Charlie steps an inch closer to Patrick. “It sounds like camp is full, buddy.”
Patrick’s gaze slides to me, clearly assessing the situation. He may be a cowardly twat, but he isn’t stupid. “Why don’t I take your cabin, Cricket? It’ll be like old times, except you can stay at your house if you’d prefer—or not.” His flirtatious smile heats my blood to a boil.
“I stay at camp with everybody else during the season, you know that.”
“Then I’ll stay at the house. You’ve got the space, and I don’t mind the walk.”
“You don’t seem to have heard her.” Charlie’s right; he has a good couple inches on Patrick, in height and other respects that I really don’t want to think about right now. “Consider this the little town of Bethlehem,” Charlie continues, “and there’s no room at the inn.”
I feel the churn of testosterone in the ether and realize this could quickly spiral into a physical confrontation if I don’t intervene.
“Patrick, if you’d like to discuss this further, you can meet me in my office.” I shoot a pleading look at Charlie. “Alone. Take it or leave it.”
I sprint to my office ahead of him and slam the door behind me. I’m so deep in my head, I don’t register the young girl seated behind my desk.
“What’s wrong?” Olivia asks.
I snap back to reality. “What are you doing in here?”
“I got bored.” She splays her hands across the desk. “I like pretending I’m a corporate executive.”
I laugh. “In this office, you’re definitely pretending.”
“You have a lot of papers. Can I organize them for you?”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” I feel guilty using a child as a shield, but desperate times…
The door opens, thus concluding my moment to collect myself.
“New assistant?” Patrick asks.
“This is Ben’s granddaughter, Olivia.”
“Yes, we met by the lake. I didn’t know he had a granddaughter.”
Typical Patrick. Too self-absorbed to remember important details about other people.
“My parents are getting divorced,” Olivia announces. “That’s the reason I’m here this year.”
“What a coincidence. Kind of why I’m here too.” Patrick shifts his focus to me. “Can we talk in private?”
“This is camp, Patrick. There’s not much privacy to be had.”
The corners of his mouth hitch up. “I wouldn’t say that. You and I managed it.”
It takes all my willpower not to haul off and punch him square in his square jaw. “Olivia, would you mind giving us a few minutes?” I grind out.
“Close the door behind you,” Patrick calls after her.
“Are your hands broken? Close it yourself,” Olivia shoots back as she flees, leaving the door wide open. I don’t make a habit of choosing favorite campers, but right now she’s definitely mine.
As Patrick shuts the door, I move to stand behind my desk, desperate to put a large, heavy object between us. Then again, this might be the moment I discover my superhuman strength and hurl the furniture at him. It’s an unlikely outcome to this conversation, but stranger things have happened.
“You look great, Cricket.”
“Flattery won’t get you a cabin that doesn’t exist.”
His gaze drops to the desk, as though he’s trying to figure out a way to remove the large, heavy obstacle between us. “I had hoped to come last week, but I had things I couldn’t get out of.”
Bile rises in my throat. “No doubt.”
He zeroes in on me. “My relationship is officially over, so one of us had to move. I drew the short straw.”
His revelation sends shock waves through me. I try to act unaffected, but my legs betray me and force my butt into the chair. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Are you?” He looks at me with that expression I know so well. The one that teased me and tempted me with promises he had no intention of keeping.
“It’s always sad when a relationship ends.”
“Not this one. We weren’t right for each other.”
“Did you actually tell her that, or did you move all your stuff out when she was at work?”
He huffs, somehow offended that I would suggest such a cowardly move. “I guess I deserve that. We can both agree that communication hasn’t been my strong suit, but I’m here now.”
“Which begs the question—why?”
“Because I miss you, and I want you back. I waited until I was officially moved out to come here because I knew you wouldn’t believe me otherwise.”
“You assumed it would be that easy? That I’d be here waiting for you after two years?”
“We can be together now. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He splays his hands on the desk and leans forward with that penetrating gaze of his. When he looks at me like that, I feel naked and exposed—but not in a good way.
“It was what I wanted two years ago, before I figured out the kind of man you really are.”
His eye twitches. “I didn’t cheat, Cricket. I know you think I did, but Janessa and I weren’t exclusive when you and I hooked up. She and I started seeing each other a couple weeks before I came to camp. I didn’t expect—us to happen.”
“You could’ve told me about her instead of pulling a Houdini.”
“I was confused. I got home and I didn’t know what to do.”
“You obviously made your choice.”
“For the wrong reasons, I see that now. Janessa lived locally to me. It was easier to maintain a relationship with her.”
The easy button pretty much sums up Patrick’s entire personality.
“Why did you register last year and not show up?”
“Janessa and I hit a rough patch, but we made up before I was due to leave. I didn’t feel right about spending time with you.
I was afraid my feelings would resurface.
” He pushes to an upright position again.
“The guy who treated you that way—that isn’t who I am anymore.
I messed up, Cricket, but I’m in a much better place now. ”
I fold my arms. “Interesting. All these words coming out of your mouth, yet ‘sorry’ hasn’t been one of them.”
“You want me on my knees? Because I’ll do that.” He moves to my side of the desk and lowers himself to the floor. “I’m sorry, Courtney. I’m sorry for the misery I put you through. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”
It took me a long time to erase his image from my mind, and now his reappearance was dragging that old trauma to the surface. I thought I’d healed it, but maybe I’d simply stored it away in an emotional trunk for later use.
“If I’d told you about Janessa, you would’ve assumed I was cheating and then you and I wouldn’t have happened. Can you blame me for staying quiet about her?”
Laughter rips from my throat. “Yes, Patrick. I absolutely can.”
“I felt horrible about ghosting you. If I could take it back, I would. The way I handled the situation was a mistake and I regret it. My therapist said I use women to fill the emptiness inside me. That you were a placeholder for everything missing within myself.”
“How long have you been seeing a therapist?”
“Nine months. It’s going well. He’s helped me understand my behavior. I’ve already seen a huge difference in how I handle situations.”
“But you couldn’t save your relationship?”
“It was through therapy that I came to the conclusion I didn’t want to. Neither did Janessa, for that matter. We weren’t a good fit. In two years, we managed to grow apart instead of together. In hindsight, I should’ve chosen you, but I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of disappointing you. I worried that a relationship with you would require more than I could give and that you’d eventually figure it out and leave me.” Then Patrick does something totally unexpected.
He cries.
The next thing I know, I’m comforting him like he’s the wronged party. “I never meant to hurt you. You know how screwed up my childhood was. Apparently, I have something called a mother wound.”
I remember Patrick’s stories of an absentee mom and a workaholic dad. It’s difficult not to feel sorry for the boy who had no control over his chaotic upbringing.
He slides his fingers through my hair. “Every bit as soft as I remember,” he murmurs. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed about holding you again.”
“Technically I’m holding you.” And now I sound like Charlie.
The intrusive thought of Charlie Thorpe shocks me like a live wire. I jolt out of Patrick's reach.
“What is it?” Patrick asks in a soothing tone.
“I think you should leave.” I spent a full year carrying around a box of tissues wherever I went, knowing that at some point during my waking hours, a memory would surface that triggered waterworks.
It was incredible how quickly the place I’d been born and raised became associated with a man who sought to claim my heart and then proceeded to shatter it into a million pieces.
“I thought we were having a moment.”
“And now the moment’s over.”
He tilts his head, eyeing me in that intimately familiar way of his. “Am I leaving your office or the campground?”
I sense his neediness. The camp is meant to be a welcoming space for everyone; we’re the Ellis Island of misfits. As much as it pains me, I hear myself say, “You can stay. I’ll speak to Hunter.”
“Cool. Glad to hear he’s back this year. And what about us?”
“There is no ‘us,’ Patrick. There never really was.”
“That isn’t true, and you know it. Remember how good we were together? Our long walks through the woods. Our moonlight swims.”
“Of course I remember.” And that’s why I hate the reminder. The fond memories are the reason it took me so long to get over him. Whenever my anger unfurled, it would be diminished by the happy thoughts I cherished. My brain had a way of blocking out his bad behavior and only focusing on the good.
His fingers brush my cheek. “See? You still have feelings for me. I know you do.”