Chapter 19 #2
No. I’d shown her the problems with the proposal. The way it would impact the forest and the animals. She’d asked questions. Good ones. She’d listened, and I could have sworn she’d understood my point. That she’d understood me.
Shit. It was way too personal.
I ran my hands through my hair and tugged hard at the roots. I couldn’t help but think of that asshole she’d been about to marry. The way he’d talked to her, the way he’d treated her like part of the deal. Nothing more than a means to an end.
And somehow, even knowing all of that, Jess was still willing to move forward with the very thing Trevor cared most about.
Because it sure as hell wasn’t her.
He didn’t care about her like I—fuck.
I kicked a stone, sending it skittering across the bricks, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to punch something, rage against all of it, unleash the frustration that was brewing and threatening to consume me.
Summit barked, the puppy running alongside me, looking for attention. Instantly, I felt bad.
“Sorry, buddy.” I bent to scratch his ears. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—”
“Preston?”
I turned at the voice to see Chase watching me. Before I straightened, I blew out a breath in an effort to pull myself together.
“You okay?” he asked when I turned to face him.
“Do I look okay?”
He stepped closer, coming to a stop beside me. “No.” He shook his head. “You seem a bit…”
“Upset?”
“I was going to say passionate.” Chase chuckled a little. “I know that wasn’t what you were hoping to hear,” he continued. “But she made her decision. You don’t have to agree with it, but you do need to respect it.”
“Do I?” I spat out and instantly regretted it. I was being an ass, and that wasn’t fair. “Sorry,” I added.
He nodded, as if he understood all the nuances of what I was feeling when he couldn’t possibly understand just how personal it all was.
“She’s not wrong,” he said after a moment. “There are ways to make it work.”
“That’s not the point,” I said, some of the anger fading away.
“And what exactly is the point, Pres? Because I thought that’s exactly what we were trying to accomplish here.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, because how exactly was I supposed to explain to him that it wasn’t about the development, the proposal, or rerouted trails? Not anymore.
I’d stood beside her when she needed me most, and that felt a whole hell of a lot bigger than I wanted to admit. It was hard to feel like she’d reached for me in her time of need and then walked right past me when it mattered.
The worst part was that she didn’t look surprised by my reaction.
She’d looked prepared for it.
I shook my head and turned away from Chase.
“You coming back in?” he asked after a moment.
“Does it matter?”
“You know it does, Preston.”
He was right. No matter how this vote went, I needed to make my point clear. I owed it to my town to fight for what was right.
“Just give me a minute, okay? I’ll be right there.”
Chase nodded and walked away, leaving me there to collect myself.
I stayed outside until I trusted myself to hold it together.
When I finally pushed the door open and stepped back into the meeting, Jess looked up.
Our eyes met.
And it was clear. Whatever it was that was sitting between us now was bigger than a simple vote.
Jess
The vote passed.
It wasn’t unanimous, of course, but no one expected it would be.
Still, our little committee didn’t have any other choice but to recommend to the council that the development move forward.
With our recommended changes, of course.
The environmental buffers and trail protections were written into a revised proposal instead of being treated like an afterthought.
Chairs scraped back from the table. Our little group was quiet, the easy camaraderie we’d created out on the trails shattered by Preston’s earlier outburst.
Not that I’d been surprised. Maybe I should have given him a heads-up about my decision. But it wouldn’t have changed the outcome.
Across the table, Preston had only looked at me once since he’d returned to his seat.
Our eyes had met briefly, and then he’d shut me out completely.
After that, his focus stayed fixed on the coffee he hadn’t touched.
Not even when Chase summarized the outcome of our vote, and Tilley announced with a flourish that our committee was disbanded.
Not once.
Obviously he wasn’t going to be happy with how it went, but I hadn’t expected him to be so closed off and angry. I hadn’t expected him to shut me out so completely.
It hurt, even if I couldn’t fully explain why.
“Preston?” I stepped closer to him, lowering my voice.
He froze, as if he were trying to decide whether he should acknowledge me at all. Finally, he looked at me.
The hurt in his eyes landed harder than his anger from earlier.
“I thought maybe we…” I stopped myself, unsure how to say what I needed to. “I should have said something to you,” I tried again. “Before the meeting, I mean.”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “Maybe.”
He turned and walked away without another word, and that felt worse. I waved at the others as they filed out of the coffee shop after him.
I waited until I was alone before I sank back down into my seat and stared at the table.
I’d gone over it a hundred times. I’d voted the way I believed was right. It wasn’t about anything else. Not Trevor. Not my investment. And definitely not Preston. Or whatever had happened between us.
It was about the town and what I truly thought was best for Trickle Creek and the future.
But I couldn’t shake the way Preston looked at me with such hurt and betrayal in his eyes, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe I’d gotten it wrong.
Or worse, maybe in the process of doing the right thing, I’d lost something I wasn’t ready to let go of yet.