Willow
willow
T he candlelight flickered in the center of the table, casting shadows over everyone’s faces. Ronan was right beside me, his warm, strong thigh pressed firmly against mine. If you looked at him, he was the picture of calm and collected, but if you knew him, you’d know he was on the verge of losing it.
His finger tapped against the white tablecloth, his other leg bouncing wildly. His lips moved almost imperceptibly as he silently counted to seven, took a breath, and started again.
“Oh!” Lydia said, throwing her arm into the air. Her words had already been slurred when they showed up an hour ago, and since then, she’d only gotten more drunk. “We went to your little bakery today. It was adorable. So small and quaint.”
“A bit dusty,” Vanessa said into her glass.
“You know, you’ll never move up in a place like that,” Dad said. “You have nowhere to go. You can’t grow. You’ll be stuck in the same position forever.”
I stared at him. “I love my job, and I’m good at it.”
Vanessa snorted. “It’s not hard to bake a cake, or stir a coffee, or whatever you do,” she said dismissively.
“She does a lot more than that.” Ronan’s fingers tapped faster against the table.
I took a deep breath as I patted his thigh. “Did you try anything?” I asked, shifting the subject. “Our lavender cinnamon rolls are the most popular item, but I’m sure Gracie told you that.”
Lydia scrunched her nose delicately. “I don’t eat sugar, so no, I didn’t try the cinnamon rolls.”
I didn’t want to point out that the wine in her hand had sugar, so I just smiled, and turned my attention to my dad. I knew he loved sweets almost as much as I did.
“I tried the new item—” He turned toward Vanessa. “What was it?”
“Some chocolate tart,” she said.
I perked up. I hadn’t realized Gracie put that on the menu already. “The orange blossom s’mores tart?”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “That’s it.”
“How did you like it?” I asked, nearly bouncing in my seat. Ronan’s hand slid onto my lower back, and he stroked his thumb back and forth.
“It was alright,” Dad said, shrugging. “Nothing to write home about, but it was good.”
My heart dipped a bit. “It’s my favorite thing on the menu,” Ronan chimed in, and I smiled softly at him. “ has been testing that recipe for a while?—”
“It’s your recipe?” Vanessa asked, interrupting him.
“Um, yeah. I’ve been helping Gracie come up with recipes for the last year. I really love testing them and creating new flavors?—”
“Was it your idea to put flowers in all your dishes?” She rolled her eyes. Ronan put more pressure on my back as he scooted closer to me.
“That’s kind of our thing,” I mumbled.
“You said the place is popular?” Lydia asked, and I nodded.
“It’s one of the most popular bakeries on the East Coast,” I explained. “We’ve won a ton of awards, and people travel from all over the world to try our food.”
She took another sip, humming softly, before flicking a glance at Vanessa. A silent conversation passed between them. I didn’t need to hear their words to know what they were thinking, what they wanted to say.
“Where else did you go?” I asked, my voice weaker.
“Nowhere, really.” Dad sighed. “There’s nothing to do here.”
“That’s why you don’t have a life.” Vanessa scoffed. “There’s literally nothing here.”
“That’s not true,” Ronan said. “Our museum is really great. It’s interactive and you learn a lot about the town and Maine. The farmer’s market was today, and there’s always live music there. You probably would’ve enjoyed it.”
“Oh, and there are the boat tours!” I said excitedly. “I went on them so many times when I first moved here. They take you to these little islands off the coast?—”
“And the whale tours,” Ronan finished, and I nodded.
“Yes! Those are so fun. Maybe we can go tomorrow?—”
“Uh, no ,” Vanessa laughed. “I’d rather not spend my time on a smelly boat in the middle of the ocean.” My excitement waned slightly, and my shoulders dropped.
“Well, they don’t smell,” I muttered. “They’re tour boats. Not fishing boats.”
She flicked her hair over her shoulder as she lifted her hand for the waiter, ignoring me once again. He came to the table, and she sweetly asked for another bottle of wine.
“We thought you were going to call today,” Dad said, and I blinked.
“What?”
“After you stormed out last night, I just assumed you would’ve called. You’ve never acted like this before.” He shrugged, his gaze flicking to Ronan. He leaned closer, dropping his voice so no one else could hear. “Are you sure you’re alright? Is he…” He glanced at Ronan again. “Is he abusing you?”
I jolted away, my eyes wide. “ What ?”
“If he is, just tell me and we can get you out of here. I told you it was ridiculous to move here on your own. You can come back with us, and?—”
“He’s not abusing me,” I snapped. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”
He and Lydia shared a look. “He speaks for you, he’s always by your side?—”
“Are you kidding me?” Ronan said in a deathly low voice. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“All I’m saying is that before you were in my daughter’s life, she wasn’t like this.” Dad waved his hand at me.
“You mean she let you walk all over her,” Ronan shot back. “You’re upset because I don’t put up with your bullshit.”
Dad’s face reddened, but he kept his mouth clamped shut as the waiter refilled Lydia and Vanessa’s glasses. Vanessa leaned back in her chair, grinning.
“ Our bullshit?” she said slyly. My mouth turned to sandpaper as she rested her glass on the table. “Should you tell him, or should I? I feel like if we’re going to have this conversation, then Dad needs to have all the info, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” Dad asked. “Tell me what?”
Ronan took a deep breath, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t feel my fingers. Air wouldn’t fill my lungs. The world was spinning, and my body was shaking.
“She’s been lying for the last year,” Vanessa said. “Their relationship is fake .”
“It’s not fake,” Ronan growled. “We live together now. She’s my?—”
“It’s fake?” Dad repeated, not acknowledging us, and Vanessa nodded. His attention was solely on her.
“I overheard them talking about it last night,” she simpered. “I was waiting for her to come clean, but it’s obvious they were going to keep this up. I didn’t feel right lying to you, Dad.” She glanced at us, her eyes sparkling. “And then Ronan was saying that she’s had to deal with our bullshit, but…” She shrugged. “She’s the one who’s lying. We’ve never done that to her. We’ve always been honest.”
Dad shifted his gaze to me. I felt two inches tall as I stared back at him. His anger and disappointment were palpable. I tried to swallow past the dryness in my throat, tried to see past the blurring of my vision.
“Whose idea was this?” he asked, his eyes on me.
“Mine,” I blurted before Ronan could try to take the blame for it. “It was my idea.”
“But I agreed to it,” Ronan rushed out. “I wanted to do this.”
“So, you wanted to lie to us?” Dad said, lifting his brows. Vanessa grinned smugly, almost triumphantly as she leaned back in her chair again, as if she were enjoying the show. “Have you done anything you’ve said you were doing? Do you even work at the bakery? Was your house truly broken into? Do you even—do you even live here? In this town? Have you done anything with your life, or has it all been a lie?”
Words wouldn’t form. Thoughts wouldn’t form. All I could do was stare, watch as his face shifted from annoyance, to anger, to pure fury.
“We flew all this way just to be made fools of,” he continued. Ronan was vibrating at my side. I held my breath, waiting for him to explode. “You’ve lied and lied and lied—I told you this place was no good for you. I told you you’d never make it here.”
“She has?—”
“If she had made it, she wouldn’t fucking lie!” Dad snapped, interrupting Ronan. “It’s all you’ve ever done—take the easy way out. You left Daniel because it was easier than working through your problems. You left Ohio because it was easier than facing the mess you made by leaving him. All you’ve ever done is leave?—”
“Didn’t you leave first?” Ronan asked, and silence fell on the table. “Didn’t you walk out first? Maybe she learned it from you.”
I sank into my chair, not because I was embarrassed or because I wanted him to stop talking, but because the tension at the table was enough to suffocate me. Everything he’d said was true—some of it words I’d put in my journal I knew he’d read.
“I won’t listen to some—to some guy I don’t even know tell me what I should or shouldn’t feel toward my own daughter,” Dad seethed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know enough,” Ronan spat.
Dad scoffed, throwing his napkin on the table. “We’ve allowed your boyfriend to speak to us the way he has—are you even the sheriff, or did you lie about that, too?” His gaze shifted back to me. “You haven’t changed, . You’re the same stupid little girl you’ve always been. You think that just because you moved here, because you pretend to be someone else, it changes who you are? It doesn’t.
“Vanessa would never have done this,” Dad continued. “She’s never left us; she’s always done what we suggested to her. But, most of all, she’s never lied to us.”
Ronan laughed bitterly. “No? So you know about her sham of a marriage?”
Vanessa’s smirk froze. Dad turned sharply to her, eyes narrowing. For the first time all night, she looked uncertain. And if looks could kill, Ronan would be dead right now.
I grabbed his hand, and he laced our fingers together, giving me the silent support I needed in that moment.
“What’s he talking about?” Lydia asked, her voice high-pitched and grating.
“Nothing,” Vanessa laughed dismissively. “He’s just trying to shift the focus from them and their lies to me. And it’s—it’s totally untrue and uncalled for. I haven’t done anything. She’s the liar here.”
Tears flowed from my eyes now. I was sure my makeup was smudged, leaving black streaks down my cheeks, but my dad didn’t care. He just continued.
“You’re seriously going to sit there and pretend like?—”
“This isn’t about Vanessa,” Lydia snapped.
“I’ve let you play this game long enough,” Dad said. “You need to come home immediately. It’s clear you can’t make the right decisions on your own.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Ronan snarled. “She wants to live here, so this is where she’ll stay.”
Dad pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet. Ronan followed suit, towering over him—over everyone. His chest rose and fell with his uneven, angry breaths.
The last thing that needed to happen was a fight. Ronan could lose his job, and he’d definitely put my dad in the hospital with one punch.
My knees shook as I got to my feet, putting my body between them.
“I’m done,” I said. My hand sliced through the air as hot tears continued falling from my eyes. “I’m done! You don’t know me if you think I’d ever go back home with you. You’re—you’re impossible! I don’t want anything to do with you. Not now, not ever! You’re—you’re?—”
A raw sob pushed up my throat. I could feel everyone in the restaurant staring at me—at us. But all I could focus on was the way my father was staring at me. There was something burning in his eyes, something that made another sob escape.
It was fiery—it was hatred .
He hated me.
At least in that moment, he did. And I couldn’t bear it.
I didn’t want his approval anymore. I didn’t want anything from him anymore. That single look, that fleeting expression on his face, was enough to pull me out of it. He was nothing to me. He was no one.
I turned, grabbing my purse and dodging Ronan’s large body as I headed toward the door. I heard his voice rise behind me, then Lydia let out an incoherent, drunk shriek, but I wasn’t listening.
The cool, humid air clung to my skin as I stepped outside, my vision blurry with tears. I looked around, trying to find a private place so I could finally have the breakdown of a lifetime. The alley beside the restaurant was dark, secluded, and I made my way toward it.
I turned the corner and rested my back against the wall before doubling over, my hands on my knees. I tried to catch my breath, tried to calm down so I didn’t start screaming. There was a crunch of rocks to my side, but I knew it was Ronan.
He was coming to comfort me, to save me, to whisk me away like he always did. I kept my head down and continued forcing air into my lungs.
I bit down on my lip, ignoring the trembling of my limbs. Tears kept falling, but as I looked up, a cold chill washed through me.
It wasn’t Ronan.
My breath hitched as I met Braydon’s dark brown eyes. I glanced around, but I was alone. It was dark, and no one knew where I was— Ronan didn’t know where I was .
Braydon’s hands were stuffed casually into the pockets of his dark jeans, and the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Rough night?” he asked, his tone almost mocking. I forced myself to stand up straight and wipe the tears from my cheeks. My hands were trembling for an entirely different reason now.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, pressing my back against the siding of the building. I forced out a laugh. “Are you here for dinner too?”
But then I fully took in his appearance, and my stomach dropped to my feet. He was in a plain black hoodie and black jeans. He wouldn’t be allowed into Opaline wearing that.
“You know, running off alone when you’re upset is a really bad habit,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing. “I guess last time you did it, you ended up with a cat. How is the little guy, by the way?”
I blinked. “What?”
He glanced at the entry of the alley, then his gaze slithered back to me. Our eyes met, and something in his face shifted. It was almost impossible to recognize, but I did.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked, his feet sliding against the ground as he moved toward me.
I shifted my body, ready to bolt. I hated myself for choosing heels over flats—I knew I needed to run. I needed to scream. I needed to do anything to get away from him. Because even if he wasn’t deadly, I knew he was dangerous.
“He was just grabbing our coats,” I lied. “He’s probably already outside.” He glanced at the entrance again, muttering something under his breath. “Ronan will be looking for me. If you—if you just let me go, I won’t tell him?—”
“Shut up,” he snarled. “Just stop talking.”
His hand slid into the front pocket of his hoodie, and I held my breath as he pulled out the shiny black gun. I couldn’t wait anymore—my feet slid against the dirt and rocks as I tried to run forward.
Braydon’s hand latched around my wrist, and he yanked me back, slamming me against the wall. The breath was knocked from my lungs, and my eyes lifted to the dark, starless night.
“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said softly, his breath ghosting over my skin. “But this is too good an opportunity to pass up. You’re never alone anymore.”
Hard metal pressed into my side. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I needed to calm down. My purse was a heavy weight in my hand, and I contemplated using it to hit him. But it was light—there was nothing but my phone in it. It wouldn’t hurt him, let alone knock him out long enough for me to escape.
“Walk, ,” he growled. “Don’t make a scene. Don’t scream. Don’t do anything but keep your mouth shut and walk .” I heard the click as he cocked the gun, and I tightened my hold on the strap of my purse.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.