Chapter 29 Char
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAR
I shrug off any guilt over hurting Dave as I wordlessly close the car door behind me and make my way to Matt and Ellie’s front porch. I needed to leave. He had absolutely no right to pry into my private life.
Hell, I’ve gone from running from one man to feeling like I’m being hunted by several. Every step I take now feels watched. I want to believe Dave. My gut tells me he was telling the truth. Yet belief is a luxury I can’t afford anymore.
The morning air cuts cold against my cheeks as I walk. The ground is still slick from last night’s frost, the mountains surrounding me are fading into a soft gray mist. The world looks peaceful. Yet I’ve witnessed first-hand how a sated moment of bliss can turn on a dime. That peace can be a lie.
I keep glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting him to run after me. Half-hoping he will. I shove that thought down before it becomes even more tempting. I can’t do that again. I let my guard down with him. Look where that got me.
By the time I reach the front door, my nerves are shot. This sensation only escalates as I reach for the handle and realize it’s unlocked.
Unlocked!
I guess when you live in a small town and there aren’t threats looming in every dark corner, you have no need to double-check your locks.
As I close it behind me, flipping the deadbolt, I consider how to ask them to lock up without causing alarm.
I shouldn’t have brought my troubles to their doorstep.
“Good morning,” Ellie greets with a knowing smirk.
“Good morning,” I respond flatly, hoping it’ll discourage taking this conversation any further.
“What’s wrong?”
So much for that.
“Nothing. Just tired.”
“Good tired? Like got a workout and not a lot of z’s tired?” she asks hopefully.
Prior to stumbling upon Dave’s private detective work, I would’ve responded with a hell, yes.
“He’s a nice guy. But it’s not going anywhere.
You know me, Ellie.” My eyes hold hers. “Please don’t make it awkward.
” I try to soften my tone so it doesn’t sound accusatory.
Jeez, I would’ve asked the same thing about her and Matt back in the day.
“Oh.” Her face falls. “That’s too bad. I had a good feeling about the two of you.”
“Well, stop. I’ve got way too much on my plate to consider a long-distance relationship.
Any relationship, for that matter.” I head toward the guest room before she can answer, craving the solitude.
If I’m lucky, she and Matt will be at work the rest of the day, and I can have a good cry, followed by a really long nap.
It’s been a few days. Long enough that I’ve convinced myself I’m fine. Or at least, if I say it often enough, I can pretend it’s true.
Ellie and I are at the restaurant, tucked into a booth near the window.
I’m nursing my second cup of coffee, fingers wrapped tight around the mug, while Ellie sips from her herbal tea.
I can’t help but wonder how much longer she can continue to work, growing these babies.
But I’m well aware of what it’s like to have someone inserting their opinions into your life. So, I keep mine to myself.
The bell above the door jingles, and Matt and Brecken walk in, stamping the cold from their boots. I feel my chest tighten before I can stop it, expecting the third in their trio to bring up the rear.
But he doesn’t.
Matt spots us and waves, sliding into the booth beside Ellie while Brecken takes the seat next to me. He gives me an easy grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Ellie tilts her head. “Where’s Dave?”
Brecken shrugs, busy unfolding a napkin. “He isn’t feeling well. Told us to come without him. Said he was gonna lie down.”
Ellie’s eyes narrow, quickly flicking to me. My stomach knots.
“He must be bad,” Brecken says. “Otherwise, he’d never miss a chance to eat here.”
I force a small laugh, trying to swallow the ache that rises in my chest. “Guess even the big strong ones get sick sometimes.”
The table hums with quiet chatter, but I can’t follow along.
My mind’s somewhere else. Remembering the look on his face when I said I had to go.
I stir my coffee just to have something to do with my hands.
It shouldn’t hurt like this. He had no right to dig into my life, no matter how good his intentions were.
So, why do I feel so bad?
I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I either have nightmares of men cloaked in black coming to finish me off, or I see him. Standing there in the cold, worry etched across his stupid, handsome face, begging me to trust him.
By morning, I give up pretending. I grab my phone and call Liz. It rings twice.
“Char?” Her voice, always so steady and warm, cracks something open in my chest. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
I sink onto the edge of the bed. “Not really.”
She doesn’t push. I tell her enough to make sense, but not so much that I give her more details about my involvement with Dave than I’m comfortable. I focus more on my worry that I could be bringing harm to my friends by staying here.
“Is it okay if I come for a visit?” she asks carefully. “I can be there tomorrow.”
“I hate to ask. But if you’re offering, I won’t turn it down.
” My eyes well at the very idea she would come here.
She really does feel like the mother I never had.
And I’ve missed her. “I’m not sure if Ellie and Matt have a place for you to stay, given they’ve been putting their nursery together.
But there’s a bed and breakfast in town. ”
“That’s fine, honey. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it and call once I know my travel plans. See you soon, Charlene.”
When Liz arrives two days later, I’m surprised to find Margaret with her. The two of them are like a piece of home I didn’t know I’d been missing. The way they each envelope me in a warm hug before even setting down their bags. They’re like a balm to my achy heart.
Over my favorite blend of tea in a corner booth in Ellie’s restaurant, they listen while I unravel the story. All of it. Particularly about the man who’s made me feel safe for the first time in years.
Once I’ve laid it all out there, Margaret just looks at me. Both of them do. Sitting there blinking at me like two wise old owls. “You can’t live your life running from people who care about you, Char. That road you’re on, it’s long, and it’s very lonely. And I don’t want that for you.”
Liz nods her head in agreement. “And it’s not what you deserve. You’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing! Why wouldn’t you be entitled to a life with someone? And my gut tells me that young man would move heaven and earth to keep both of you safe. If you gave him a chance.”
I stare into my mug, throat tight. “I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore.”
“Then start small,” she says softly. “Start with someone who’s earned it.”
Her eyes flick to Ellie, who’s been quietly pretending not to eavesdrop from the bar.
They’re right. I mean, I’ve already put her growing family at risk by staying here with them. The least I could do is share my situation so she can protect herself.
Even if that means pushing me away.
“What did you say this young man’s name was?” Margaret’s question shakes me from my pessimistic thoughts.
“I didn’t. It’s Dave. David Newtown the third, actually.” I annunciate the third as if he’s a royal aristocrat. Hell, maybe he is. “I only found out his last name recently.” From Brecken, go figure.
Margaret taps the pad of her index finger against her chin. “You know, I think I know their family.”
My ears perk up. “Really?”
“Yes. Well, I can’t be sure. But if his grandfather is the David Newtown from New Jersey I remember, he was a very nice man.
He was a shrewd investor, to be sure, but was quite generous with his wealth.
And you know that’s a trait I find rare but refreshing in the annoyingly affluent.
” She snickers. “I prefer the ones who are genuinely philanthropic versus the majority who gift for a tax write-off.” She takes a well-mannered sip of her tea, that little finger extended like the true lady she is.
“David Newtown, Sr. was of the first category.” Her expression changes to that mischievous quality I adore.
“And quite handsome if I recall.” She winks.
An unexpected laugh bubbles up my throat.
“His son was a real numbskull though.” She rolls her eyes. “One of those suits with an over-inflated ego. Thought his money did all of the talking for him. Plus…” she hesitates.
“What?” I’m literally on the edge of my seat. All the while, Margaret could be totally off base, and these people are not even related. But I want to hear the ending to this story, regardless.
“Well, if your young man is the one I think he is, his mother was just lovely. She was very sweet, down to earth. Completely devoted to her son in a real maternal way, no nannies or staff raising him for her so she could attend luncheons or spa days. She wasn’t overly flashy like so many of the dimwitted blonde trophy wives those well-heeled men paraded around.
” She places her teacup down. “I really liked her. So, it pissed me off knowing her husband was a two-timing skirt chaser.”
I gasp, covering my mouth in shock.
“Yes. He didn’t even try to hide it. The divorce wasn’t at all surprising, given how different they were.
But I always hoped she ended up with a nice man.
” She gives Liz a knowing squeeze of the hand.
“Anyway, I guess your David could fall into either category. But from all you’ve told me, my women’s intuition says he likely inherited his grandfather’s traits. Which would be ideal.”
I slump back in my seat, having absolutely no idea what to do with any of this information other than file it under typical southern gossip. Because, even if it might be true, it doesn’t change much. Other than one obvious fact.
Dave must be even wealthier than I thought if Margaret hobnobs with his family.