Chapter 25
My hands fly across my phone, texting Erin, my mom’s old campaign staffer, for any assistance or ideas they might have for the jubilee. It’s early evening on the West Coast. I know they’re definitely still answering work calls, even on a Saturday.
Shaw drives the SUV in silence, but I catch the worry in his eyes each time he glances at me in the rearview mirror.
When we arrive at the Mystic Hollow Inn, I walk inside to find Ruby and Tita Karra sitting together on the couch, cups of tea in hand.
I’m embarrassed to interrupt them, as the two look like they’re having some quiet time together.
Ruby manages a smile. “Abby, dear. I thought you were still at the dance.”
“I came back early,” I say, wanting to avoid her sad eyes. “Is Gabriel around?”
Ruby clears her throat. “He went outside. Not sure if he’s here still.”
I hesitate. “I’m sorry about the fireworks show. I know you really worked hard to be the host.”
“It’s a real blow, but we’re going to be fine. Don’t you worry.” Her tone doesn’t convince me. Ruby nods at the door. “I think Gabe mentioned doing some evening shots of the inn.”
I apologize one more time and head out. The night air is thick with humidity and loud with the trill of cicadas chirping from the groves of trees in the distance.
The moonlight casts a brilliant white glow on the grassy fields surrounding the house.
I check the back of the inn and see Gabe’s green truck empty and dark.
Meaning he’s outside on the property somewhere.
There’s only so many places he could be. I check the picnic area to the side of the house. Then the Honeymoon Cottage, where my phone pings. It’s the one place on the property where we have the barest of phone reception.
Erin has responded to me, hopefully with good news about possible jubilee participation, but I’ll open their message later. Gabe is my priority now.
I glance at the garden, but I know he isn’t there.
I walk toward the giant oak tree with the inn’s well-worn tree swing.
As I approach the large, sturdy tree and the firepit and logs surrounding it, my chest tightens as the happier memories of this place come to mind.
It’s only been a few weeks, yet the inn already feels like home.
The creak of metal confirms my hunch as I see the white swing swaying back and forth. Gabriel lies sprawled across it, eyes fixed on the stars, his body bathed in silver moonlight. My pulse quickens at the sight of him, here alone. Just the two of us, in this place that means more than words.
“Abby, what are you doing here?” Gabe says. His voice has a slight tremor. We stare sadly at one another until I’m finally able to respond.
“I didn’t know Oliver’s family had booked the fireworks display,” I tell him. “I’m so sorry.”
With a loud sigh, he returns his gaze to the sky. “It’s not your fault, Abby.”
My stomach knots up. “Still, I feel awful. There has to be something we can do.”
He shakes his head, resigned. “I spoke to Mom when I got back. Mayor Lee broke the news to her this afternoon. All day she’s been getting messages from vendors that they’re leaving our event and going to participate in the Commander Resort’s festival.”
“But we have the pie competition and the flowers,” I say, my voice cracking.
Gabriel’s shoulders slump. “They’re leaving. They know people will spend their time and money at the Commander’s bigger event. The business council is considering leaving too.”
My jaw drops. “We can’t give up. We’ll figure something out. We’ll have more attractions at our event.”
The swing creaks loudly as Gabriel sits up. “Abby, I think you and your network have done enough. We already knew the inn was in trouble. Nothing has changed our situation.”
I frown. “So, what? You’re going to just give up?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Abby. My mom and I will work something out.” But from his tone, I can tell he doesn’t even believe himself.
I remember the text from Erin that I received by the honeymoon suite. I check the message, hoping there’s some good news.
My jaw drops at the image on my phone. It’s me holding a red Solo cup, with the most unflattering face, and dancing at Kyle’s lake house.
And there are more photos. I swipe and see me making kissy faces at the camera with Gabriel in several selfies.
And our nighttime astrophotography photo shoot.
Me posing in Gabe’s hoodie atop the honeymoon suite.
It’s so oversized it looks like I’m wearing only the hoodie.
Gabe and me picnicking on the river, looking very cozy.
I swipe and swipe. Finally, there’s photos of me arguing with Oliver just earlier at the Founder’s Day Dance.
These images just dropped, Erin wrote with several brain-exploding emojis. It feels like time stands still as I study each photo like a nightmare unfolding before my eyes. Of course, I have no reception so I can’t call them to ask where they saw these photos, but I’m sure by now they’re everywhere.
My hands shake. That photo. Gabriel took it.
He must’ve taken the other images too. I look up and meet his gaze, a fiery fury coursing through my veins.
He’s far enough that he can’t see the contents of my phone, but he must know something’s off because he’s completely still, with a confused look on his face. “Abby, what is it?”
I hold up my phone and show him the images. “These photos just showed up online,” I say. He squints as I scroll through. His eyes flick across the images—pausing on the photos taken at our private picnic.
“Where did those come from? How—”
I jerk my phone away from him. “You were that upset with me you had to post these photos?”
Gabe’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “No, Abby. This is some kind of mistake.”
I show him the selfie of us making kissy faces. “Who else had this photo?”
He stares, like a campaign worker caught without a statement. “I don’t know—”
I scroll through the photos again. The screenshot of one post shows five hundred comments, but I know better than to read them.
Loud footsteps approach and I turn to see Shaw. “Excuse me, Abby. You have a call from the White House.”
My blood chills. How do I explain this to my mother? She trusted me to behave out here. Those photos are completely taken out of context, but even if I explain I know the damage is done.
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Gabe says.
I give him the most withering look. “Gabe, I’m sorry about your family’s business, but how could you do this? I trusted you.”
“Abby, wait—” Gabe calls after me. But I don’t stop walking. I need to talk to my mom. I need to get away. I follow Shaw into his SUV, where my mom is on the line on a satellite phone. I settle into the leather seat, wiping the hot tears on my face. Shaw hands me the phone.
“Abby, what on earth is going on out there?” my mother exclaims.
“Mom,” I sniffle, unable to collect my thoughts.
I gaze at the inn with its white-wood siding, softly weathered after decades of sun and love.
The wide wraparound porch that always feels like an open-armed welcome.
I’ve grown so much these past few weeks at Mystic Hollow.
I’ve done amazing things that I’ll never forget.
But this isn’t where I belong. This isn’t my world. Gabe is right. Practice is over.
“Mom, I want to come home.”