Chapter 42 Rowe #2
Sylvia takes a calculated step toward me, sizing me up with eyes that radiate arrogance and affluence. “He married me for my money, and when he realized that he wouldn’t get any of it, he left, abandoned our children. He was a fortune hunter. I’ve always told Pane to be leery of such people.”
Heat flushes my neck. Is it hot in here? It feels hot in here. I fan my face with one hand. “I can understand that. Mrs. Maddox, I can assure you that I’m not interested in—”
“My son’s money?” She tips her head back and laughs.
“Of course you are, dear. Anyone would be. That’s a given.
My point is that even if you two wind up together, do you not see how different you are?
” She points one exquisitely lacquered fingernail to the decorations in the bar.
“You are from this place. He is not. Once Pane takes up his new position, he won’t be returning to Mystic Meadows, no matter what he’s promised you. ”
She lays a cold hand on my shoulder. “I’m trying to stop you from being hurt more than you need to be, because my son is not the sort of person who lives in North Georgia.
He is a Maddox, and the Maddox life is one of luxury and service.
” She delicately lifts one of her eyebrows; no doubt it’s a look that has weakened many a board member’s knees. “Do you see luxury anywhere here?”
No, I don’t. There’s no luxury here. What do I have to offer Pane other than mud and biscuits?
Nothing. Oh, myself, of course. But how long will it be before the shine of me wears off? Before Pane realizes that little Sunbeam can’t compete with his world? It probably won’t take long. In a few months, he’ll wake up and realize I don’t fit.
My gaze lifts to scan the bar. He’s on the other side, talking to a reporter, giving an interview while wearing a three-piece suit. The dress I’m wearing is a Vera Wang knockoff. It’s made of cheap imitation silk and has itchy straps.
Pane turns and sees me. He smiles, but all I can feel is a pressure building. The pressure of not being good enough, of not meshing with his life.
Sylvia’s right: We are different. I run a pig farm; he runs hotels. At some point our differences will become blaringly obvious, and he’ll leave.
I’ll be abandoned again.
Realization crashes down on me. It feels like there’s a baseball in my chest. One that grows, expanding, filling up, and cutting off the air that tries to thread its way into my lungs.
I can’t think. Can’t breathe.
“Excuse me,” I whisper to Sylvia.
I push my way through the hot, crowded bar packed with people, throwing myself against the door and spilling outside.
The cool air caresses the film of sweat that coats my arms, and I shiver. I rake my fingers through my hair and inhale several deep gulps of oxygen. Air rushes into my lungs, and the claustrophobia that was setting in disappears.
I press my back to Sparkle Bar’s brick exterior and take my time inhaling and exhaling, trying to right myself and wrap my mind around what comes next.
What does come next?
The door slams open and Pane runs out. He stops, spins around, sees me, and comes over, his hands immediately sliding up my cheeks.
“What’s wrong? Did my mother say something to you?”
In his eyes, all I see is concern. Worry bleeds across his face, twisting his features. It’s the worry of a man who cares about me, who thinks we have a future.
I shake my head and push myself off the bricks, sliding out of his touch.
“Rowe?”
“What are we doing, Pane?”
The concern melts into confusion. “What do you mean?”
I rub the back of my thumb across my forehead. “I mean, you’re all expensive hotels, and now you’re president of the Maddox Group—president—while I’m stuck here in Georgia as a piggycorn farmer.”
“That’s Miss Piggycorn Farmer to you,” he jokes.
“I’m serious.”
He slides his hands into his pockets. “My mother said something.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters. Rowe, I’ve meant everything that I’ve said. I’m not leav—”
“I know, I know. I know what you say. But yes, Pane, you are leaving. You have to. Now that you’re president, there are people you have to see. Things you have to do. What, are you going to fire up a laptop and work between chores? Maybe between feeding hot dogs to Tallulah?”
His head falls back and he stares into the sky. After a moment, he lifts his head and levels his gaze on me. “Yes, I will have to go away for a little while. But I’ll be ba—”
“To do what?” I interrupt.
“To help you.” He approaches. “I’m not done with this town. I have plans. I want to build a hotel.”
I cock my head. “By yourself? Or with board approval?”
“It’s not like that, Rowe.”
“It is, Pane.”
He reaches for me and I pull away. The look of hurt on his face almost wrecks me, but then I remember the times I’ve been abandoned.
Luke promised to stay. My dad tried to stay.
But they both left, and I can’t help but think that things like this come in threes.
Even if it is irrational for me to believe this way, it’s true. Those men left, and so will Pane.
He will. He just doesn’t know it yet.
So it’s up to me to remind him of how all this has been play. It hasn’t been real.
“For weeks you and I have lived in a tiny little bubble.” I form a cup with my hands to demonstrate. “A bubble that only exists here, in Mystic Meadows. But now we’re facing real life. We’re not in fantasyland anymore. You don’t belong in my world, and I don’t . . .”
My voice falls away and he nods. “And you don’t belong in mine?”
“Exactly.”
Agony, excruciating agony, flickers across his face as I let my hands drop to my sides. Pane closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, his features have gone cold, his expression stony. “Rowe, think this through. I’m telling you that—”
“I have thought it through.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have.”
There’s a breath of silence before his spine snaps straight. “Okay,” he says slowly. “If this is what you want—”
“It is,” I say quickly, so quickly that there isn’t time to change my mind. “It’s what’s best.”
There’s a moment where we stare at each other, and then he retreats, spreading his arms wide. “I’ll do whatever you want. If you want me out of your life, little Sunbeam . . .”
My heart breaks when he says it.
“Then I’m gone.”
When I don’t say anything, he gives a stiff nod and walks back into the bar, leaving me all alone.