Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
The candle Julia had given Patrick flickered in the center of the coffee table. He put the folded blanket he’d been holding at the end of the sofa and sat down next to it.
“The guy who prefers to be left alone asked me to talk?” Emily took a seat next to him.
He offered a small smile, but something lurked behind it. “I’m not tired, and you look upset.”
“I’m not sure you really want to hear my drama,” she said.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I’ve been in the navy. Throw it at me. I can take it.”
She liked him. And there was an electricity between them that she’d never experienced.
For a split second, she wondered if telling him everything would turn him off.
They hadn’t known each other long enough for her to spill her life to him.
She’d rather start over. But something in his honest gaze made her want to strip away the pretense and tell him her deepest thoughts.
She gave him the rundown on Will and what she’d been dealing with.
“The craziest thing is…I keep beating myself up, thinking I should’ve seen it coming.
The whole ordeal made me realize that I didn’t really know him like I thought I did.
I should’ve spent more time with him, asked him the hard questions, to really understand who I was marrying, but I was so busy trying to make a life for myself that I didn’t stop to consider what I wanted in all of it. ”
“What had you so busy?”
“First, it was finishing college. After that, I had to find a job. My friends were getting married, so I had to cross that off the list. The next step was we needed a house… I got caught up in building a life and didn’t stop to pay attention to who I was building that life with. And then it all came tumbling down.”
“Maybe it was God’s way of putting a stop to it before things got too heavy,” he said. “Before you had kids in the mix. You know?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
His demeanor was soft tonight, his undivided attention intoxicating.
“What would you do differently next time?” he asked.
His question surprised her. Until this moment, she hadn’t considered there would even be a next time. “I’d slow down, I’d ask questions, have more meaningful conversations.”
“Like what?”
Emily thought for a minute, considering what she thought meaningful. “Like, where do you see yourself in five years?”
The slight lift in his features dropped.
“What?” Had she said something wrong? Had he thought she meant him?
“I don’t know the answer to that.”
“You don’t have to answer it. It was just a hypothetical question for my hypothetical next boyfriend,” she said.
“Regardless, I should be able to, but my life has started to move so quickly that I don’t know what I want my future to look like.
I originally moved here to help Julia and take care of Winston.
I had to make money, so I started cooking for people under my company, Main Course.
I gained a pretty prominent client out of Nashville through word of mouth and that spread my reputation from Nashville to LA.
” He stopped as if he couldn’t believe it.
“People were bombarding me from every direction, wanting to know how to get my cooking. Some suggested catering, but I can’t be in two places at once.
My schedule was already full with private clients.
So it occurred to me that I could build the recipes and hire chefs to cook them.
Before I knew it, I was in the planning stages of The Low Tide Supper Club.
“But I’ll be the first to tell you that all the great success in the world can fall in an instant.
I have no idea what my career will look like in five years.
I worry that I’ll lose my personal life, miss major events in Winston’s childhood…
I’ve been incredibly intentional about including him, but I’m worked to the bone.
I’ve just been trying to survive each day. ” He frowned.
“I’ve noticed how you react under pressure, and I have no doubt you’ll find a way to fit everything in. You won’t miss out on a thing. You’ll make sure of it.”
He searched her face, so many unsaid thoughts behind those blue eyes. “How about you? Can you answer the question of where you’ll be in five years?”
“Definitely not. The future I’d planned is gone, so I haven’t quite mapped out the next five years. I guess I’ll be in an apartment somewhere around Nashville, teaching, having coffee with Sienna and Blair on the weekends.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“Is that not a good enough answer?”
He shot back quickly, “I wasn’t criticizing it. I was legitimately curious. Is that the life you want?”
“Regardless, it’s what I’ll have, given the situation.”
His expression crumbled. “Says who?”
“Me?”
“You could’ve said, ‘With everything I’ve been through, I’m selling it all and moving to Paris, or I’m buying a boat and sailing around the world; I’m living off-grid…’ It’s your life. You get to choose.”
“So, what kept you from doing those things?” she asked.
“Originally, I didn’t want to do any of that. I wanted to live in a little house in the woods, visit my sister and her kid, and disappear. But when I was presented with a successful business, I had to regroup, change plans.”
His vulnerability gave her courage. “I read the article about you in that magazine. I know what happened to Winston’s dad.”
He visibly clammed up. His shoulders rose and his jaw clenched.
“The allure of a private chef to the rich and famous opening a restaurant was pretty strong, and I had people calling me left and right to do interviews. I wasn’t sure how to manage all that, so I hired a PR person one of my clients suggested, Tabitha Reynolds.
She’s been relentless about ‘putting me out there,’” he said with air quotes.
“She says that emotion sells, and the more people know about me, the more they’ll want to visit the restaurant, so I agreed to the interview, thinking it would be about my cooking.
But they didn’t put any of that in there.
Instead, they made it a sob story about my life—something I never felt comfortable sharing with everyone.
It’s too painful. I’ve regretted that interview ever since. ”
He shook his head. “And she wants to do more promotion. She’s got a national morning-news show on standby, but I’m not doing it.”
“I wanted to read the article,” Emily admitted.
He made eye contact. “In print, it’s an inspirational story. But it was real life for me. I heard him scream; I carried his casket…”
“I’m so sorry,” was all she could manage. Seeing his anguish, she regretted mentioning the article. What a stupid idea that was. But she was only trying to learn more and be honest with him.
“It’s not your fault,” he said. “But it’s why I do better when I keep to myself.”
“Have you talked to anyone about it?”
He scoffed. “Please. None of that ‘deep breath, get in touch with your feelings’ mumbo jumbo is going to help. My best friend is gone, and it’s my fault.”
“Your fault? How? You didn’t cause the explosion.”
“I talked Daniel into joining the navy. He’d waffled, wanting to continue his father’s general contracting business. But I wouldn’t let up. I kept trying to convince him of how great it would be… Until he finally relented.”
She put her hand on his arm, and he flinched. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
“I bugged him and bugged him about it. I was young and stupid. I wanted to have all these great adventures with my best friend. My mind was on port cities overseas and nights in the bar at the officers’ club on base.
He’d already told his dad he was carrying on the company, and he’d been spending long nights learning the business side of it when I finally convinced him.
I wrecked that too. Without Daniel to carry on his legacy, his dad had to sell the business.
Now Winston, who has an affinity for building already—if he grows up and wants to do something like that, I’ll have taken his birthright from him too. ”
“Patrick, there was no way to know,” she said again. “One changed decision by anyone in your past, and he’d be sitting right here with you.”
“Right. And that decision was the one I had in asking him to enlist.”
“He could’ve been assigned to a different ship,” she offered.
But he shook his head. “I went up to Navy Personnel Command and had a talk with one of the detailers. He and I’d had a couple of beers a few nights prior. I asked him to put Daniel on the same ship.”
“What about the fact that had Daniel wanted to continue in his father’s footsteps, he could’ve told you no? But he didn’t.”
Patrick’s eyes glistened and his jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He shut down. “I don’t know how to do this.” He waggled a finger between them. “I’m no good for anyone.”
“If you ever do want to talk more about it, you can talk to me,” Emily offered. “I’m not sure I can say the right things, but I can listen.”
“Thank you,” he said, his voice gentle and his tense muscles visibly softening.
Silence floated between them. He wasn’t the only person who’d experienced tragedy, but it was clear his wounds were still fresh. The best thing she could do was to give him space.
She stood up. “I’m getting really tired, so I should head to bed.”
He watched her as she took a step toward the hallway. In a strange way, she hoped he’d ask her to stay. If he did, she’d spend the whole night talking to him.
“Good night,” she said.
“Night.”
She turned toward the hallway and, using the light on her phone, headed for bed.
Panicked voices roused Emily out of her sleep. She strained to hear, but in the haze of slumber, she couldn’t make out what was being said. From the tones, however, something was terribly wrong.