Chapter 33
S am sat on the couch staring into space. Celeste perched beside him with more space between them than she usually gave.
“How are you holding up?” she asked.
“Not great,” he said. When he faced her, his eyes looked hollow. He’d been hit with the one-two punch of learning the truth of her past, followed by a run in with the current husband of the onetime love of his life. Not to mention the racist oaf who demanded his head on a platter for the sole sin of being the wrong color, from the wrong country. All in all not a great day to be Din Chatti. “How about you?”
“Same,” she said. She took a breath. “It’s been a long, sort of terrible day. Maybe we should call it a night and try again tomorrow.” They needed to have a long conversation, the sort that went better after rest.
Sam swallowed hard and faced forward again with a little nod.
He can’t even look at me anymore, she thought but quickly pushed it away. She wasn’t exactly rational at the moment. It was possible exhaustion was clouding her emotions. Tomorrow she was certain things would look brighter. Probably not everything, but some things. And she’d have more energy to deal with them.
She went upstairs, took a long, hot shower, crawled between the sheets, and fell immediately asleep.
Sometime later she woke with a start, certain someone was in her room. And before she could reach for her gun or talk herself down, he spoke.
“How can you sleep at a time like this?” Sam demanded.
Squinting, Celeste snapped on the light. Sam stood beside her bed, frowning. “How long have you been there?” she croaked.
“I don’t know. I poked my head in to assure myself you were still there and okay and got sort of lost staring at you while you slept.”
“Creepy but okay,” she said.
“Seriously, Celeste, how can you sleep?” he demanded tossing his hands in the air in frustration.
“Not well when you’re yelling at me. Why are you yelling at me?”
“Because I’m so mad.”
“What did I do?” she asked, voice going small and quiet. How had she messed up so badly without even knowing?
He sank to the bed beside her and gripped her shoulders. “I’m not mad at you. How could I be mad at you? So brave and kind and amazing. I’m mad at those idiot men who ruined your orchard. All your big plans to bring it back to life, and it’s gone. Gone because of me. I swear. Everything I touch falls to ruin.” He shoved his hands in his hair, dislodging it at his temples in the universal I’ve lost my mind gesture.
“What are you talking about? None of this is your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault. If I hadn’t come here, they wouldn’t have bothered you. You wouldn’t have had to fight someone almost twice your size, wouldn’t have lost your orchard. This is all my fault, everything is my fault. I’ve been avoiding you all day because I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes when you realized. I’m like King Midas except instead of gold it all turns to…charcoal.” He gestured helplessly toward the orchard.
She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You are amazingly good at being astoundingly wrong,” she said.
Slowly, he pulled his head out of his hands and swiveled to look at her. “What?”
“Why on earth would I blame you for any of that today? Nothing was your fault. You didn’t make those men supernaturally stupid, didn’t provoke them to attack. Bad things happen and we move on.”
“But your orchard…”
“Bad things happen and we move on,” she insisted, interrupting him. She dropped her eyes. “I thought you were avoiding me because of the things I told you.”
“What things?” he asked, sounding so innocent she glanced up sharply again.
“What things? All the things, about my life, about my past.”
“ Ya eazizaa , why would I care anything about that? I’m sorry it hurt you, sorry for the ways you struggled. But it doesn’t change who you are, nor how much I love you. Did you think it would? Or that it could?”
She nodded, eyes brimming with tears.
He nudged her aside and lay down, snuggling her tight against him. “What nonsense. You are my beloved, and I am the last person in the world to judge someone on her past. Didn’t we agree too many things came before that have nothing to do with us?”
“But you kept pressuring me to tell you,” she said. “I thought it was because it mattered.”
“It does matter,” he said, petting her head in that soothing way he had that made all her stress drain away. “It matters that you trust me with your secrets. I’ve given you all of mine, and you’ve kept them safe. I wanted to do the same for yours.”
“What about Maggie?” she asked.
“What about her?”
“It must have been painful to see Ridge today.”
“Must it? I thought it would, and I suppose it was a bit, if I’m being honest. But not the way I thought, not as much. Maggie is safe and loved and happy, I could wish for nothing better. And they have a baby, that’s certainly something she and I never shared. I used to think of her as mine, but she’s not and she hasn’t been for a long time. She’s his, and that’s okay. As much as I used to resent him, I now appreciate him. He’s good, he loves her, and he makes her happy. And you are good, and I love you, and you make me happy. We’re all where we should be, I think.”
She nestled closer, pressing her face into him and inhaling. Home. “I do love you,” she said voice muffled.
“And are you happy?”
She paused. Was she? “Yes,” she said slowly. Somehow, though she didn’t believe it would ever be possible, she had created a life, one where she was beginning to reconcile her past, present, and future. One where she felt no need to run away from the truth of who she had been or try to perfect who she was becoming. She was flawed, incredibly, but so was Sam. Maybe so was everybody and they were merely better at hiding it.
Sam took her hand, threading their fingers together. “Are we going to stay in Paradise, even without the orchard?”
“Where else but this crazy town? I don’t think anyone else would have us,” she said.
Sam stared at their hands, a little sadly, she thought. “I’m not certain they want me.”
“No, I don’t believe that. Those men are not representative of Paradise, not the Paradise I’ve come to know and love. There are good people here, Sam. Don’t let the bad ones push you away. Besides, I think you’re wonderful and that’s enough. Anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.”
“Can’t you tell me this last thing? Can’t you tell me what you did for The Colonel?” he begged.
She shook her head. “I really can’t. It’s classified. But I’ve dropped a lot of clues, and so did Leo.”
He squinted, trying to remember. “No, I would have remembered. All you said, all Leo said, was that if you told me you’d have to ki…” He broke off, his eyes doing the shocked blinky thing. “But, no.” He glanced down at her, expecting confirmation or denial.
She remained mute.
“You are joking. You did not kill people for a living.”
Again she said nothing.
“Celeste, no. I refuse to believe it. This is some quirk of your humor, of Leo’s humor. You’re in on it together. You are too tiny and adorable to be a killer. It’s like a squirrel stumbled from the forest and started walking upright everywhere and wearing pants. And you expect me to believe that little squirrel is capable of killing people?”
“A few years ago a squirrel bit through a transformer and took out the power to the entire eastern seaboard for a week. Don’t underestimate squirrels because they’re small.”
He stared at her, unblinking now. She sat up and kissed him. “Turn off the light. I’m so tired.”
“I may never sleep again,” he said, but he obligingly turned off the light, nestling close against her back. “Good night my little spoon. I love you so.”
She gripped his arm where it lay on her stomach. “Sam.”
“Hmm.”
“I think our life is about to get very, very good.”
“We’ll make it so,” he agreed, bestowing a sleepy kiss on the back of her ear.
Smiling, warm, safe, and happy, Celeste drifted to sleep.