Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
ROMILLY
The next two weeks seem to pass faster than I can process. Bash’s parents get lunch with me and him before they fly home—without Bash, much to their dismay—and hold true to their request that he move out of their lake house after his fight.
By the time the weekend arrives, my own parents are practically kicking my door down for an extremely overdue family gathering.
With everything I’ve had going on, it’s been way too long since I’ve seen their faces, and I’m ready to fix that.
“I’ve missed family dinner.” Zara sighs the words dreamily as she rests her head on my shoulder.
“That’s because you never do any of the cooking,” says Mom. “I’d miss it too if everyone else fed me delicious food and all I had to do was show up.”
I laugh at the way Zara pouts at our mom’s response. “Mom, not everyone has your gift,” I say. “You can’t expect her to be eager to keep trying when she always burns everything.”
Zara turns her glare onto me next. “Okay, I feel attacked. I’m officially going to hang out with Dad and Aiden.”
As she stomps off, Mom and I exchange amused laughs. “She’s right though. I definitely missed these dinners, too.”
Mom smiles. “Now, from you I’ll accept that sentiment.
You almost do more of the cooking than me.
And you wouldn’t have to miss us in the first place if you weren’t so busy all the time.
Going two months without seeing me, your father, and Aiden is unacceptable.
” She stirs the stew on the stove, rapping the handle of the wooden spoon against the side to remove excess liquid.
The salty scent of the meat and vegetables in the pot makes my stomach growl.
I wince. “You’re right. I can’t believe it’s already November. I’m sorry. And I haven’t even asked you how your trip was.”
“It was just as wonderful as you’d imagine a cruise to the Bahamas to be, sweetie.”
I sigh. “I’m happy for you.” But as I help make the bread and mix the salad, I can feel my mother’s gaze on me.
“Something’s different about you,” she finally says.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She narrows her eyes at me as she searches my face. For a moment, I’m nervous she’ll be able to see right through me and find out about Bash, or the fact that I’m about to head to Boston with him tomorrow for his fight.
But before she can ask anything, Dad, Aiden, and Zara enter the dining area, which is attached to the kitchen.
“That smells amazing, honey,” Dad says. “Thank you both for cooking.”
Aiden barely acknowledges anyone because he’s currently immersed in a paid livestream of a mobile game on his phone.
Mom and I set the plates of roasted ham and bowls of stew on the table. My stomach growls again as I plop into my own seat and take Dad’s and Zara’s hands as we say Grace. When we’re finished, I’m more than ready to dig in.
Aiden’s eyes gleam as he takes in all the food. “Is it Thanksgiving already?”
Mom laughs. “That would explain why we’re actually getting some face time with your sister for once, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, please,” I say. “It’s not like I’ve been meaning to stay away so long. I’ve just been busy with work. I’m trying to make a good impression on my clients, so I’ve had to overbook myself.”
“That and Romilly has been seeing someone,” Zara adds.
The remaining three pairs of eyes at the table jerk to my face.
And just like that, my appetite is ruined.
Everyone speaks at once.
Mom: “I knew there was something going on with you!”
Dad: “Then I would like to meet this fellow, Romilly.”
Aiden: “What’s his name?”
Slowly, I face Zara. She’s blushing with shame, like she didn’t mean to out me like this. “Was that necessary?” I ask through my teeth.
She shrugs. “What? We’re all family. If I don’t drag it out of you, you’ll never talk to anyone.”
“Of course I will. On my own terms, Zara!”
“Yeah, which basically means never.”
Mom shushes us. “Stop, you two.” Then turning to me, she says gently, “Romilly, tell us about the man you’ve been seeing.”
I take a bite of food to buy me some time before answering. My whole family knows what happened with Cole, so I’m sure this is a big deal to them. After all, I’ve made it clear I want nothing to do with relationships anymore practically every time I see them.
I finally muster up a sentence for them. “I’m not technically seeing him. Zara is exaggerating.”
Zara gasps. “No, I’m not. They kissed. She told me.”
I cross my arms. “Kissing doesn’t mean dating.”
“It should, for you,” says Dad. A protectiveness enters his tone. “I don’t want random young men thinking they can go around kissing you without commitment.”
I sigh. It’s pointless to tell them it’s not Bash who’s avoiding a commitment, but me.
In my family’s eyes, I can do no wrong. So to keep them from hating Bash before they even meet him—if they even meet him—I tell them exactly what they need to hear.
“Okay, fine. We are dating. His name is Sebastian, and he comes from a respectable family. He even goes to Harvest Valley church, and he’s a friend of Logan’s. ”
My dad seems to relax at that admission. “Logan? Oh, alright then.”
“He sounds wonderful.” Mom beams.
Aidan returns to his video game, all interest in my personal life vanishing now that the promise of drama has disappeared.
And Zara? Well, I choose to ignore her for the remainder of the meal. It’s not until I’m outside, about to get in my car at the end of the night that she captures my hand and forces me to face her.
“I told you I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Zara.”
“No, it’s not. You’re mad and I can tell, and I feel really bad.”
I sigh. “Would it be so hard to ask me before announcing something like that next time?”
“Believe me, I realize that now. Please forgive me.” She hangs her head dramatically. “I wish there was an undo button for life.”
My irritation fades, and I can’t help but laugh. “Of course I forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
“And I know just how you’re going to make it up to me.” She frowns at me in confusion, but I get in my car and say, “I’ll text you the details tonight,” before shutting the door and driving home.
I sigh as I hang up my phone the next day.
My fingers linger on the cool, smooth surface of the screen as I drop it onto my coffee table in the living room.
Finally, I’ve finished rescheduling the last of my pet parents.
It’s taken all week to get a hold of everyone and find a spot for them.
The effort feels like lifting a heavy weight off my chest, but the guilt remains, prickling at the edges of my resolve.
My throat tightens as I think of the disappointed tones I’ve heard all morning.
It’s taken a lot of guts on my part.
I’m not used to letting them down, and I’ve never been driven to before.
But the way Bash looked at me when he asked me to come to his fight—it’s almost like he’d already accepted I’d say no.
The memory of his expression, guarded but tinged with hope, stirs something tender in me.
And I can’t deny he’s really saved my tail with the salon these past few months, so I owe him.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
It’s not because you want to go, Romilly, it’s because you should. It’s the right thing to do.
I tell myself the lie on repeat, because it’s the only thing keeping me from backing out.
Next, I call Hadley. She answers almost immediately, her voice warm and familiar on the other end.
“Hey, Rom.”
“Hi. Would you be willing to take my set next week for worship at church?”
“Um, sure.” An edge of concern creeps into her tone. “Is everything okay? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”
“No, I just won’t be able to make it.”
She’s silent for a beat, and then when she talks again, she almost sounds excited. Eager. “Is this about a guy?”
I shift in my rattan living room chair, the synthetic upholstery creaking beneath me. “Why would you think that?”
“You know the guy that’s been hanging around Logan at church? I see him staring at you sometimes during service.”
“You’re so funny. Thank you again,” I say in my most polite, you won’t be getting any information from me tone. And then I hang up before she can pry further.
Has she really seen Bash staring at me? The thought makes my stomach flip.
And I can’t deny the thought of traveling alone with him makes me nervous.
Excited. More nervous, though, now that this upcoming fight has served as a reminder that he won’t be my bather forever.
Even if he does stick around longer than he planned, he’ll eventually get tired of washing dogs and want to focus on fighting.
I’ve known this, of course, but it still hurts to think of him leaving. I know it’s silly, but I was starting to get used to having him around, which is exactly what I was worried about.
He’s not leaving you, just not working with you forever. And that’s okay. He’s not another Cole. But the thoughts are as loud as bad feedback on a mic and my brain won’t turn down the volume.
As I put up the listing for his job online, I can’t shake the feelings of abandonment, and he hasn’t even left yet.
He can be my bather as long as he wants, but it won’t hurt to have another person to help.
Especially since there’s a chance Agatha still won’t come back after Elena writes her article on my business.
I checked my ratings again last night, and nothing has changed, so Elena really is my only hope.
I head to my room and glare at my open suitcase on the floor, the corners sagging under the weight of half-folded garments and loose, unorganized toiletries.
I need to finish packing. Bash is supposed to be here to pick me up any minute, and I’ve barely made any progress, because every time I imagine tucking my suitcase into his trunk and driving away with him, my stomach rockets with nerves.
My phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. When I see Bash’s name on the screen, those nerves practically triple.
“Hey,” I say.