Chapter 25 #2
“We met up yesterday.”
Her sister stepped back. “You what?”
“It was completely by chance. Though maybe not totally, because he admitted he was hoping to run into me. I had my hands full with the pottery I ordered from Erin, and we bumped into each other as I was leaving her shop.” Juliette spread her arms wide, pressing her lips together.
“He asked me to grab a coffee with him. I said yes.”
“And?” Anne-Sophie prodded.
“And that’s it. There’s nothing between us anymore. We talked it out. We apologized to each other. And we moved on.” Juliette stacked her color boards and binder neatly on one of the counters. “It was better this way, I think. As opposed to having to face all of that baggage today.”
Anne-Sophie crossed her arms as though she didn’t quite believe her. “What about Charity?”
“That was a little bit harder. Mostly because she was so nice.”
“Ugh, I know.” Her sister rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Her niceness was sickening.”
“But she must’ve known about me. All those trips he took to New York…
” Juliette grimaced at her foolishness. She’d been so blind, so completely naive.
Though if she was being truly honest with herself, she must have known.
There was probably an inkling or worry in the back of her mind, an alarm or warning she simply chose to ignore.
But none of it mattered anymore. “She probably never even viewed me as a threat.”
“Don’t say that,” Anne-Sophie scolded, her voice stern. She took both of Juliette’s hands. “You have plenty to offer.”
“Thank you.” It was strange. She didn’t think she had much to offer then, when she was with Rodrigo. But now she was sure of herself. And she was definitely enough. “Oh, and there’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Gabi called me.” Juliette pretended to straighten up the remaining files, tossing Anne-Sophie a hesitant look. “She found me a job.”
Silence met her, so she continued, “In California.”
“Are you going to take it?” Anne-Sophie asked.
Finally, Juliette forced herself to look up fully. Anne-Sophie’s eyes were wide and shadowed with worry. “I don’t know. It’s a lot to consider. It’s with a large company, ColorSpace.”
Anne-Sophie nodded, tight-lipped. “I’ve heard of them.”
“Anyway, it’s not set in stone. Just an idea, that’s all.” Juliette tucked the rest of the papers back into her binder and planted both of her hands on the edge of a makeshift worktable. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you the same way I did last time. This is me being transparent.”
“Okay.” Anne-Sophie blew out a breath and ran a hand through her wild dark hair. “Are you ready to head back to the shop?”
“You go ahead.” Juliette waved her off. “I’m going to pick up around here, see if there’s anything else I can finish up, and then I’ll head out.”
“Okay. See you later.”
After Anne-Sophie left, Juliette gathered up her color boards and binders.
It was the best feeling, having a signed contract in hand, knowing the beach house was going to have a long and wonderful life as a wedding venue.
Yet, standing in the front entryway alone, she found she missed Brock.
She hadn’t seen him since last night at the bonfire, and though he’d failed to show up today for the meeting with Rodrigo and Charity, she was sure it was simply an accident. He’d probably just forgotten.
She fired off a text to him.
Wedding is booked! They loved it
She was gathering up the rest of her promotional supplies when she heard the familiar rumble of a truck pulling into the driveway. Her heart nearly tripped over itself.
Smoothing her hair, she gave her cheeks a quick pinch for some color, and went out the front door to greet him.
Brock hadn’t said anything last night, but she was certain he understood why she wanted to give him space, and she assumed his kiss was in response to her wanting to stay here, in Mystic Cove with him.
The second she caught sight of him outside, she stumbled to a stop.
Something was wrong.
A scowl haunted his face, and there was determination in his step.
“When were you going to tell me?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“I just did.” Confusion left her reviewing everything she could’ve forgotten to tell him. He usually didn’t care too much about the nitty-gritty wedding stuff, so she figured something brief and to the point would suffice. “I sent you a text like two minutes ago.”
“Can you please explain this?” He held out his phone for her to see. It was a picture. A very clear picture of Rodrigo kissing her on the cheek, maybe near the corner of her lips, after they’d sorted out their differences.
A flash of annoyance shot through her. Did people in this town honestly have nothing better to do than gossip and not mind their own business?
“That’s nothing, Brock. We just talked.” She was innocent and ready to defend herself and her actions. She had no feelings left for Rodrigo, not that it was anyone else’s concern but her own.
“Just talked?” His voice was steady, but a muscle feathered in his jaw, which told her he was working to keep calm.
“Yes. It was a peck on the cheek, nothing more. That chapter of my life is closed. I told him I was grateful for him because—”
“Grateful?” Brock’s voice boomed. “After what he did to you?”
“If you’d stop interrupting me and let me finish,” she snapped back.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His shoulders dropped. “Please continue.”
A strange sense of relief settled over Juliette. It was then she realized Brock’s hostility was directed toward Rodrigo, and not toward her.
“All I told him was I’m glad we broke up. It gave me the opportunity to find myself again.” She grabbed hold of her last bit of courage. “To find you.”
There was a shift in his eyes, and over the call of the ocean, a pained silence fell between them. He stepped toward her, entwining their fingers together. His hands were warm despite the chill in the afternoon air.
“These past few days with you have been amazing, Jules. I’ve loved having you back in my life.” His amber eyes searched hers, looking for something she couldn’t quite name. “But I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
Juliette’s heart tumbled into the pit of her stomach. Her breathing grew shallow. Her chest was heavy, like it was going to explode, or combust completely from within. The jackhammer of her pulse sent a wave of trepidation crashing over her.
She must have misread the signs. Had she gotten this all wrong again?
“I need to talk to you about when we broke up.”
“Wait. What?” Confusion muddled her mind, and then panic slammed into her. This was the talk she’d been wanting to avoid, the moment when the truth would come out. “You mean in high school?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” She drew the last syllable out, not knowing the direction the conversation was headed.
He drew small circles with his thumb along the back of her hand. But she wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort her or distract her.
“When I left for boot camp and…” Brock shifted his weight, uncomfortable.
“And never came back,” she finished for him.
“Right.” He swallowed, and his amber gaze landed on hers. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore. I didn’t change my mind or find someone else, like I said. I never stopped loving you.”
Raw emotion, a tangled mess of misunderstanding and frustration, slammed into her. He loved her—then and now. All those years, wasted. All their dreams and wishes, gone. All the heartache she’d suffered at the loss of him, all the tears that stained her pillows, all of it had been for no reason.
She shook her head and pulled her hands from his hold.
“Then why?” her voice broke.
“I stayed away because…” His mouth drew into a tight line and shadows of remorse haunted his eyes. “Because your mother asked me to leave you alone.”
Juliette’s world came crashing down upon her, the weight of it so heavy, so unbearable, she could hardly breathe.
She inhaled sharply but it was like she was being suffocated, the air simply wouldn’t come.
Wind rolling in off the coast slammed into her, and she gasped.
Her mother told Brock to stay away from her?
Raking both hands through her tangled, windswept hair, she shook her head.
No. Gigi wouldn’t stoop so low. Would she?
Her chest heaved. It was impossible to focus, to understand, to rationalize how such a cruel and unjust arrangement could have been made.
Was it even an arrangement at all? Or was it her mother just making sure Juliette was forced into the life she wanted for her?
Sure, she’d been seventeen, but she was crazy about Brock.
She loved him. Fully. Deeply. Fiercely. And because of her own mother’s self-righteous indignation, he’d broken her heart.
She stumbled back and turned away from him. She faced the beach, the endless abyss of gray skies, cold sand, and white-capped waters. “So you lied to me?”
He blinked, and she recognized the moment his own realization struck him. Because Brock told her he had found someone else after boot camp. He’d lied.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he countered.
“Why?” The word came out of her mouth, but it was strangled. “That’s what I don’t understand in all of this, is why? You should have told me the truth from the beginning. But why would my mother do such a thing? And worse, why would you ever agree?”
“Gigi told me she was trying to protect you. She told me if I left and cut you out of my life, that it would be the best thing I could ever do for you.” He spread his arms wide, but the space between them now seemed foreign.
Empty and desolate. Just like her heart.
“She said I was too much like my father, that I wasn’t good enough for you. "
“I don’t understand.” She couldn’t find the words. Her thoughts were blank spaces, spinning around and around in her head with zero direction. She whipped around to face him, and the harsh wind lashed her hair across her face. “So, you let my mom trick you into leaving me? You let her win?”
Brock stepped closer. “She made it seem like I was doing you a favor. I thought I was saving you.”
“And you believed her?” Juliette asked, incredulous.
“I was eighteen, Jules.” Brock’s chin lifted and he set his jaw. “I didn’t know any better.”
“I can’t believe this.” She waved him away without a second thought, storming off through the sand to the shore, where the waves crashed and roiled. Distance beckoned her. Time pulled her. She needed to get away, to sort through her emotions before she said something she would regret.
Thick layers of clouds were rolling in from the southwest, bringing with them an onslaught of bitter cold.
Already the temperature was dropping, plummeting as grim sunlight vanished behind the gray cloud bank.
The threat of snow loomed, not so rare, but in the way weather could change in an instant, it was the same with Juliette’s heart.
“Jules.”
Brock followed her to the beach. The gusts of wind blasted them both, cold and strong enough to make Juliette stumble. Brock reached out for her, but she dodged his grasp. She wished she could throw herself into his arms, to kiss away the hurt, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
“You have to believe me,” he pleaded. “I was young. I thought—”
She held up one hand. “I do believe you.”
“You do?”
“I just can’t understand why you didn’t even think of coming to me.
” It would have been different if he had told her what Gigi was trying to do.
Instead he let her mother ruin what they had, he let her control them, let her manipulate them.
“Years, Brock. Think of all the years we wasted because of this.”
Pain lined the features of his face. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She crossed her arms and buried her chin in her coat. “I have to go.”
“Wait.” Brock stepped after her through the sand. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Maybe California.” It certainly seemed like the best option now.
“What? Are you serious?” He grabbed at her arm, but moved just out of reach. “What’s in California?”
“A job, Brock. Gabi found me a job out there.”
“So, that’s it then? You’re just going to leave?”
Juliette didn’t answer, because she didn’t know.
She wanted to stay. Of course she wanted to stay.
She wanted to build a life with him and continue to nurture her relationship with her sisters.
Maybe even her mother. But for now, her heart ached, and her mind was a cloud of confusion.
Her thoughts drifted, images of the past filtering between glimpses of her present and dreams of her future.
Right now, she needed time. Something Brock had willingly given her for thirteen years.
She turned and trudged through the sand back up the path from the beach house to her car.
“Juliette!”
The wind carried Brock’s voice to her, but she didn’t look back. There was only one person she wanted to see. One person she needed to confront.
Her mother.