Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
RACHEL
MID-NOVEMBER
Oh God, I am weepy. I am sad. I am also nearing the end of my period and have been eating everything in sight the last couple of days.
Salty or sweet, it doesn’t matter, I want to shove it in my mouth.
The emotional overload has been coming with increased frequency ever since I came back to the city at the end of August. And I’m still here, all these months later, miserable as ever.
It’s November, and I feel as if I’m trapped in a gilded cage, only brought out to smile and nod and look like the dutiful daughter wearing a pretty dress at a gala or fundraiser.
All while my father is out trying to nurture future business deals, having his beautiful wife and marriage-material daughter on display.
It’s awful. I’ve never felt more used in my life.
“Friedman has a son about your age,” Dad said to me a few weeks ago after an excruciating business dinner my parents hosted and forced me to attend. “You marry that kid, and it’ll be the ultimate business merger.”
I didn’t respond to him. Why argue? And marry Mr. Friedman’s son? No freaking thank you. I’m not about to marry some random guy because my father wants a business merger. How unromantic is that?
We’re currently attending yet another fundraiser. One of those fake to-dos run by some rich woman who’s married to an even richer man, and since she doesn’t have a job, she raises money for the “poor and unfortunate” instead—her exact words on the email invite she sent out.
The burgundy lace dress I’m wearing unfortunately accentuates the serious bloat I’ve got going on, thanks to being on my period, and I’m gobbling up every appetizer I can get my hands on. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be twenty pounds heavier by New Year’s Eve.
“Darling, do you really think you should keep eating those?” Mom’s brows shoot up as she inclines her head toward the puffed-pastry shrimp appetizer I’m about to shove in my mouth.
I eat it anyway, talking with my mouth full. “What are you trying to say?”
Thinly veiled disgust crosses her face, and her lip curls. “You’re gaining weight.”
“I’m on my period.”
She shakes her head once. Mom doesn’t like to talk about messy, human things. “Watch yourself.”
“Why? If I get fat, does that mean Dad can’t marry me off anymore?” I dust my hands off and glance around the room, searching for the bar, relief flooding me when I spot it nearby. I need a drink to take the edge off. “I hate it here.”
I leave my mother where she stands, not bothering to excuse myself.
My manners have gone out the window, as has the respect I always had for my parents.
They don’t seem to view me as a human being with feelings and goals.
More like I’m a pawn in my father’s business strategy, and with me back, he thinks he can sell me off to the highest bidder.
Not literally, but still. I should’ve never returned here. I should’ve stayed in that sweet small town where I found myself. Where I found a good man and good friends. Where I found worth in myself. But I blew it.
Calling Nate was a desperate move. I hated how real he was with me, but then again, I also appreciate it. He told me the truth—Wyatt wasn’t ready. He promised he would call or text when he was, and so far, I haven’t heard from him. That was weeks ago.
What if Wyatt is never ready? That’s the chance I have to take, and it’s soul crushing.
My phone buzzes in my dress pocket, and I pull it out, gasping in surprise when I see who’s trying to FaceTime me. Walking away from the line, I answer the call, giddy as I wait for her face to appear.
“Scarlett!” I grin from ear to ear when I see her familiar, beloved face. “I was just thinking about you!”
“Really? That’s why I called. You wouldn’t leave my mind the last week or so, and I finally found some time to myself, so I thought I’d reach out.” She frowns as I push my way through the crowded room. “Where are you?”
“At a fundraiser.” I grimace, my nose wrinkling. “It’s awful.”
Scarlett laughs. “I don’t miss those.”
“Give me a second. I’m going outside so I can hear you better.
” Within a minute I’m standing outside, the crisp fall air chilling me to the bone.
I’m wearing a sleeveless burgundy dress cut in a baby doll style, a thin black grosgrain ribbon wrapped like a belt just under my breasts.
It’s an adorable dress, wasted on a bunch of old geezers, my father’s so-called friends. “Okay. Can you hear me now?”
“Yes! You look beautiful, Rachel. I love what you’re wearing.”
“Thank you. How are you? What are you doing? When are you coming home?” I sound a tad desperate, but I need to see my bestie in the flesh. It’s been far too long since we’ve been together, and I miss her.
“We should be home in about a week. Definitely before Christmas. But we’re going to Los Angeles. We’re spending the holiday there.” Scarlett bites her lower lip. “My mom and dad are coming, and so are my brothers. We’ll be hosting at Tate’s house, and I’m excited and nervous.”
Disappointment settles in my stomach, but I fight it off. At least she’ll be somewhat close. Okay, still across the country, but that’s better than across the world. “Are you cooking the turkey?”
“Oh my God, no. I’d probably ruin it. We’re having the dinner catered. It’s going to be amazing.” Scarlett hesitates, and I swear I see the devious cogs in her brain working. “You should come for Thanksgiving. And then maybe after the holiday, you can drive up—”
“No. I would love to come to your Thanksgiving dinner, but I’m not going anywhere north of Los Angeles.
” Not without word from Nate first. I can’t just show up in Foxglove Bay out of nowhere and expect Wyatt to welcome me with open arms. What if he hates me for leaving him? I’m just as bad as Cheryl in his eyes.
“You’ll come here for Thanksgiving? Really?” When I nod, I swear Scarlett looks close to tears. “I’m so glad. I’ve missed you so much, Rachel. You have no idea. I can’t wait to see you!”
My skin prickles, gooseflesh rushing over my arms, and I try to brush it off, thinking it’s the chilly wind.
But no. It feels like someone is watching me.
Glancing up from my phone screen, I spot a man standing not too far away on the sidewalk, his face in shadow.
His shape is familiar, as is the way he moves, and I realize the man is heading in my direction.
Oh. God. It’s—is that Wyatt? I must be seeing things. Great. I miss him so badly, I’m now hallucinating.
“Do you think you’ll be able to stay for the entire week?
We could go shopping, and I could show you around LA.
There are a few restaurants that I absolutely adore, and I think you’ll love them too!
Plus, there’s so much good shopping. Coffee shops.
Oh, there’s this one frozen yogurt shop with the craziest toppings .
. .” Scarlett is rambling, excited about me coming to visit, but I can’t focus on what she’s saying anymore.
What I’m seeing is not an illusion. The very man I care about more than anyone else—the man I love with every fiber of my being—is headed straight toward me with a determined expression on his face that leaves me breathless. And hopeful. So very hopeful.
“Hey, Scarlett?” She goes quiet. “Can I call you back?”
“Of course! I hope everything is—”
I end the FaceTime call without letting her finish, shoving my phone in my pocket, never taking my eyes off Wyatt.
He looks different. A little thinner, and he’s moving more slowly, with the faintest limp.
He’s wearing jeans and a black coat, his hair a little longer and completely windblown.
The mustache is still there, accompanied by a lot of scruff on his face—an attempt at a beard?
Yes, definitely, and it’s undeniably sexy.
He’s sexy. Pure, rugged man in slick Manhattan, and all the breath in my body seems to leave me when he stops a few feet away. Like he can’t come too close. As if he’s being cautious with me, when all I want to do is throw myself at him and beg him to take me back to California.
Take me back home.
“Rachel.” His deep voice and the way he says my name move through me, making my heart race because he’s here.
He’s standing in front of me, and I can hear him.
He’s close enough to touch, and I flex my fingers, dying to go to him but waiting too.
I’m cautious as well, but he wouldn’t come all the way out here to tell me .
. . what? That he hates me and doesn’t want to be with me? Please.
A man like Wyatt doesn’t just drop everything and travel across the country for someone he doesn’t care about. He’s a busy man with responsibilities. His sudden appearance here is big. Momentous.
It’s everything.
“Hi, Wyatt.” My greeting feels silly, but what else am I supposed to say? Oh, I know. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“You share everything you do on social media, Rach.” His smile is small, and God, I missed seeing it. His handsome, beloved face. “You make it easy to keep track of you.”
“I do?” I sound shocked. I am shocked. I had no idea he was tracking me, but how could I? I guess my obsessive posting on my stories has finally paid off in the best way. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Nate told me what he said to you when you called him. That I wasn’t ready to see you.” He takes a step closer, but there’s too much distance between us still. “He was right.”
My heart drops. I’m surprised I’m still standing. “That crushed me,” I admit. “But I appreciated his honesty. I needed it.”
“My not being ready had nothing to do with you. It was all me. I was . . . fucked up over the accident. Resentful. Mad at the world and everyone in it. Even you.”
I am on the verge of tears, and I tell myself to suck it up. “I was wrong too. I should’ve never left—”
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “It was the right thing to do. I would’ve taken out my anger on you and ruined everything between us.
We needed distance. I needed it, though I missed you.
I missed you so damn much. There was a hole in my fucking heart the entire time you were gone.
I’ve been in recovery mode, trying to fix my damn leg.
My head. And I only just realized the hole in my heart, the hole in my life, was because you weren’t with me to fill it. ”
Yep, still can’t breathe. It’s becoming increasingly difficult not to just run and throw myself at him, but I keep still. What if I hurt him? He looks big and strong, but I know what he went through. How he struggled. He basically just admitted that to me, and Nate filled me in on a few things too.
“Nate told me he promised you that he would let you know when I’m ready, but I figured I’d do him one better and come to you myself.
” He clears his throat, his nerves obvious, which just makes my heart melt even more.
“I’m ready. I love you, Rachel. I didn’t want to say it before because I didn’t want to scare you, but I’m so fucking in love with you.
I know it’s happened fast, and maybe you don’t feel the same—”
I tackle him. I was already running toward him while he made his sweet speech, cutting him off with my lips landing on his. His arms go around my waist, and the relief that sweeps over me at being this close to him, feeling him, his mouth moving over mine—it’s like I’ve come home.
He is my home. Not this city or my parents, not even the town where Wyatt lives, though I love it there. He is it. The one person I need and love more than anyone else in the world.
“I feel the same,” I murmur against his lips. “The exact same.”
“Then say the words, baby.” He’s smiling. So am I. Smiling and kissing him, his hands running up and down my back. Soothing me and also working me up, little sparks igniting everywhere he touches.
“I love you.” He pulls away slightly, staring into my eyes, and I get lost in his, not wanting to look away. “I love you so much. I’ve missed you.”
He runs a hand over my hair, most likely messing it up, but I don’t care. He has this look on his face like he can’t believe I’m in his arms. That we’re together again. Finally. “You’re beautiful.”
I step out of his arms like an idiot because I miss them being around me immediately. “Do you like the dress?”
“I like everything about you.” His gaze turns dark and hungry, and my body responds, an answering throb between my legs.
Oh, I’ve missed him. “I came here to bring you home, Rachel. I can’t stand the thought of you not being with us any longer.
Come home with me, baby. And let’s make a life together.
You, me, and Dottie. Let’s make babies so Dottie can have siblings. ”
I am overcome. Must be my period amplifying everything. My emotions, the look on his face, his words. The similar emotions I see swirling in his beautiful eyes. I go back to him, his arms automatically going around my waist, and I touch his face, brushing against the beard. “I like this.”
“I’m lazy. That’s the only reason I haven’t shaved. But I’ll keep the beard if you like it.”
“I like you without the beard too. I like everything about you, Wyatt McKinney, but don’t you dare get rid of the mustache.” I rise up on tiptoe—not easy in the black patent-leather Louboutins I’m wearing, but I manage it—and kiss his perfect lips, cutting off his chuckle. “Take me home.”
He tucks me into him as if he has no plans of ever letting me go, turning his head so he can stare at the building I just came out of. “Your parents are in there?”
How does he know this? Oh yes, he’s keeping tabs on me via social media. All this time I thought no one was paying attention to me, but Wyatt was. “Yes.”
“Should I meet them?” His gaze finds mine once more. “I want to do right by you, Rachel.”
“Take me out of here,” I whisper. “You can meet them later. When do you fly back home?”
Wyatt winces. “Tomorrow. I can’t stay away from Dottie for long.”
I love that about him, that he doesn’t want to be away from his child. “I’ll go with you.”
“You will? I don’t fly out until one.”
“Perfect. I’ll buy a ticket right now.” I have money in my account because I went on a buying ban. I need nothing. I have more clothes and material things than I could ever want or use. “We can go to breakfast with my parents before we fly out.”
It’s Friday night, and normally my father works on Saturdays, but I won’t let him. I’ll demand he meet the love of my life. And then I’ll leave. Go back to my home with Wyatt and Dottie and everyone else.
Where I belong.