Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Charlotte
T hat night, after I’d convinced myself Cody would leave me alone and we’d talk another day, a slow knock thudded against my door and proved me wrong.
I’d thought about following him earlier—about storming after him and demanding that he look me in the eye and tell me what he wanted. Of course I didn’t, but the flare of anger clutched at me hard enough I wanted to scream at him.
He thought I was the one leaving him behind, clearly. He thought I’d take off in February without a backward glance. Maybe that’s how it’d felt when I left when we were basically kids, and maybe even again the last time we actually spent time together in person years ago.
But he didn’t see how he was leaving me stranded. He wouldn’t say what he wanted. He wouldn’t just tell me. I had to drag it out of him or have an interaction with someone else like Chase or Julian or whoever put us in a situation where we couldn’t avoid the subject.
Not once had he simply asked for my plans and said what he hoped for.
I scrubbed my hands down my face, too tired after a long day of angst rolling around in my head to deal with a fight right now. I didn’t want to fight with Cody. I wanted him to wrap me up in a hug and tell me we’d figure this out.
I pulled open the door without a word and waited for him to come in. Our eyes met and my heart twisted at the misery on his face. Close on the heels of the ache came a new rise of hurt and frustration.
He stepped inside and I closed the door behind him.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at me from under those long black lashes. “I’m sorry.”
My throat immediately tightened and I said nothing.
“I’ve always known you’d leave, and I shouldn’t be mad about it. I know that logically. But the reality of it—having a countdown clock to when we’re done—I hate that. We just started dating. It’s been weeks, and that’s—” he swallowed hard. “That’s not enough for me.”
Hope mingled with frustration. “What does that mean?”
He blew out a breath. “That means I don’t want to set an end date. I get that you have other plans, but I don’t want to feel a ticking clock. I just want to—” He exhaled again, that jaw flexing.
“Please just say what you need to say. Don’t worry about what you heard or any of that.” Please just tell me what you want. For once, don’t worry about my plans and just say whatever you feel like saying.
He squinted lightly and ran a hand through his hair. “I want us to keep going. I don’t want to get caught up in what’s coming at us when we don’t even really know… what that looks like.”
That hesitation made me wonder. Was that what he’d planned to say? Or did he want to say something else? I hated not knowing, but exhaustion hung on me, even through the mild relief I felt that he wasn’t going to stomp his way out of here again.
“I’d like to keep going. Like you said, we’ve just barely started.”
My small smile must’ve given him the encouragement he needed because he stepped into my space and wrapped me in a hug. I clung to him, eyes closed, not feeling much better than I had when he’d opened the door, but wishing I did. And knowing I didn’t have it in me to dig in deeper. That, and I wouldn’t beg him to say he loved me or wanted me. I couldn’t do that, and if he wasn’t ready to say those things, I couldn’t do anything about that.
And there it was. I did love him, and this ache taking over my senses was the realization that I was in love with him. Paired with the thought that if he felt the same, he’d tell me, I couldn’t even try to pretend I didn’t feel this much. I couldn’t cast it off as leftovers from our past or infatuation. I loved him even when he was driving me insane, even when he was killing me.
His dark eyes pierced mine and he lowered his face to deliver a sweet, firm kiss that lingered like a seal on the conversation. “I hate fighting with you, and I’m sorry I left earlier.”
“It was for the best. I’m glad we both had some time to sort through things.” And I wouldn’t have wanted to dive into all this at work anyway, and the shaking in my limbs that’d just started told me I’d be glad I could collapse on the couch after. Couldn’t have done that at work, for sure.
“Are you free this weekend? Can we spend some time together? I love grabbing lunch, but we need more than a stolen half hour every few days and texts.” He nudged his forehead against mine and I gripped his wrists.
“I’m free. I’m jumping in to help with check-out on Saturday, but my Friday’s open after five, I think.” Unable to help it when he was this close and being so sweet, I tilted my head up to press my lips to his jaw.
“Good. I’ll come walk home with you at five, if that works? We can just order in and watch a movie or something.”
I exhaled, thinking that sounded like heaven. Between now and then, I’d sort through this mess in my head and heart. “Yes, please.”
“Good. I’m leaving for now because you seem dead on your feet. I’ll see you in a few days, if not before.”
He kissed my cheek, pulled me in for one last quick hug, and slipped out the door. I locked it behind me and stared around the space, wondering what to do now.
We had plans. He wanted to keep dating. He clearly liked us together and we had good chemistry. He’d apologized. He’d explained at least part of what he was upset about. He didn’t freeze me out for weeks or make me guess.
Things should feel settled and I should be looking forward to Friday without anything else cluttering my thoughts. So why did I feel so disappointed? Why had dread trickled into my bloodstream like poison?
* * *
The rest of the week swept by in a thankfully busy race toward ski season opening. Between the season kicking off and the holidays, more and more guests arrived every day. The town bustled, the resort had something going on at what felt like all times, and all of it helped keep my mind off the pit in my stomach.
I knew what I had to do. We couldn’t go on like this, so tonight while Cody and I had our date at his house, I had to be direct. It might ruin everything, and it’d definitely put me in a place where I’d be vulnerable and laid bare, but what other choice did I have? Continue on pretending I felt good about where we stood and knowing we were crumbling?
That made no sense. And decades of friendship and love were worth trying for.
I checked my phone to see how much time until I was supposed to meet Cody up front to walk home. A text alert caught my eye—from my friend who worked at the Bergman group. “You’re in! Watch for the offer early next week. Can’t wait to see you in NYC, girl!”
I sucked in a breath, the reality hitting me like books toppling from a shelf one by one. I’d given up hoping for a job with Bergman. I honestly hadn’t imagined I’d hear from them this late in the game. I’d submitted my application and had a phone interview months ago, just after I’d gotten the news the Richlieu group was laying me off. I figured the chance had passed and my friend left it alone because she didn’t want to give me the bad news.
But here it was. The job I’d only dreamed of going for after getting laid off by a company I’d stayed loyal to. I’d spent no small amount of time berating myself for not taking this chance sooner, considering the loss I took by putting all my faith in my former company, and what had I gotten?
I’d ended up here. No one else was hiring at my level in their managerial staff. Even Silver Ridge Resort wasn’t. I was working as an assistant manager at the front desk—not a bad job, especially considering this was a gorgeous hotel and it was in my hometown, but several pay grades below what I’d been doing. Julian Grenier’s subtle mention that we could negotiate things had piqued my interest.
But now, here was my dream job in my grasp and I felt… blank. Stuck. Like my blazer had shrunk and my bra was suddenly two sizes too small.
I signed out of the computer I’d been using and grabbed my ID badge. I mumbled bye to Lucia who’d arrived minutes ago to replace me, and if she gave me an odd look for the curt, garbled farewell, I didn’t see it. My vision seemed to narrow on the hallway, the door out to the lobby, then finally out into the fresh air. I gasped and closed my eyes, waiting for logic to take hold.
“Hey, right on time, ready to—you okay?”
Cody arrived at my side in seconds, his hand at my elbow to steady me. I must’ve looked bad if this was his reaction.
“Sorry, I’m just, uh… can we walk a bit while I collect my thoughts?”
His eyes swept over my face, hungrily searching for clues. I offered a small smile, hoping it looked more cheery than how it felt. Seeing him only pushed me into a more strangled place. I needed to breathe and think and just… not have to talk about this just yet. Not just yet.
“Of course. Take my hand?”
He held out his hand and I took it gratefully. I wanted the connection, the physical tether to him and this place.
We walked along quietly, the crunch of salted sidewalks beneath our feet and a night-blackened sky overhead. Streetlight lit our path in bright bursts. Occasionally, cars passed as they drove up to the hotel, back where we came from. We descended the hill and passed the gorgeous and newly expanded Silverton Inn. We plodded along a connecting path that let us skirt Main Street and cut directly to Silver, slipping behind the mill buildings, diner, and now into the neighborhood. It was cold enough I would’ve frozen without a jacket, but in my mindless retreat I’d grabbed my jacket and purse, thank goodness.
When the house came into view, my pulse accelerated. It pounded in my neck and temple.
“Want to change and come over when you’re ready?” Cody asked as we mounted the steps.
“Yes. Perfect. I’ll just be a minute,” I said, fumbling with my keys.
“Okay. Good. I’ll see you soon.”
I nodded and slipped inside, moving on autopilot through changing into jeans and out of my suit. I slipped into cozy boots and a sweatshirt, trashing any idea I might’ve had that I’d try to look cute for him. I needed the safety of the hooded sweatshirt where I could hide my hands in the little front pouch and tuck my face into the folds of the neck if I needed to.
With one last big breath, I left my place and knocked on his door. He opened immediately, looking similarly comfortable in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that fit him beautifully.
He took my hand and led me to the couch in his living room, and then he waited. My heart thudded in my chest so loud, he had to be able to hear it. I swallowed, and tried again when my constricted throat proved impassable. With no luck there, I decided I needed to get through this.
“I heard from a friend today.”
He adjusted on the couch, working to find a comfortable position. But knowing Cody, who’d always been highly empathetic, he wouldn’t be able to until he knew I was okay.
“Yeah? Was it bad news?”
I exhaled, gathering my courage. “No. She said I got an offer from the Bergman group. It’s my dream job. In New York.”