Chapter Twenty-One
“You should’ve seen her, Kels. She’s gorgeous. The two of them together in the same room made me feel like a short, fat ogre. And it’s not just that I cannot compete with her, is that Peyton didn’t even blink when I left. As if she thought the same thing.”
Josie could clearly remember Peyton’s shell-shocked expression when Sorel had barged through the front door, as if Peyton hadn’t just seen a simple ghost, but a ghost of someone she had once loved.
There was a difference. Josie had noticed it immediately.
She had seen the longing in Peyton’s eyes, the hurt, the love, the intrigue.
“Wouldn’t you be shocked?” said Kelsey. “If the fiancé you—
“Like how gorgeous is she, really?” interrupted Mark, completely off-topic. He cocked his head to the side like he was having a hard time believing Josie’s description. “Margot Robbie gorgeous or Jennifer Garner pretty. There’s a difference.”
Kelsey smacked her husband across the elbow. “Not the right question to be asking, Mark. Where’s your tact?”
He shrugged, then fell back onto the couch and reached for the bowl of popcorn sitting on the table.
Mark had been watching some or other reality show with subtitles when Josie arrived at their house, tears streaking down her cheeks.
She would have come sooner but the two and their kids had only gotten back from Santa Barbara that morning and Kelsey could only do so much damage control over the phone.
Josie had spent most of Saturday and all of Sunday, talking herself out of driving to Los Osos, banging on that door, and confessing her feelings. She had a lot of feelings.
Instead, she had told herself that Peyton just needed time, a few days at best, and when she was ready, she would call.
But there had been no call. No text. Nothing at all.
Josie had told herself it was fine, that everything would work out as it should, that fate would never bring two people so right for each other together, only to rip them apart.
But come Sunday morning, Josie had reached her breaking point.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Peyton and Sorel together—arms entwined, bodies like a pretzel, lips stuck to each other.
It was disturbing and nauseating. Late Sunday evening, after half a bottle of Pinot Grigio, she had even made herself cry—like an ugly cry.
Hence, why Josie was at her sister’s place, begging for Kelsey to either give her advice or a lobotomy. Anything to take these painful feelings away.
“I’m sure you’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about,” said Kelsey, running her palm down Josie’s shoulder. “Peyton likes you for you. And you’re fucking great. Who cares if this Sorel woman is hotter than the sun? It doesn’t matter. She seems like a terrible person, anyway.”
“Thanks,” mumbled Josie, not feeling any better.
“You’ll see. It will all work out.”
If only it were that easy. Telling Josie not to worry about Peyton’s hot ex-fiancé suddenly appearing out of thin air was like telling a woman struggling with fertility that all they had to do was relax; it’ll happen.
It made her feel slightly sick. Especially when Josie remembered all Peyton had said about the woman.
That day on the beach, Peyton hadn’t just told her about Sorel leaving her at the altar; she had shared everything, the way she had loved the woman with all her heart and more and how her heart had split into pieces.
Even then, Josie had felt a sharp prick of jealousy, convinced she could never be loved that intensely by Peyton. But she had put the thought out of her head easily enough. Sorel was gone. Peyton was a different person than she was back then, she had said so herself.
But what if she wasn’t? What if seeing Sorel again brought back those millions of feelings, the good outweighing the bad?
Josie swallowed hard.
“Why don’t you call her?” said Kelsey, crossing the living room to pick up one of Charlie’s princess ponies.
“I already have. She’s not answering.”
“Text her then.”
“You mean add another one to the thirty messages I’ve already sent?” groaned Josie, flopping down onto the other couch. She brought her knees up, folded her arms around them, and rested her chin in the dip between them. “She probably thinks I’m desperate.”
“You kind of sound like you are,” Mark said absentmindedly. He had his eyes on the TV screen while he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Like real desperado.”
Kelsey shot her husband a look—one he didn’t bother reacting to—and ran her teeth over her bottom lip, concentrating on a stain on the coffee table. Her hands were on her hips, her brows furrowed, and she looked a lot like their mother. “Give her an ultimatum.” She even sounded like their mother.
“What does that mean?”
Kelsey scratched at a spot on her nose and looked earnestly out the window like the answers might be sitting in the leaves of the California sycamore towering over the sidewalk.
“Tell her to meet you somewhere. Somewhere special and if she doesn’t show, then you need to face things, Jo, and move on.
I know you want to believe in fate but maybe…
” her voice trailed off and then she sighed loudly, and walked over to her husband, sinking down onto his belly.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and Kelsey leaned into him, encircling her left arm around his neck, and smiling softly when he pressed his lips to her cheek.
That was exactly what Josie wanted. Love that knew no bounds.
Despite it all, despite the hottie with the body that made even Josie nervous, despite Peyton’s past with Sorel, despite everything, Josie knew they were meant to be together.
It was a hunch, perhaps. Or maybe a divine nudge from her father above, who always spoke about love as if it was the only thing that mattered.
There was nothing more beautiful, more natural than two souls finding each other.
“I don’t think that will work.”
“I did it to Mark.”
“She did,” Mark nodded, chewing with his mouth open. “Third date. Said she wanted to be my girlfriend and if I show up at the roller rink on South Street, that I wanted the same thing.”
“He was waiting for me for nearly two hours before I showed up.”
“True love baby.”
“You guys make me want to vomit,” Josie groaned, sticking her finger into her mouth to prove a point. “I don’t know why I even come here. Except, of course, to visit my niece and nephew.”
Kelsey laughed and slung her arm around her husband’s neck. “Stop moaning and message Peyton.”
~~
Josie dug her feet into the warm evening sand and scanned the beach, her gaze touching every car, every face ambling along the shore, every person who wasn’t Peyton.
That would’ve been fine an hour ago when Josie had arrived at the beach at exactly six p.m., the time she had messaged Peyton.
But now the sun was sitting lower in the sky and the excuses Josie had told herself—Peyton had probably gotten holed up at work, or she was battling traffic coming into Morro Bay; or she had misread the message and was waiting at Josie’s apartment, sitting cross-legged on the welcome mat—sounded weak.
The warm summer breeze skimmed over the bare skin of Josie’s shoulders.
It wasn’t close to being cold, yet she wrapped her arms tightly over her chest and flicked her head to get the hair out of her face.
In front of her, Morro Rock stood large and imposing against the soft blue and pink sky.
Waves licked the shores, ebbing and flowing as if they didn’t have a single care in the world.
Josie couldn’t relate. Her problem—though minuscule compared to many people’s real-world problems—felt cataclysmic. In her world it felt like a huge tidal wave sweeping away a tiny town.
Funny how one minute Josie was so sure things were going well, that they would enjoy pancakes and bacon, and probably share kisses on the couch, and if the mood allowed it, it would lead to something more.
It could lead to something sexy and hot and wonderful.
But then the next minute, whatever thoughts Josie had about their possible future were snatched away like a dream by the first light of dawn.
Either fate didn’t exist, and her dad was wrong. Maybe he believed in something outlandish all his life and passed on the belief without considering what it would do to Josie’s mental state. Or maybe Josie wasn’t deserving of it.
She checked her phone again. It was nearing seven-thirty. Peyton wasn’t showing. The woman was always early, like clockwork—
Her cell phone vibrated.
Josie sucked in a breath, glanced down at the screen, and then sighed loudly when she read Kelsey’s name, tears welling behind her eyes.
“Has Peyton shown up yet?”
“Nope.”
Kelsey clicked her tongue, muttered something under her breath to Mark, who was probably still on the couch, and then said, “How about you stay with us tonight?”
“Okay,” Josie said softly, not at all in the mood to be alone. She needed distractions, and what better distractions than cuddling with Noah and Charlie? “I’m just going to wait here for another few minutes.”
“I’ll head over to your place and pack you a bag. Mark will have a glass of wine ready for you when you get here,” said Kelsey.
“Okay,” Josie said again, though nothing felt okay.