Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
I set my bags by the front door and faced my family.
“I wish—I wish there was a way to reconcile all of this. Really, I do. But right now... this isn’t the place for me. I have to put the pieces of my life back together at home. I can’t just—” The words lodged in my throat as I glanced around at the old house. The house that was so much more alive today than it was three months ago.
Félicité set a hand on my forearm and gently squeezed. “It’s all good, Elodie. Don’t despair. You’ll be back someday. Once you’ve had rosé du Provence , you can never go back. I promise.”
“I have no doubt. And you’ll have to come out to California. You’ll love it. We can go wine tasting.” I winked, and she pressed a hand to her heart, pretending to be offended by the suggestion.
“I will not tell Remi you said such a thing,” she teased.
I smiled, but my heart clenched at the sound of his name.
Her expression softened, as if sensing my inner turmoil. “Have you said your goodbyes, then?” she asked.
I nodded slowly. “We did. Have. I think we’ve said all we need to. It doesn’t have to be—so dramatic, you know?”
She smiled and nodded, though I saw the doubt in her eyes.
“Drawn-out goodbyes are never good for anyone.”
“We will miss you at the helm,” étienne said, wrapping his arms around me in a hug that was still stiff but warm for him. “I was getting used to having an older sister bossing us around. It gave me a break from having to do it.”
“You were a much better boss, I assure you,” Régis added, leaning in for a tight hug.
“I’ll add it to my résumé.” I pulled away and turned to a bright-eyed Danielle. “Take care of yourself. I can’t wait to meet this little one.”
Danielle hugged me tight. “I’m glad he or she will have a sensible American auntie to lean on.”
I laughed.
"Well," I said, my voice only slightly wobbly, "I guess this is it."
"This isn't goodbye," Colette whispered fiercely. "It's à bient?t . You hear me? Soon."
There was so much I wanted to say, so much left unresolved between us. But before I could even think of where to begin, the crunch of gravel announced the arrival of my taxi.
"That’s me," I said.
There was a flurry of last-minute hugs, kisses, and promises to call as soon as I landed. As I climbed into the taxi, I took one last look at the tableau before me.
As the taxi pulled away, I felt a piece of my heart staying behind, forever rooted in the sun-drenched soil.