Chapter 24
twenty-four
LYDIA
Autumn: What happened??
Lydia: Are you at home?
I’ve barely even hit send when a call from Autumn pops up on the screen. Sighing, I answer it, and she launches right in.
“Are you in the car already? Because I’m sitting here on the couch, and I can clearly see a bottle of red on the table with your name all over it.”
“Ha. Is that an invitation?”
“Girl, duh. Patrick’s in New York, you need a getaway, and I need to hear details. It’s a done deal.”
I hang up, grab my toothbrush, a pair of sweats, and a comfy t-shirt to sleep in, and hop in the car. She doesn’t need to tell me twice.
Autumn’s lake house is a getaway. It’s just outside of Hawthorne Bay proper, located in this gated community of gorgeous houses clustered around a picturesque little New England lake.
With Autumn’s husband in New York, it means we’ll have the house to ourselves—the whole huge, rustic mansion on the lake.
It’s always so clean and cozy, with its polished hardwood floors and towering, stone fireplace.
The boathouse and the dock, the gardener’s cabin, the fire pit on the patio, the perfectly manicured front lawn.
I guess it’s part of why she turned a blind eye to Patrick’s… philandering… the way she did, although I don’t think I’d ever say that to her. To each her own. It’s not like I’ve made wonderful choices when it comes to men.
When I pull up at Autumn’s house, she ushers me inside.
She’s got a fire going in the fireplace, and a bottle of wine under her arm, upside down wine glasses dangling between her fingers.
We plop down on the sofas in front of the fire, snuggling up with the big fuzzy blankets Autumn keeps handy all over the living room.
Autumn pours me a generous glass of wine as I launch into the story. I leave out how Will and I spent this afternoon. Because honestly, I don’t even want to admit it. I feel so played.
“Well, I think the fact that Will was planning to tell you is a good sign,” Autumn points out as she downs her second glass of wine. She reaches for the bottle.
“Yeah, well, he can plan all he wants, but the fact remains that he didn’t tell me.” I’m drinking more slowly than Autumn is, but she tops up my glass, anyway.
“I mean… that’s true. He could also just be saying that because he likes sticking his penis inside you. But, like, men can get that shit anywhere. Ask me how I know.” She raises an eyebrow over her wine glass.
“Yeah…”
I haven’t told Autumn about the cold wave that washed through my body when I saw that text on Will’s phone.
I’ve barely even let myself register it.
Because, deep down, I know that wave of despair wasn’t only about the library.
It was also about him. About how, apparently, the last few weeks meant nothing to him.
“I’m just saying,” Autumn says, gesturing with her wine glass. She glances out the window. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. Weird energy, you know? Don’t give up hope yet.”
I snort. I have no idea what the full moon has to do with this.“Hope of what? That Will might still talk Ethan Wilde out of that damn computer lab? Or that he’ll… like…”
My voice trails off. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to admitting to anyone that there might be more to my tryst with Will than just sex.
Autumn smirks. She knows where that sentence was going. “That he’ll what?”
“Nothing. He’s an asshole. All I want is for him to nix that stupid lab.”
Autumn studies me. She certainly doesn’t need wine to say what’s on her mind, but she’s even more loose lipped after a couple glasses. “I know you think preserving the library is the only way to keep a connection with your mom, but… it seems like there’s got to be another way.”
“What? Like sitting around reminiscing with my dad over photo albums? Get real.”
I haven’t spoken to my dad since he called me that morning at Brewed Awakening, wanting to introduce me to whoever it is he’s “seeing.” I know I should call him, but I’m still resistant to the thought of him being with anyone but my mom.
There’s also the fact I’m still hurt by how checked out he was for so long.
Autumn snorts. “Come on, Lydia. You know that’s not what I’m saying. I just… I don’t know, maybe there’s a different way you can honor her memory.”
I don’t want to entertain the thought because I know what she’s trying to get at. I eye her suspiciously. “I thought you just said there was hope for the library.”
“I did, but I just want you to be prepared. You know, so you don’t knee Will in the balls and get arrested for assault. And speaking of Will’s balls…”
“Nope! We’re not going to sit here and talk about Will Holloway’s testicles.”
I knock my head back and finish the wine in my glass. We’re going to need to open another bottle if Autumn’s going to keep talking about Will all night.
Even if it was just sex, there’s no forgetting how safe I felt, sitting in his lap with his arms around me, the waves crashing onto the shore.
The warmth of our bodies in the chill of the night air was like a microcosm of the safety we brought each other.
For even those few moments, we were each other’s shelter amidst the turmoil.
Jesus Christ, I need to get it together. This wine is turning me into a total sap. I grab the bottle and swig directly from it while Autumn cackles.
We spend the rest of the weekend like that, drinking wine and laughing, chatting and poking good-natured fun at one another.
Autumn doesn’t bring up Will again, and neither do I.
Because I don’t need to—no matter what I do, his face is in my head.
I can even feel the memory of his low, gruff voice rumbling through my chest as he lies on top of me.
I don’t even know what can be done about the library by now.
Getting the board to change their design plans now feels like a distant pipe dream, and I’m realizing just how helpless I am to change any of it.
But still, knowing that Will’s helping the process along, that he’s playing nice with Ethan Wilde and the rest of them, that they’re paying him and he’s selling out…
It's lonely as hell.
And there’s not enough wine in the world to make me forget him.