Chapter Nineteen
OWEN
I knew Spencer planned to marry Layla, but I didn’t realize he meant to propose on Christmas. Spencer isn’t the kind of person who makes decisions quickly. I assumed Layla coming to Maine this week was planting a seed for a future engagement.
Layla is marrying Spencer. Operation-Show-Layla-She’s-Worth-More-Than-a-Few-Million has failed. Why can’t she see Spencer is completely wrong for her? They will make each other miserable sooner rather than later. But at least she has her money. The thought carries a tinge of bitterness.
Brady elbows me. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He glares like I’m stupid. “Because the girl you love just got engaged to someone else.”
Love. It’s a strong word, but with the way my heart feels torn to bits, he might be right .
“She was never mine to love.” That didn’t stop me from falling for her.
As everyone approaches the couple, I leave the room and go through the house to the back deck. It’s cold outside, but the sky is clear and the sun is warm on my face. For once, there’s no wind blowing off the ocean.
Layla is engaged to Spencer. I was so sure I’d be able to convince her not to marry him. It doesn’t feel real. I don’t know how long I stand outside, but I’m shivering when Miles finds me and wraps a blanket around my shoulders. I pull it tight across my chest.
“Don’t you ever get a day off?” I ask. “Why aren’t you home with your family?”
He leans his elbows on the railing and looks out at the ocean. “My daughters are with their in-laws this year. I’ll see them on Sunday.”
I remember his daughters, twins a few years younger than me. I didn’t realize they were married. In my head, they’re still fifteen.
“It’s been fun being a part of your family Christmas this year,” he continues. “Without my wife, taking care of everyone has kept me busy and my thoughts occupied.”
I’m glad this has been a good week for him. I can’t say the same.
“I wish I’d stayed home,” I mutter. Now more than ever. At least then I wouldn’t have spent the week with Layla, only to have her marry my cousin.
“It meant a lot to Ms. Rheta that you and your family are here,” Miles says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Just Ms. Rheta? I’ve noticed you and my mom together often this week. What are your intentions?” I speak in a jovial tone to let him know I’m not upset, but I am curious.
He laughs. “We’ve been reconnecting. Though, I won’t lie. If Marianne is interested in more than friendship, I’d like that.”
It’s what I suspected, and though I don’t like thinking of Mom with anyone but Dad, life goes on. Mom hasn’t been this happy in eight years, and it isn’t only because she has her family back.
“You have my support,” I say.
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.” He looks back at the ocean with a wide grin, but then sobers. “I’m glad I caught you alone. There’s something I want to tell you about your grandfather.”
My mood instantly sours. “I’d rather you not.”
Miles ignores my request. “He wasn’t a horrible person. He wasn’t perfect, but he loved you.”
I snort.
“He missed you,” Miles continues. “He never stopped hoping you would answer his calls.”
I shake my head. “He only called to try to convince me to come back to the firm so he could control me, not because he cared.”
“Mr. Eccleston might not have liked your father, but he wasn’t a malicious man. Never did he want something horrible to happen to him. He regretted how he treated you and how he spoke about your father after his stroke.”
I don’t believe Miles. For Grandfather, it was his way or you no longer existed. He didn’t care about me or Mom and definitely not Dad because we were outside of his control.
“He never said that,” I argue .
Miles nods. “He did, on multiple occasions, and I thought you should know. You were a brilliant lawyer and I hate thinking you gave that up because of how he treated you and your father. He wanted to ask for your forgiveness.”
I don’t want to accept this as the truth. I take a few minutes to sort through my thoughts and emotions about why, and it becomes clear. It means Grandfather died with an apology he never got to give. I took that away from him, and that doesn’t sit well.
Until I remember, there is more than one way to reach out. He could have sent me a postcard or hired a skywriter if he was desperate enough. Mom would have answered his call. If he made peace with her, then I would have spoken to him again. Maybe he regretted how he handled the situation, but he didn’t try hard enough to tell me himself.
Still, I can’t disregard all of of Miles’ words. I loved Grandfather for half of my life. The summers I spent with him were my favorite months of the year. I think back to my time at the law firm. I might not have enjoyed practicing law, but I enjoyed working with him. Not only did I lose my father eight years ago, I lost my grandfather.
I hope what Miles said is true and Grandfather came to understand how his actions hurt my family. If so, then I accept the apology he never gave me. The last of the anger I’ve held on to disintegrates. If Mom can forgive and move on, then so can I. I breathe deeply, maybe for the first time since Dad’s funeral.
“Thank you, Miles.”
He nods. “I’m glad you came this Christmas. Your Grandmother has missed you. I’ve missed you.” He slaps me on the back and walks toward the door. “Lunch is being served in the dining room.”
Spencer will know the moment I walk in that I’ve been sulking. He’ll probably insist Layla sit in his lap just to needle me. Layla will see my devastation. Mom and Brady will offer silent sympathy. I can’t handle everyone right now.
“I’m not hungry.”
He stops with his hand on the knob and studies me. “I’ll bring lunch up to your room and tell Ms. Rheta you’re not feeling well.”
I head upstairs to my purple oasis and eat the lunch Miles brings me. I flip through the channels on TV until I fall asleep. When I wake, it’s dark. I lie in bed and think about Layla. About how much I admire her. How I love her. How there is nothing I can do about her engagement to Spencer.
He won. I have to respect Layla’s choice and let her go. My acceptance of the situation isn’t easy; it’s downright depressing, but unavoidable.
I’ve missed one meal, and that’s enough wallowing. It would be a crime to miss Christmas dinner. I change out of my wrinkled shirt and head downstairs. As luck would have it, I run into Layla as she exits the family room.
“Owen!” She sounds shocked to see me and takes a step back, then makes sure the door shuts behind her as if us meeting in the hallway is something illicit. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yes.” Seeing her with Spencer’s ring on her finger is an ice pick to my chest, but I will listen to anything she wants to tell me.
The family room door opens. Her eyes widen. She takes my hand and pulls me to the first door she comes to, which is a walk-in closet full of towels, bedding, and cleaning supplies. It smells like lemon polish.
The door shuts, leaving us in pitch dark.
She feels along the wall, and a second later the overhead light flips on.
“Can I help you with something?” My eyebrows raise as I glance around at our intimate location.
She blushes. “I need you to understand me.”
The humor I find in our surroundings flees. I rub my eyes. “Layla, it’s honestly none of my business what choices you make. You don’t owe me any explanation.”
“I do. Even if you don’t need to hear it, I need to say it. I don’t take my decision to marry Spencer lightly.” Her shoulders slump. “I’m tired of being alone.”
There’s more to her decision than loneliness because I’m standing right here. “Then why Spencer? Once married, you’ll be more alone than ever because he’s a workaholic.”
She won’t meet my eyes. They’re focused on my chest. “When I was ten years old, my mom lost her job. She slept a lot and Nana assumed she was depressed, but it turned out she had colon cancer. No insurance. Four years of treatment. Opa and Nana worked past retirement to pay off the medical debt. We lived on a strict budget until they paid the last bill and they could finally retire. Opa died two years later.”
I want to reach out and touch her, offer her comfort, but I remain still, my hands at my side. “I’m sorry, Layla. That’s awful.”
She glances up and meets my eyes for a second before she looks away. The sheets on the shelf have her complete attention.
“It was stressful. You don’t know how that much debt feels, especially as a teenager. I worked hard for scholarships and grants because I knew we had no money to pay for college. When I started teaching, it was the first time in my life I didn’t have to account for every penny.” She hangs her head and rubs at her temple as if ashamed for her past actions. “I bought a nice car and went on vacations. I went clothes shopping every weekend. I lived it up and spent money like I would always have more. So stupid. I knew better.”
“That’s not living it up,” I say. “That’s living. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I should have saved for a rainy day. If there is anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that a financial disaster is just around the corner.”
“Layla, no.”
I want to say more, but how can I argue? I’ve never been in Layla’s situation. When I was growing up, we didn’t have much, but we always had enough. We took a road trip every year and went out to eat at least once a week. I never felt poor until I compared my situation to my cousins.
Layla shakes her head. “I should have saved money instead of vacationing in Hawaii so that when Nana was scammed out of everything, we would’ve had something to fall back on.”
Scammed . I know about Layla’s debt and her reason for marrying Spencer, but to find out some person stole from her grandma has me furious. How do people like that exist in this world? My jaw clenches so tight that I can’t speak a word, but what can I say except that I want to find that scammer and pummel him into the ground? What’s done is done.
She surprises me when she pokes me in the chest. Hard. “For a year-and-a-half I’ve done everything I can think of to pay for Nana’s care. I’m exhausted. So don’t judge me. You don’t know what it’s like to be financially depleted and emotionally spent. To be drowning in debt with no way to pay it off. My future is bleak. Spencer has offered to take care of everything. I want relief. I want to breathe again. I want to live. Be happy for me.”
I can’t, now even more so than yesterday. My resolve from twenty minutes ago to let her make her choice without my interference disintegrates. I have one last chance to convince her this reasoning is wrong, and I can’t let it pass me by.
“I can help you with money for your grandma,” I say. “I sold my manufacturing company at the beginning of the year, remember? I have more money than I know what to do with. I ask for nothing in return. You don’t even have to see me again after this week, if that’s what you want.” Though I hope that option isn’t on the table. “Just don’t marry Spencer.”
She breathes out a long breath. When she looks at me, conviction shines in her eyes. “Spencer needs me, just like I need him. Our agreement to marry is mutually beneficial. I can’t accept your money because there’s no benefit to you.”
I want to shake sense into her. “Helping you would make me happy. If that’s not beneficial, then what is?”
Layla leans forward and kisses my cheek. Her lips are soft. The scent of peppermint clings to her, and I wonder absently how many candy canes she’s eaten today.
“I can’t pull you into my financial mess when I have nothing to give you in return,” she whispers. “Thank you for a lovely Christmas.”
She opens the door and leaves, flipping off the light switch before shutting me in the dark.
A second later, she reaches back in to turn on the light. “Sorry. Habit.”
It doesn’t matter if the light is on or off, the devastation Layla’s caused remains either way.
LAYLA
Stepping out of the closet may be one of the hardest things that I’ve asked of myself. I’m leaving Owen behind for good. He truly wants to help me, but I can’t accept. If only–
No. I’m not wishing for something that can never be. Spencer and I will have a functional, mutually beneficial marriage. We will be happy together.
Just as soon as I forget all about Owen.
It won’t be easy. When he didn’t come to lunch or show up this afternoon for the poker game in the family room, I kept glancing at the door, anticipating his arrival. It will be hard to untangle my feelings for him when all I want is to be with him.
One moment at a time, beginning now.
I need a few minutes alone to decompress. I’ve never shared with anyone the details of my childhood like I did to Owen just now. The emotions the memories brought up, as well as saying goodbye to him, have worn me out.
When I saw Owen, I was on my way upstairs to grab my phone charger since my phone is almost dead after all the pictures I’ve taken today. I’ll take a breather in my room before going back into the family room.
Tori comes down the stairs as I head up them.
“Have you seen Owen?” she asks.
Um, maybe. Tori is the only one who hasn’t caught on to my feelings for the wrong cousin, and I’d like to keep it that way.
“Why?” I ask.
“I went up to his room to see if he was feeling better, but he isn’t there. Sadie wants to show him the drawings she made with the markers and paper he gave her for Christmas.”
“I’m sure he’ll show up. Will Sadie show me her artwork as we wait? I’d love to see her drawings.”
I loop my arm through hers and head back to the family room. It’s better if she doesn’t see Owen exit the closet. It would lead to more questions and this entire episode needs to be put behind us.