Chapter 43 Olena
OLENA
The final touches at the Faulkners’ property wrap up Friday afternoon.
The fertilizer is spread, the grass mowed one last time, and the irrigation system is turned on.
I spend the afternoon with my camera, taking the pictures that will be the after photos of my before-and-after set for the project—at least until I can get a final set done later in the spring when all the plants have settled and the new flowers are blooming.
Wyatt and Nat text me throughout the day to check in, likely a team effort on their part to ensure I’m safe.
They help distract me from the ball of dread and anxiety that’s taken up residence in my stomach.
Holed up with my camera in the sunken garden, I’m grateful to have a private place to linger.
Finding I need a break from the constant, chirping text notifications, I set my phone on silent and toss it onto one of the benches.
I take my last photos of the firepit and the view over the river.
I’m reviewing the images on the camera’s screen when the sound of approaching voices has my eyes snapping up to the pathway. Shit.
Jude’s been taking Charles and Carol on a walk-through, making sure there are no last steps that need to be flagged for completion before we pack up the equipment. Unable to stomach the possibility of being cornered into joining them, I hurry to leave.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I rush past the three of them on the path. “Sorry, just have to…” I trail off, holding up my camera and smiling apologetically like I’ve got more work to do. I barely meet Jude’s eyes.
Once I’ve safely escaped the sunken garden, I realize I’ve also finished all that I need to do.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, looking around at this beautiful property.
Spotting Jude’s team chatting across the yard, I head over to say my goodbyes.
I thank them for their hard work and tell them I hope to work with them all again—which I do.
As awkward as things have been with Jude on and off throughout this project, this group has been unfalteringly professional and kind to me.
With Jude still busy touring the Faulkners around, I decide to leave without saying goodbye to them. Probably for the best, I think, pushing down the twinge of regret I feel about sneaking off. I’ll need to call Charles next week to follow up, anyway.
I drive home feeling vaguely numb. I get as far as my apartment door before I realize I left my phone behind. Shit. I know exactly where I left it. I can picture where I tossed it down on the bench in the sunken garden.
I groan at the thought of driving all the way back out there to get my phone. I briefly consider texting Carol to ask her to look for it, but then realize I’d need a phone to do that. Laughing joylessly at my dependence on modern technology, I unlock the door to my apartment.
Still holding my keys in my hand, the sudden realization I may never see Jude again descends over me and a wave of grief twists at my insides.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
Sinking slowly onto the chair beside the door, a weight settles deep in my gut at the idea of losing him for good. And I slunk away from work today like a fucking coward. How can I let that be it?
I shake my head. No. I can’t just let him go, especially not when I know I hurt him and never had the courage to apologize. Or to at least tell him how I feel.
Oh God. A sudden, gut-wrenching need to see him claws at me, threatening to swallow me whole. I already know in my bones I’m going back. And not just for my phone.
Sifting through the clutter in my room, it takes me several tries to find a pen that works so I can write Wyatt a note so he doesn’t worry about me when he gets off work and finds me gone.
With a drug-addicted stalker ex potentially on the loose, he’d obviously assume the worst. But, when even the ink of my one working pen runs out a few words into my message, I crumple the paper in anger and stuff my shoes back on.
It’ll be faster to just jog down to the deli.
Pulling open the door, I see the usual late afternoon crowd of high school students and seniors gathered inside, the savory smell of sandwich meats tempting me to grab an early dinner. But I don’t have time to eat.
Wyatt walks out of the back office, through the kitchen, and looks up; seeing my stricken face, his eyes are instantly on alert and he rushes to the counter to speak with me.
“Everything okay? What are you doing here?” he asks, his eyes shifting around behind me, probably scanning for Sean.
“I’m fine; everything’s fine,” I reassure him, still panting a bit from running there. “I just left my phone at work,” I explain. “And… I need to go back. To see Jude. I need to talk to him. I want to tell him I’m sorry.”
Wyatt tilts his head at me, unsure. “Okay…”
“I need to… I need to see him.” I’m getting impatient now, wishing I could just teleport myself there. “I need to apologize and explain. About Sean and about… Look, I just need to see him again, Wyatt!” I’m getting emotional and loud. That twisting feeling in my stomach is back.
“Okay, okay, it’s alright,” Wyatt says reassuringly, trying to calm me down so I don’t make a scene in front of his customers. He smiles politely at one of the deli patrons who’s staring at us while grabbing napkins from the nearby dispenser.
“I just needed to tell you where I was going,” I say quickly. “If I hurry, I can get back to work before he goes home.”
My anxiety is building; I need to get a move on.
“Okay,” Wyatt says, taking everything in. “Well, I guess… go get your man, babe.” He smiles and winks at me.
I smile nervously at him and rush back to the door. Before I push my way outside, I turn back and call out to him, grinning. “I will! And don’t call me babe!”