Chapter 43
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
Emelia
I’m in the middle of my deep dive, trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on with the proposed development, when I realize I left the paper I printed off at the library earlier today in my car.
“Shit.” I flop back on the bed.
Why can’t I be the kind of person who can take in loads of information when it’s in digital form? I’ve always preferred the printed page to scrolling on a computer.
With a groan, I roll off the bed, slip on my shoes, and throw on my jacket.
The crisp air hits me the minute I swing open the door, and I hurry across the lawn, key fob in hand.
The main house is lit up, and I can’t stop myself from looking, knowing that tonight is the night that Kate is coming over for dinner.
What I see stops me in my tracks. Elliott’s back is to me, so I can only see the back of his head. But I can clearly see Baylor sitting beside Kate, the two of them laughing. There’s a tug in my chest. I’m not even sure why, because I’m happy that Baylor will know her mother.
I wasn’t going to be that figure in her life because Elliott and I were never going the distance. I just wish someone could have told my heart.
It takes me a minute to realize that the old feeling of not quite fitting, of being the puzzle piece that almost slides into place but doesn’t, is edging back in.
I shake my head and continue to my car. It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving soon anyway, and I always was. I was never meant to fit.
After I grab what I need, I hurry back to the bunkie, forcing myself not to look back at the main house over my shoulder. When I’m inside, I bring the documents over to my bed and go over them, forcing myself to put my feelings from moments ago aside for now.
I look back over the spreadsheet—the project costs, projected revenue, and return on investments. I’ve seen this all before. This is the same information I presented at the first town hall. These are all the community-facing numbers. I need to look at the underlying assumptions.
Sliding my computer onto my lap, I log onto the company system so that I can see the underlying assumptions these figures are based on.
It takes a lot of digging, but an hour and a half later, I find it.
The revenue projections are based on a footprint that’s much bigger than the parcel the town controls.
And when I add it all together, that total number is pretty damn close to the town parcel and the size of the three LLC parcels.
My suspicion is correct. My company had already bought up a bunch of parcels surrounding the town land before I even arrived in town.
And they’ve been lying about it. Why, I don’t know.
Maybe my boss knew I wouldn’t go along with it, or maybe he wanted to send me in here none the wiser so I’d come off as sincere, and then he could pull a bait and switch, assembling the parcels once the deal on the town parcel closed.
But whatever the reason, the result is the same. I’ve been lying to these people.
These people who invited me in for coffee and told me their family history that went back generations in Echo Lake. These people I’ve come to care about. People like Elliott and his daughter.
Guilt runs like a steady stream through my veins.
There’s still time to correct what’s been done. But the cost will be steep.
It’s either my job or saving Echo Lake.
And it doesn’t matter which I choose. I’ll be left with nothing in the end.
Elliott texted me last night after Kate left to ask if I wanted to meet up, but I was still reeling from my discovery and the ramifications, so I put him off, telling him I was exhausted and going to bed early. In fact, I was up half the night, unable to sleep.
He texted me this morning, asking if I would meet him at the Whispering Pines Pub for a drink, and I agreed. I need to confess to him what I found.
When I arrive, he’s already there, seated at one of the round bar-top tables inside, near the back of the bar. He raises a hand and waves me over.
I say a quick hello to Fowler as I walk past the bar.
“You want a drink?” he asks.
“Maybe just a glass of white wine if you have it. Whatever is fine.”
He nods. “I’ll be right over with it.”
After thanking him, I continue on to the table where Elliott waits. He stands when I reach him, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on my lips. I force myself not to pull back at his touch because I don’t deserve it anymore.
“Hey, where’s Baylor?” I ask as I slide onto the high stool.
“Hollis agreed to watch her for a bit. He’s going to put her to work and let her help sand a new piece he’s working on.”
“Free labor in exchange for babysitting. I like it.”
Fowler appears at the side of the table and slides a glass of wine in front of me. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I waste no time bringing it to my lips and taking a long sip. I’m going to need it with what I have to tell Elliott.
Fowler returns to the bar, and Elliott tilts his head at me, so I set down the glass.
“How did things go with Kate last night?”
Elliott presses his lips together and reaches for his beer, peeling back the edges of the label. “All right, I guess. I can tell that Baylor is already getting more attached. Kate is adjusting well, I suppose. She seemed more comfortable than she did the first time she came around.”
“That all sounds positive.”
“It is. At least at this point. We’ll see how it pans out.”
I nod, feeling awkward having this conversation when I know there are so many bigger things I need to tell him.
The words are right there, pressing against my lips, waiting to come out.
But I can’t say them. I don’t know why. Maybe I just want to enjoy this for a few more minutes before I ruin it and he never looks at me the same way again.
I’m not looking forward to seeing the contempt and resentment return to his eyes when he regards me.
I take another long drink from my wine.
“Emelia, I can tell you feel uncomfortable, and I think I might know what’s going on.”
“You do?” The words practically emerge as a squeak.
He nods, reaching to take my hand.
My eyes widen.
“I know I’ve been a little…preoccupied lately with everything going on. I apologize.”
“Elliott, you don’t have anything to apologize for. In fact, I—”
He raises his hand, and I stop speaking. “Please, just let me get this out while I can, okay? Then you can say whatever you need to.”
I open my mouth to tell him what I have to, then close it, nodding.
He squeezes my hand. “I know I’m changing course here.
I know we said we wouldn’t worry about what this is between us until we absolutely had to, but it’s bearing down on us, and I don’t need to wait to know what I want.
” He blows out a breath. “I want you to stay. And yes, I know how unfair it is for me to ask you this. You have a great job in Boston, a budding career. There’s nothing here for you except Baylor and me.
If I could pick up and move to be with you, I would, but that’s not the reality of my situation.
Baylor’s family is here, and I need her to be surrounded with loved ones because I’m all she’s got.
But know that if it was just me, I’d move to be with you, Emelia.
I would. I guess what I’m saying is that I love you.
I love you, and I want you to stay and build a life here with me and see what this could be. ”
I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it was not that.
My mouth drops open, and I stare at him, wide-eyed, completely wrecked. Because I love him too. I love him and Baylor, but if he knew…if he knew…
“Elliott, you don’t want to be with me.”
“Were you listening to anything I just said? I love you, Em. I want to see if we can make a go at it for real.”
Unshed tears burn my eyes, and I blink them back.
He wouldn’t feel this way if he knew what I know. And I’m not sure he’ll believe me when I tell him I had no idea what the company I work for was really planning.
And what about the residents of Echo Lake?
Would they? And if they didn’t, how would Elliott feel, being in a relationship with the woman they think tried to help bring down this town?
He takes pride in his community and feels protective of it.
It’s at the core of who he is. Could he really be with the woman who effectively wears a scarlet letter everywhere she goes?
“Elliott, I don’t know what to say.” Tears build in my eyes because the last thing I want to do is hurt this man, but I know that’s what I’m about to do.
He must see something on my face, because he lets go of my hand, and his lips press together.
I don’t want to give him false hope by telling him that I feel the same way, because he only feels that way because he doesn’t have all the information.
My head is swimming, and I don’t know what to say.
Maybe in the back of my mind, I’ve just been waiting for the thing that would prove to me I don’t fit here, and this whole situation with my work is it.
“I’m sorry, I can’t…”
No more words come, and panic wells up inside me.
So instead of saying anything, I revert to my old pattern, and I run.
I grab my purse and bolt from the pub. I’m used to making a run for it when that itchy, panicked feeling of not belonging becomes too much, but I’m usually moving to a different state for a new job, not running away from the man I love.
I push through how wrong it feels to get farther from him with every footstep. Running has never felt this bad before.
But it’s all too much right now. I can’t think straight.
I rush back to Elliott’s house and quickly pack up some things before he returns with Baylor. Then I start the drive back to Boston.
This may be the first place I ever really felt like I fit, but that’s over now. It’s broken, and I need to figure out how to fix it. And I know this is something I have to do by myself, for myself.
Because as much as I want to be Elliott’s, to be Baylor’s, I need to know I earned my spot there first. And if I don’t, I’ll never feel like that’s where I fit.