Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Derek
A mber’s been dodging me for days. I’ve tried to brush it off, telling myself she’s just busy with the wedding and all, but it’s too consistent to ignore.
I plan a date night for Friday. I’m set on making this happen—if she’s going to back out, I want her to do it with me standing in front of her. No more guessing.
Friday comes, and by late afternoon, I can feel the tension in my chest. I tell myself to wait until six, but at five thirty, I’m pulling up outside her house. If she’s thinking about ending things, she’ll need to say it to my face.
When she opens the door, she’s in the middle of fixing an earring, clearly not expecting me this early. I catch her look of surprise and something else—maybe worry?
“Derek,” she says, adjusting her dress. “You’re early.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “I wanted to talk to you. Can we sit down in the living room?”
I watch her hesitate, a flicker of something in her eyes before she nods and leads me to the couch. She sits down, her hands folded in her lap, and again, she doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Amber,” I start, choosing my words carefully, “something’s been going on. You’ve been distant lately. And if you don’t want this to go on, I need to know. I’m too old to be doing the half-in, half-out thing.”
She takes a breath, her gaze finally meeting mine. “I’m sorry, Derek. It’s not... I’m not trying to pull away. It’s just…” She hesitates, her voice faltering. “There’s been stuff on my mind.”
I nod, waiting, giving her the space to continue.
“It’s about Sharon,” she says quietly, and I feel a pang of dread twist in my stomach. “It’s like no matter how hard I try, I can’t get over the way she treated me back in high school. She tormented me. For no reason. She just—”
She stops, pressing her lips together. I can see the hurt there, raw and unresolved.
“Look,” I say slowly, “I understand it must have been hard. But that was a long time ago. Sharon was a good woman. She loved her family. She loved her kids.”
Amber lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “She was only a ‘good woman’ to the people she liked. I was never one of them.”
“People change. I never saw her be mean to anyone. I wish you could have known her…”
“I didn’t need to know her before she died, Derek. Bree, Sof, Teddy, they all knew her and said the same thing I’m telling you.”
What? That can’t be. Sharon loved Teddy and Sofia. To think that they would say bad things about her behind her back is…I can't wrap my head around it.
“Teddy wouldn’t…I think…”
She puts her hand up in the air quickly and shakes her head. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Sharon had her issues and her mood swings. I know that she wasn’t perfect, but…I think she changed. I can’t fathom that she would have done those things to you, but I believe that if you said she did, then she did.”
She rolls her eyes, and I notice she’s about ready to cry. She blows out a breath and stands. I’m already on the defensive as I’m learning a side of my late wife I never knew. The way Amber is walling me off, though, is exactly like Sharon would, and that was a big issue in our marriage. I can feel the irritation skyrocketing to the surface.
I try to keep my tone even as I say the words without really thinking them through. “Is that why you’re with me? To get back at her somehow?”
I immediately sit back, regretting what I said and wishing I would have paused to think about that a little harder. Amber isn’t the type of woman to do that.
She gasps, her mouth dropping open, looking at me like I just slapped her. She falls onto the couch next to me, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Why didn’t I think before I spoke? Now I’ve made her cry. I can’t stand hurting her.
“How could you even think that?”
I swallow. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—”
“No, Derek.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “You don’t get to say something like that and brush it off. I didn’t even know who you were until well after you kissed me at the winery! How dare you accuse me of something so low? If you’ll remember correctly, you approached me first and kissed me. So don’t put this on me as some giant conspiracy theory!”
Shit. She’s right. I’m such a fool.
“Amber, I didn’t mean—”
But she’s not listening. “You think I’m that petty?” she snaps. “That after all these years, I’d go that far just to get back at a high school bully?”
I try to reach out to her, but she pulls back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. I feel frustration simmering, my patience thinning as I look at her. “Amber, Sharon wasn’t how you remember her. She changed.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was a saint in your eyes,” she retorts. “But maybe you’re a little too close to see who she really was. Do you even know what she was planning before she died?”
I shake my head, not following. “What does that mean?”
“She was planning to sell the orchard, Derek,” she says, her words clipped. “She was going to sell it out from under you. And now her family is still pushing through with it. Do you know that?”
For a moment, I can’t breathe. The words don’t make sense, and all I can feel is a rising anger that I don’t quite understand. “That’s not true. Sharon wouldn’t have done that. You’re lying.”
She looks at me, her eyes full of hurt and defiance. “I’m not lying.”
She falls onto the couch again, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders are slumped like she’s defeated.
“I shouldn’t have said it like this. I’m sorry. I overheard Nora talking about it. I heard Nora tell someone at the dance that Sharon was planning to sell it to some development company, and now they’re trying to finish what she started.”
Her words cut deeper than I expect, like she’s implying I didn’t know my own wife. It definitely sounds like something David and Nora would do. It even makes sense as to why David has been trying to sabotage the orchard lately. It doesn’t sound like Sharon, though. We had our problems, but she would have never gone behind my back with this.
“That’s enough, Amber.”
Her face falls, the fire in her eyes turning to something colder, more distant. She looks at me, and for a moment, I see a glint of the hurt I must have caused her.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Of course, I don’t. Sharon and I had our problems, but she would never do something like this behind my back. She actually somehow got her parents to sell the farm to us without my knowledge. She wouldn’t have done that if she was going to turn around and sell it to a development corporation. The fact that you can sit here in front of me and accuse a dead woman of something so heinous is a new low! Did you even do research? No, you hate Sharon so much that you just start spewing lies to make yourself feel better.”
The words are out before I can stop them. The smart thing to do would be to get up and leave before we say anything else we’ll regret. I’m upset by all of this new information, and I can’t make sense of what I’m hearing.
“She was doing it behind your back!”
“I think it’s clear right now that we need a break. I need to figure this out.”
“So you’re just going to quit? You’re just going to dump me because I told you the truth? Of course!” she sobs.
“No, I think…”
“That’s great,” she hisses. “Get out!”
I don’t have a response. All I feel is anger and confusion, my trust fraying as I look at her. Without another word, I stand and walk out of her house, leaving her standing there, the silence stretching between us like a canyon.
What just happened?
I stomp to my truck, climb in, and start it. I pull out of her driveway and start driving. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know that I need to put space between us. Neither one of us was hearing each other.
This hurts like hell.
I can’t call my best friend about any of this because he’s her brother.
What do I do?
The ride home blurs together in a mess of frustration and disbelief. My jaw aches from clenching it so hard, but I can’t seem to shake Amber’s words out of my head. Sharon…selling the orchard behind my back? It doesn’t sit right.
The tires crunch over the gravel as I pull into the driveway, killing the engine but staying in the truck a minute longer than usual, hoping for the quiet to clear my head. I rub my temples and take a deep breath.
As I step out of the truck, I spot Mack across the yard, kicking back on the bunkhouse porch with a cold beer in hand. He waves me over, an easy grin on his face that I can’t return tonight. But somehow, sitting alone sounds worse than company, so I wander over.
“Rough day?” he asks, eyebrows raised as he hands me a beer.
I take it, twisting the cap off but just staring at it, watching the condensation drip down. “Something like that.”
He tilts his head, giving me a look that says he’s not buying my non-answer. He waits, patient as ever, until I finally break the silence.
“Amber,” I start, shaking my head, “she’s been…off. Tonight, she started saying things—things about Sharon that don’t make any damn sense.”
He stays quiet, just nodding as he sips his beer, letting me get it all out.
“She’s accusing Sharon of going behind my back. She says she overheard Nora talking.” I sigh, the anger simmering up again. “That woman gave everything to this place. Amber has got it all wrong.”
He takes a long drink, then finally sighs. “Derek, look, I ain’t here to judge, but…people don’t always show us every side of themselves, even people we’re close to. Sometimes they’ve got dreams we don’t know about.”
I bristle at that. “Dreams? You’re talking about selling the orchard, Mack. Not some vacation or weekend hobby.”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding slowly. “But maybe Sharon saw a future for the place that didn’t line up with yours. Maybe she thought it was what you wanted and didn’t want to worry you about it.”
I swallow, thinking back, trying to pick out any sign I’d missed. “But Sharon wouldn’t go that far without telling me. We always talked things over. She wasn’t…she wasn’t underhanded like that.”
He’s quiet for a second, looking out over the fields. “But look, I’ve heard talk before. There were rumors once, right? About developers wanting land up near the north side. Sharon wasn’t exactly opposed to it then, if I remember.”
I frown, that vague memory coming back. She’d mentioned it offhand once or twice, talking about how growth could help the town, bring in tourists, maybe even boost local businesses. But it wasn’t like she’d ever said she wanted to sell out.
“Sure, she was interested in the idea. But she wouldn’t have gone through with it. Not without me.”
“Maybe. But you gotta admit, sometimes folks get ideas, big ideas, and they don’t always think to loop us in when they start planning.”
I let out a breath, the anger draining into something more like confusion. “I don’t know. This feels like a stretch. Amber’s got history with Sharon. I’m starting to wonder if she’s got her own agenda here.”
“Do you really believe that, or are you shocked and hurt by the idea that maybe your late wife isn’t who you thought she was? Amber doesn’t seem like someone who’d lie just for the hell of it. You know her. She wouldn’t just throw accusations like this around to get back at someone.”
The truth of that sits heavy in my gut. I think back to her face tonight, the flash of hurt when I questioned her motives, and something in me twists.
Had I pushed her too hard?
“But this would mean Sharon…I mean, if Amber’s right, that means she was planning something huge without telling me. That’s not the Sharon I knew.”
He takes another sip, shrugging. “Maybe not. You know how her parents are, though, and that’s definitely something they would do.”
“But Amber said…”
“You said she overheard. Maybe she was just relaying what she overheard, and you got all butthurt without hearing everything she had to say.”
I let out a low groan before taking a long pull from my drink.
“I didn’t know she and Sharon knew each other, and then to hear they had beef. There’s been so much thrown at me lately. I’ve been…scared that I was going to lose Amber the same way I lost Sharon and that the kids would go through that grief again. I think I overreacted instead of listening.”
I scrub my face with my hands as I let that realization sink in. I’ve been overwhelmed and frustrated because of David’s antics. I’ve been scared that Amber was pulling away, and I haven’t been sleeping. I definitely overreacted, and I feel like shit for doing so.
“Look, I ain’t sayin’ Amber’s right. But sometimes the people we’re close to keep things from us. They think they’re protectin’ us or maybe just savin’ us from worry. But if Amber’s riskin’ things between you two to tell you this, maybe it’s worth listening. At least, think about it. Are you willing to risk your relationship with Amber by choosing what you thought you knew about Sharon over what she’s telling you?”
I stare down at my beer as I roll the bottle between my palms.
I hadn’t thought of it in those terms. I chose the ghost of my late wife over my current girlfriend, over the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. That’s a problem.
I finally look back up at Mack, still not quite convinced. “Do you think she’s right? You think Sharon was sneaking around, planning to sell off the orchard behind my back?”
“I don’t know, Derek. But I think Amber cares about you enough to put herself in the line of fire if it meant protecting you. And sometimes it’s the people on the outside who see things clearer than we do. Just think on it, alright? It doesn’t mean you gotta believe her right off. Just think about it.”
I take a long drink of my beer, staring out over the fields that Sharon and I built our lives around, the land we poured our hearts into.
C ould she have really been planning to throw all that away? And if she was, then why?
Mack finishes his beer and gives me a clap on the shoulder, his voice softer this time. “I’m not sayin’ it’s easy, buddy. But maybe it’s worth a conversation. Amber’s good people. And if you care about her…well, sometimes you gotta trust she’s telling you the truth, even if it’s hard to swallow.”
And with that, he disappears into the house, leaving me alone on the porch, the weight of his words pressing down on me.
I stare out at the orchard, and I can’t shake the feeling that the life I’ve known is slipping through my fingers. Maybe Amber’s wrong. Perhaps she’s not. But one thing’s clear: this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.