Chapter 32
We stayed one more night in the cabin, playing board games—the girls consistently beating us—eating way too much food and having more fun than I had in years.
As we crawled into bed Saturday night, slightly tipsy from the champagne Fallon had bought, Rosie stretched her beautiful body over mine, not a stitch of clothing on her, and curled up on my chest, falling asleep within minutes.
For a girl who had never spent the night with a guy before, never let them cuddle her as they fell asleep, she’d acclimatised quickly.
I couldn’t lose the smug feeling swelling in my chest as I held her close. Breathing in her unique scent like an addict.
The skin on my arm was raw from how often I’d pinched myself throughout the last few days.
The explosive chemistry between us had erupted, and it felt like I was waiting for the aftershocks.
Rumbles that threatened to crack the foundation between us, tearing down what we’d painstakingly started to build.
I fell asleep with her body next to mine, lips parted as she breathed, not a single worry creasing her brow, and that niggle of panic bubbled in my veins.
Things that were often too good to be true, usually were.
Years of hoping and praying for my mother to get better, only to watch on helplessly as cancer ravaged her body, had taught me that.
You rarely got the things you wished for.
Sunday afternoon, we all packed up and I drove Rosie home, fighting to keep the smile on my face. The other shoe was bound to drop and my stomach was tumbling like a washing machine at the thought. The kiss she placed on my lips before entering her building lingered for my entire drive to Cora’s.
Maybe this could work out? Maybe for once, I’d catch a fucking break.
I could have gone straight home to shower and clean up after the drive, but I was itching to get back to work.
It had been years since I’d taken a weekend break and I wanted to see it with my own two eyes.
Steve and Tim had been holding down the fort.
I knew Steve would have called if anything had gone wrong.
And despite how often I’d checked my messages, nothing had come through.
When I pulled up outside Cora’s, dread curled in my veins and my stomach twisted into an old familiar knot. I shouldn’t feel like this going to work.
I used to love this place. It used to be the reason I got up in the morning; it was everything to me.
Seeing it slowly crumble, bit by bit, felt like I was watching her die all over again.
Cancer is rarely quick. It doesn’t come in one sweeping moment of terror, snatching the thing you love from your grasp overnight.
Mum’s was slow. Stealing pieces of her every week, but leaving her alive long enough to feel every ache and pain.
My hand flexed on the wheel as I took some deep breaths before I got out.
I slammed the car door shut with more force than I meant.
Three days passed and I was drowning in emails.
Each one marked urgent. From the bank, to suppliers, to the few standing delivery orders we’d received, I’d been rushed off my feet.
Too busy to have more than a few minutes to talk to my brother on the phone and listen to his whining about all the free time he was swimming in.
I scrolled through each one of the red tinted emails, all the tension I’d worked out over the weekend coming back. Muscles coiling with every word I read.
Overdue.
Denied.
Insufficient funds. Yeah, no shit.
I couldn’t bring myself to regret taking the time off, not when it had given me the time with Rosie.
Not when it had been the catalyst to our relationship shifting.
She had finally broken down that wall, the one stopping her from giving me that last puzzle piece.
A part of me had half been expecting for her to do a one eighty now that we were back home.
Each time she called me, or a message flashed up on my screen, I held my breath, waiting to see if this was the one that told me she’d changed her mind. That it was all a big mistake.
Picking up the phone with a lump in my throat, she surprised me every time. She would send me pictures of quotes from the book she was reading—usually of the smutty variety—or of Roxy sprawled out on her bed looking just as adorable as the woman sending me them.
God, I was in love with her. The undeniable certainty came crashing into my consciousness like a tank through a brick wall.
I loved her. Was in love with her. And the strangest feeling of all was that I didn’t need her to love me back.
I wanted it, fuck I craved hearing those words fall from her lips.
But I didn’t need it. If the only thing she gave me was her time, her affection, and her mind in all its random glory, I’d be the happiest man alive.
It was eight o’clock in the evening and I was itching to get home to call Rosie, but I had at least five more invoices I needed to file before I could leave.
Fuck, I missed her. The texts and calls here and there weren’t enough.
My skin itched to grab my phone and tell her I was coming over. Screw work.
Tim had gone home an hour ago and Steve was locking up for the night—I could pack up for the night. Staring at the bright laptop screen perched on my desk, the numbers blurred together. Maybe I just needed to go home and get some sleep.
I was about to slam my computer shut when a tentative knock sounded on my office door.
‘Boss?’ Steve called from the other side of the door.
So much for that. Removing all hints of frustration from my tone, I called, ‘Come in.’
He popped his head around the door, leaving the other half of him hovering in the hallway. ‘You have a minute?’
Pushing my laptop to the side, I waved a hand at him. ‘Of course.’
The rest of him entered, faded blue jeans stained with mud, grey hair coming out of the ponytail dangling down his back.
He shut the door behind him and took a seat on the chair opposite my desk. Weathered hands wrung together in a move of uncharacteristic self-consciousness. His eyes were darting around the room, looking everywhere but at me.
After what felt like an age, he finally piped up. ‘This is ah, a little awkward.’ The older man scratched the back of his head.
‘What is it, Steve?’ I pressed, getting more anxious the longer he sat there trying to figure out what he wanted to say.
‘The thing is boss, my uh, oh heavens, I’m no good at this type of thing.’ The lines on his forehead creased deeper.
Fuck. Whatever had him tongue tied wasn’t going to be good.
‘Whatever it is, I'm sure we can get it sorted,' I spoke with a forced smile, more to try and comfort myself than him.
I could handle whatever it was he wanted, unless he was asking for a pay rise and then I might hurl.
Steve had been with me since the beginning.
The thought of losing him when everything around me was barely hanging on by a thread made my heart gallop off in an unsteady rhythm.
Steve sighed and continued, ‘Margery’s much better at things like this,’ he said softly, mentioning his wife of nearly forty years.
‘Steve—’
‘The last month's payments haven't come through,’ he blurted out. ‘I know things aren’t going well at the minute and usually, I wouldn’t think much of it, but I’ve got my grandchildren—’
‘What do you mean it hasn’t come through?’ All the blood in my body froze. ‘Steve, are you telling me I’ve not paid you all month?’
He gave a rough nod. Grey eyes telling me just how much he hated having this conversation. ‘Ay, that’s what I’m saying.’
Jesus Christ.
‘Steve, I’m so sorry.’ I ran a hand down my face, scratching my jaw.
‘Hey, it’s alright. Knew it wasn’t on purpose, boss.’
Didn’t make it any better that I’d forgotten to fucking pay him. With everything I’d been trying to juggle, it must have slipped through the cracks. Not a good enough excuse.
I pulled my computer back in front of me and pulled up my business bank account. Knowing that I’d be greeted with a message about my overdraft limit. I clicked over to my personal account, which wasn’t much better, and pulled up his payment details.
‘I’ll send this months and last months over to you tonight. Okay?’
He looked like he wanted to argue, but his head dipped in a grateful nod.
‘Boss,’ Steve started, hesitantly. ‘Is everything okay? You don’t look so good.’
That was the understatement of the year. I’d passed my reflection in the mirror this morning as I rushed out the house to make several more unsuccessful calls to the bank. The dark circles under my eyes looked like I’d gone a few rounds in the ring.
My throat felt drier than sandpaper. ‘Everything’s okay.’ The truth I’d only voiced to Rosie burned like acid in my gut. I wasn’t ready to spill it out and let it be my reality. Not yet. Selfishly, I wanted to live in my delusion a little longer.
From the way Steve’s lips thinned, I knew my words hadn’t been convincing. Like the nice guy he was, he didn’t call me on it. I double checked the payment details and the correct amount and sent it through.
‘You should get it in the next couple of days. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, Steve. It won’t happen again.’
He stood up, hands aloft, waving away my apology. ‘It’s no bother. Everything’s locked up for the night, so I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He offered me a firm nod, closing the door behind him.
The negatives in my account taunted me. My stomach roiled as I slammed the screen shut.
I needed to see her. I needed to be near her.
As I double-checked everything had been locked up for the night and headed to my truck in the car park, I pulled out my phone, ready to call her, even just to hear her voice for a few minutes.
I stopped in my tracks when I saw a missed call from Dad ten minutes ago. It must have come through when I was talking to Steve. Pushing my need for Rosie to the side, I got in my truck and called him. It rang out.
Something pricked in the back of my head. I tried his number again and again. Each time, it rang out. I typed out a message and sent it. Drawing my lower lip into my mouth, I waited for those dots to appear at the bottom of the screen.
They never did.
He was probably not anywhere near his phone. Or he was listening to music. He often played the radio loud enough for the neighbours to complain. That’s what it must be.
Making up my mind to stop by his house on the way home, I drove across town.
With each mile, an uneasiness settled in my bones.
Oliver and I had instilled in Dad to keep his phone beside him, in case he ever needed either of us.
Once he’d got used to the technology, he’d got great at texting and calling.
And he always answered when I called. Always.
I considered calling Oliver to see if he’d heard from him, but I didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily when it was probably nothing.
Pulling into his driveway, I turned off the ignition and hopped out. The house was dark. No orange glow spilled through the closed curtains like they usually did at this time of night. His car was still parked in the driveway.
My heart rate sped up.
Without knocking, I slid my spare key into the lock, calling out as I opened it up. ‘Dad? You home?’
The hallway was coated in shadows. A preternatural stillness cloaked the house; goosebumps rose on my skin.
My hands reached out to the light switch on the side of the wall. I winced at the sudden brightness. ‘You here?’
I padded down the hallway to the living room where he usually spent his evenings. Peering around the door, I flicked another light on. Lungs barely able to draw in a breath. A mass of newspapers and day-old mugs of tea littered the coffee table.
The second my eyes connected with the slumped figure in the armchair by the window, the keys I held in my hand crashed to the hardwood floor.
A loud yell tore from my throat as I rushed towards my father, shaking his lifeless frame.