Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jess
By the time he called to let me know he’d returned from the city, I hadn’t seen my fiancé in almost a week.
I probably should have been excited to see him, or feeling…
well, anything. But the only thing I could focus on as I made the drive across town was the feeling of dread that was pressing down on my shoulders, only getting heavier the closer I got to his place.
We’d barely spoken while he’d been in the city for meetings, and when we had, it had mostly been about the development project. Of course, he’d wanted to know all about the hike and what objections we were going to need to overcome to push things through.
He’d checked in a few times with the progress on our wedding plans. But not once had he asked about me.
He never did.
Why had it taken me so long to notice that?
I pulled up in front of the short-term rental he’d been living in. I’d offered him to move in with me more times than I could count, but he always declined, saying he liked the space and that it made more sense to keep things separate until everything was finalized.
I never knew whether he meant the development or the wedding.
As I knocked on the door and stepped inside, I was pretty sure I finally understood that they were one and the same.
The realization should have filled me with sadness, but instead, it was more of an understanding. A quiet acceptance that had taken me way too long to come to.
The walls of his rental were bare except for a few generic prints. Impersonal and cold. A lot like him, I was coming to realize.
“Trevor, we need to—”
“I’ve been thinking of that access point.” He cut me off before I’d even closed the door behind me. “I don’t like the way that they—”
“That’s not what I want to talk about.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. “I know this is one of the biggest hang-ups,” he continued. “And I think—”
“Trevor,” I said again. Firmer this time. “I didn’t come here to talk about the development.”
He stopped, finally looking at me. “Okay…”
The questioning look he gave me was almost laughable as I realized that to him, there was no other reason his fiancée would possibly drive over to his place. That’s how little of an actual relationship we had. How had I let it go so far?
It made me sad that I’d allowed myself to say yes to someone who so obviously wasn’t my person.
I took a breath. I couldn’t put this off any longer. “We need to talk about us.”
His expression shifted. Not to concern, but something more guarded. As if he’d seen this coming and was ready for it. “Is this about me volunteering you for the committee without asking? Because I still think—”
“No. It’s not about that,” I said. “It’s about the fact that we’ve hardly spent any time together in the last few months. We don’t talk about anything besides business.”
“We talk about the wedding,” he said smugly.
“Somehow that feels like business, too.” I sighed. “We really don’t spend much time together at all,” I continued. “And I can’t even remember the last time we were intimate.”
We’d never been a particularly affectionate couple, hardly even kissing.
Especially in public because Trevor didn’t believe in showcasing affection.
It wasn’t like sex was the most important part of a relationship, but it was important.
Very important. And we didn’t feel connected in that way at all.
It was just one more thing on what was growing to be a very long checklist of things that weren’t adding up. “What’s more,” I said, before he could interrupt, “I don’t even think you’ve noticed. Or if you have, you don’t care.”
Trevor sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as if this was nothing more than an inconvenience he hadn’t planned for. “Do we really need to talk about this right now?”
It was in that moment that I realized something important.
Not only did we need to talk about it right now, I was no longer afraid of the conversation. It had been a long time coming. Too long.
“Yes,” I said with certainty. “In fact, we need to talk about ending this.”
That got his attention. His head snapped up. “Ending what?”
I wiggled the diamond off my finger and held it out to him. “This,” I said simply. “It just doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.”
Not ever.
I’m not sure what I expected him to say, but some part of me hoped he might fight for me. For us. Even a little bit.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit hasty here?”
For half a second, the old instinct kicked in. The part of me that didn’t want to make a fuss, that wanted to keep things moving smoothly. The part that told me it would be simpler to nod, apologize and keep going the way we had been.
But I caught myself and shook my head.
“We’re adults, Jess. This is what relationships look like.
They aren’t all big and dramatic.” Trevor frowned.
“You’re probably going to talk about a spark,” he used air quotes, “or some other big feelings, right? Women always seem to think that relationships should be like something they see in the movies. And that’s ridiculous. ”
That didn’t even make sense. He’d been so intense at the beginning. Almost over the top. I’d mistaken that attention for depth. I’d been wrong and that was on me.
But I wasn’t going to let him gaslight me. “Is it?” I shook my head, not fully believing what I was hearing.
“It is.” He sat up. “That’s fiction, Jess. This is real life. I’m quite fond of you, and that’s something.”
“You’re fond of me?” I could have laughed, if it wasn’t my life we were talking about.
“Yes.”
I stared at him, trying but failing to reconcile the man in front of me with the man I somehow had been planning a future with. How had I been so blind?
“That’s not enough for me, Trevor.”
He blew out a breath and stood, realizing for the first time that I was serious. “I know you don’t want to hear this.” He walked toward me. “But it’s the reality, Jess. Love isn’t a feeling,” he said evenly. “It’s a partnership. A shared vision. Stability. A future. What’s wrong with that?”
Nothing. But also…everything.
“I need more, Trevor.” I handed him my ring, but he refused to take it. “I need to feel chosen.”
“You are chosen, Jess,” he said quickly. “I’m here. I chose you.”
“As a business partner.”
“No,” he said. “As a partner.”
He didn’t sound angry. Or upset at all. Instead, he looked like a man negotiating terms when he said, “Look, this doesn’t have to end. We can still move forward together.”
“What?”
There was no way I was hearing this. No way he was saying what I thought he was saying.
“At least until this project is finalized,” Trevor continued. “I wasn’t trying to mislead you, Jess, and I am sorry if I did in any way. I truly thought we were on the same page.”
I shook my head.
“I guess I can understand if you want the storybook fantasy of a relationship.”
I gritted my teeth when he used air quotes again.
“But I hope you’re reasonable enough to understand what’s at stake if you call things off right now. This town trusts you and your vision for this project. If we break up now, we’ll lose credibility.”
“I’m just supposed to—”
“Look, I didn’t want to tell you this, but it’s bigger than that, Jess.”
Something in the way his voice changed caught me. I froze and waited.
“Some of our biggest investors bought into the whole partnership angle. They liked the whole small-town girl falls in love with a big-city guy and wants to do right for her hometown angle.”
I blinked slowly. “You sold our relationship as an investment strategy?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need to. “So what are you saying exactly, Trevor?”
“If the wedding’s off, the whole thing is off,” he said plainly. “The investors will pull out. You’ll lose your investment and we’ll—”
I stopped listening. My mind locked on four simple words.
You’ll lose your investment.
No. I wouldn’t just lose my investment. I’d lose everything. And it wasn’t just about me. My parents’ retirement savings. Gone.
The room spun. I was going to be sick. I needed to get out of there.
I backed away, my hand fumbling for the door handle as my chest tightened. The room felt too small. The air too thick.
“Jess—”
“I can’t,” I said, the words coming out thin and shaky. “I can’t be here right now.”
I stepped outside and let the door shut behind me, the click of it sounding final in a way I wasn’t ready to face. I didn’t look back. I didn’t go to my car. I just started to walk.
The pavement blurred beneath my feet until it gave way to gravel, the familiar crunching ground under me as the trees closed in around me, and the trailhead appeared in front of me.
The air was cool, sharp with pine. I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and breathed in, slow and deep, like I was reminding my body how to exist.
What if he was right?
What if love really was a fantasy that people like me couldn’t afford?
If I walked away now, I’d lose everything. Worse, my parents would lose everything. All because I’d believed in the wrong man.
There was no longer a choice to make.
And still, an uninvited yet impossible to ignore thought surfaced.
What if I’d already felt that spark with someone else, but I’d convinced myself it wasn’t real?
I stared down the trail, my chest tight, my thoughts a tangled mess I couldn’t seem to sort through.
I didn’t know where I was going. I only knew I couldn’t go back.
So I kept walking.
Preston
“Rule number one.” I held up a finger. “Fire isn’t a game. You need to be very careful with it, especially out in the woods. Understand?”
I looked around the group of teens, who were all watching me with rapt attention. They all nodded affirmatively before I continued.
“Today, the fire danger is rated at low, so it’s safe to do this. I don’t think I need to tell any of you how important it is to keep track of the fire risk out here in the mountains. One little spark could mean total devastation to our forest, and potentially our town.”