39. amelia
39
AMELIA
M anon leaned on my shoulder with one arm, her other hand clutching a glass containing far too much alcohol. She had spent the previous night in the hospital, was discharged that morning, and spent the day helping us clean up. That evening, she was with us atthe Curved Grape, in high spirits as if nothing had happened. That wasn't the case for everyone present, particularly Gray, who, though he joined us, was mentally at the B and B the entire time. None of us could blame him, which is why Wilder strategically placed him at the bar, not only to keep an eye on him but also to signal that he was there to listen—and to keep his drinks topped up while Manon and I tucked into one of the cozy nooks so we could watch everything.
We shared a massive plate of poutine, a substitute for the dinner we had initially planned. None of us felt like spending time in the kitchen… or anywhere near the remains ofWildwood Hideaway.
Manon would be crashing on our couch until she was able to head back to Toronto. Declan had settled into the greenhouse, and the other employees were fortunate they hadn't been housed on-site from the start.
"How are you feeling physically?" I asked Manon. I knew she was on painkillers—in combination with the booze, she'd soon be numb from head to toe. Her drunken mishaps were always memorable. Over the years, there had been many. While we were in the thick of things, I couldn't find the humor in them. But in retrospect…
"I've been better, but I'm okay. Tell me, how are you handling the fact that that jerk… well, you know." She obviously didn't feel like saying it again.
I exhaled loudly. "I'd love to go to the hospital and give him a piece of my mind. I have no idea what got into him, but… damn, I'm at a loss for words."
Actually, I tried to push it as far from my mind as possible. There were more pressing matters. Gray's mood, for instance, still caused me unease. I had never seen him like this before. The dark cloud looming over his head was usually over mine, and I wasn't entirely sure how to handle him.
Did he want to be alone? Did he need me more than ever? Should I take over some of the tasks he couldn't handle himself? We hadn't talked about it, but I knew we needed to soon.
"You don't have to," Manon replied, her words slightly slurred now compared to five minutes earlier. "He can rot in jail after that fierce cop gets through with him."
It's not like she could decide whether he would go to prison. At the moment, he was in the intensive care unit of a hospital and needed special care. It wasn't even certain whether he would recover from his arson attempt without lasting damage.
I'm not usually a spiteful person, but I hoped he would feel the consequences painfully. And not just for a few days.
Manon released me from her half embrace, scooped up some fries from the plate, and stuffed them into her mouth like she was starving. Then she nodded in Gray's direction. "Have you guys talked yet?"
"Only briefly. I guess Gray also needs to come to terms with what happened."
"But he doesn't hold it against you?"
"No. I think he's more worried. You got hurt. Wilder was suspended. The guests who had to cut their vacation short. And then the operations will completely halt for some time."
"He really poured a lot into that bed-and-breakfast, didn't he?"
"Ten years of his life." Some people switch jobs four times in that amount of time.
"We should support him somehow… so he can bounce back better than before when he reopens." She made a thoughtful noise.
"Why don't you focus on recovering? I don't want to have to pick you up in Toronto next week because I need to nurse you back to health."
Manon waved it off. "We'll just set up a social media page for Wildwood. You upload videos and report on what happened and the progress. And when the grand reopening comes, we'll throw a huge bash, inviting all the guests from the past ten years. Camping in the nearby woods or on the meadowlands by the river… yeah, I think that sounds like a great idea."
It did sound like a fabulous idea. And Manon came up with it on the fly in her tipsy state.
"That's the plan," I assured her, suppressing my grin. "Did you hear what I said about your health? You really scared me."
"The thing with Declan is much scarier." Across the room, she cast a skeptical glance at the young man.
"We'll take care of him. That danger won't happen again." Right now, Gray had other concerns, so he had postponed the conversation with Declan until the right moment came.
And according to Wilder, the doctors at the hospital had already had a very stern talk with him.
"Good. He's really nice. It would be a shame if he shot himself in the foot. He kind of reminds me of my brother."
"Your brother is older than you."
"So what?"
"And a real daredevil."
"He was once eighteen and a nice guy too."
"Mhm," I murmured, reaching for her glass to move it out of her reach and placing my water in front of her. She didn't even notice.
However, I did notice the young man who confidently approached our table. His face didn't look familiar, which made it even more uncomfortable when he slid next to me on the bench and slung his arm around my shoulder with a wide grin as if we were old friends. Or was he imitating Manon?
"You could use a little company, right?" he asked.
Instinctively, I shook his arm off. "Actually, this is more of a private celebration."
"I love private parties."
"And we love being alone," Manon hissed in his direction.
"I wasn't talking to you." His reply made me burst into laughter.
"If I were you, I'd pick up my rear and carry it to the other corner of this room."
He raised his hand, brushing a strand behind my ear. Bewildered, I stared at him. "Sweet. Is that a threat? Or are you telling me to follow you to the restroom?"
" Uh-oh ," Manon muttered next to me. Just in time, I looked up to see Gray storming across the room, heading straight for us.
This was going to get ugly. Wilder seemed to think the same as he leaped over the bar counter a second later.
"I believe the lady just made it clear that you should remove yourself from her personal space," he growled. "Take your hands off her or I might forget my manners."
Usually, Gray was calm. Collected. He wasn't one to look for trouble. But tonight…
Manon scooted further down the bench, so I followed her to put some distance between myself and the guy who had uninvitedly joined us.
Now standing up, the man was barely up to Gray's shoulder. "And who are you to speak for her? Her father or something?" he snapped.
His response made me wince; it was dangerously off the mark.
Gray leaned forward, his hand already at the guy's collar. "No, I'm her husband."
Then, without warning, Gray's fist crashed into his face. I saw blood spray from his nose as he screamed like a stuck pig.
The next moment, Wilder grabbed Gray and pushed him in the opposite direction, so I wasted no time and vaulted over the table. I crashed full force into Gray's chest and kept pushing until I managed to shove him backward through the door outside. His gaze remained fixed on the guy, who was now arguing with Wilder until the door slammed shut.
"What has gotten into you?" I exclaimed.
Suddenly, it became clear to me. In that moment, that guy was the face of my past, and Gray had seized the chance to do now what he had missed out on during George's last argument with me. Maybe a punch in the face a few days ago would have sent a clearer message.
Shaking his head, he reached behind his neck and briefly closed his eyes. "I… I don't even know."
"Come here," I replied, but I moved so I could wrap my arms around him—on tiptoes, just to reach his neck. "We do agree that hitting random men isn't the solution, right?"
"He ignored your no, Amelia."
"And I'm sure Wilder would have politely shown him the door." Not that it changed the fact that I was strangely pleased he had stood up for me, protected me. But I wasn't about to rub his nose in it. "Talk to me, Gray. Whatever happened, it's weighing on you. And I'm aware of it. I just don't know how to help."
Finally, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer in his usual firm manner. A quiet relief washed over me, even though there really was no reason for it. When Gray rested his head on mine and held me completely in his embrace, I realized that in some odd way, everything was all right.
His knee-jerk reaction meant nothing more than he had seen red for a moment when that guy had refused to back off.
I heard the door behind me open. It immediately closed again without a word being said. Whoever had ventured out seemed to have quickly changed their mind.
"Maybe it's not the obvious things that are bothering me."
My eyebrows furrowed, which he couldn't see because of our close embrace.
"Talk to me," I repeated.
"It dawned on me today that what we're rebuilding doesn't stem from negative emotions. It's not about processing an ugly breakup; it has nothing to do with anger or annoyance. It doesn't come from a place of deep sorrow inside me. What this person did out of spite, what he did to cause harm to me, is an opportunity for a fresh start. What is emerging now will reflect a positive, happy part of my life. Despite it being quite nerve-wracking and time-consuming, I could almost be thankful to him because it means that theWildwood Hideawaywill bear not only my signature but also that of the woman I love," he explained. "What bothers me is that everyone will think I'm crazy when they hear about this."
Halfway through his statement, I bit my tongue. This was his perspective. What he was describing, that's what defined this man. Even when he was down, he somehow managed to see the silver lining. I admired him for that, even if it was beyond me how he accomplished it.
A smile spread across my lips. "I love you too, Gray," I began, realizing it was indeed what warmed my heart. "The beautiful part is, you don't have to tell anyone but me. You can feel this way, and it doesn't concern anyone else. Are you really beating yourself up because you're not sinking into depression because that's what everyone expects of you?"
"A little, yes," he replied. I could hear the soft laughter in his voice and even feel it as I snuggled against his chest.
"Shall we agree that you take it easy over the next few days while I handle the important stuff?"
"Would you do that?"
I laughed. "Of course. You take care of me, and I take care of you. That's the deal. And since you just defended my honor, I owe you one."
The sarcasm in my last sentence was quite evident. "Should I apologize to that jerk?"
"No, not necessary," I replied, still grinning. "But you could at least kiss me after you just declared your love for me for the first time in those three clear words."
"Why don't you kiss me?"
I pulled away from him and looked up at him with a scrunched nose. "Well… you're right. For that heroic rescue, a kiss is definitely in order as a thank you."
Shaking his head, he moved toward me, and I continued to grin as I kissed him.