Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
The sun beats down on me while I’m standing a few feet away from the ocean, watching the waves roll in and vanish. “I’m confused. What am I supposed to do?” I’m able to speak my truth out here, letting the waves take it away. “Bye, Driftwood Bay.”
Turning around, eyes on the sand, I feel someone watching me. Stopping in my tracks when I spot the figure on the stairs watching me. I don’t have to walk closer to know who it is; I’d know him from anywhere, no matter how much time has passed. Bohdi.
Blowing out a breath, I continue my trek back to the cottage. Before stepping up the first stairs, I look up at him, as he’s looking down on me. Our eyes connect, and for just a moment, it’s him and me.
I finally break the tension. “Can I help you?” My words crawl out with anger. Anger from last night and how he acted. How I acted. How I ended my night on the sofa. Thinking about him.
Bohdi holds up papers. “I thought you’d want the paper contract you signed.”
Glaring at him as I take each step up, closing the space between us, I reach out and grab the papers, but he doesn’t let go, only pulls his hand toward him, forcing me up the step and closer to him.
“I’m sorry about last night.” His eyebrows crease together.
“It was the perfect send-off for me, Bohdi. Truly shows me that there is nothing here for me.” I tinge the words with a bit of acid in them, and I watch him inch back a bit, letting go of his hold on the papers. Feeling joy for sparking something inside him.
Waving the papers, “You could have saved yourself a trip. I didn’t need these. I have the document saved.” I step around him up the two stairs and into the cottage, leaving him standing alone on the deck.
Making sure all the lights are off, I grab my bag, tote, and quilt. Saying goodbye to the place that shaped me. Letting the front door close lock behind me. Inching to my car, I leave Bohdi where I left him.
As I’m walking around to my driver door, Bohdi comes off the front porch, hands in his pockets. I don’t say a word as I get into my car, starting it and driving up the driveway, glancing back, seeing him in my rearview mirror, still watching me as I go.
Once turned onto the main road, I feel like I have my oxygen back. Being in his vicinity fucks with my body. It screams at me to go to him; he was my comfort for so long, but then my mind has to remind it that he’s pain. Pain that still lingers in the depths, that likes to have a flare-up randomly.
My eyes scan Main Street on my way to the ferry, letting them linger while I take my time down the road.
Turning my neck and staring out of my passenger window as I pass the empty storefront, I watch it for way too long.
When a horn blares at me. Hurriedly hitting my brakes, pivoting myself forward, my eyes connect to the silver Mercedes I almost hit.
The window rolls down and I’m met with Molly, who’s grimacing at me.
I see her mouth open but can’t hear what she is saying.
Finally moving out of the way, I go over the speed limit to get to the ferry faster now.
Thankfully arriving just in time, I’m able to pull onto the ferry, but this time, I don’t roll down my windows or unbuckle.
“Let’s try,” I coach myself. Sitting there for a few moments before I feel like I can’t expand my lungs fully.
Panic. Unbuckling, I jump out of my car, running to the back of the ferry, tightening my hold on the metal.
I breathe in deeply, exhaling repeatedly.
I know I look like a crazy person, but my heart rate is too fast.
Finally, feeling like I can actually breathe normally, I stay standing, watching Driftwood Bay slowly fade out of sight until I can’t see it anymore.
I don’t move from my spot for the next thirty minutes, watching the dolphins chase the boat and hearing the seagulls making themselves known, hoping someone will throw them food.
The captain announces the arrival at land and asks everyone to get back into their vehicles.
Immediately, I roll my window down, still not able to feel safe with it up.
Luna’s meows welcome me back home. Home. This isn’t home. I look around as I’m squatted, petting Luna’s black and brown fur, already feeling empty.
I let my bags fall where they may, grabbing Luna and going straight to my sofa. We cuddle for a good while until she’s over me, leaving me alone. “Rude,” I call to her retreating body, knowing exactly where she’s going, her spot on my bed.
My eyes pan around the apartment, looking for something to do, but there isn’t anything. Other than sit here and watch TV, which doesn’t sound fun.
Retrieving my laptop from the bar, I lay back on my sofa, propping it up with my knees, checking my mail.
Clicking on a link from Mrs. Williams, I open the listing that’s waiting to go live. Slowly going through each picture of the cottage, stopping at my parents', now looking nothing like the pristine room it was.
I stay on the bedroom picture, thinking about what it would look like with a full sliding glass door and an extended deck, instead of a small balcony.
Moving to the bathroom, the culprit. I could see a claw-foot tub in front of the window, but taking that out and adding French doors would allow the deck to flow all the way to the end of the cottage. Upgrading the old bathroom to something chic and beautiful.
I slam my laptop screen down. “What are you even thinking?” I question myself. Upgrading while Kai is there could bring me more in the sale, I think. But I don’t want this to last longer than it needs to. The quicker I sell, the faster I won’t be tied to Driftwood Bay.
Not letting myself think twice, I jump up, running to my tote that’s still in the middle of the entry and call Kai.
“Hey. What’s up?” he answers on the third ring.
In the background, I hear Bay’s voice. “I want to talk.”
Smiling, I have to force myself to swallow; the words I’m about to speak want to follow the path of my saliva, but I spit them out. “Question. Say I wanted to upgrade the cottage just a bit, how far back would that set me for selling?”
“Depends on what you want. Hang on, putting you on speaker.”
Pacing the living room, “So I was thinking, adding a sliding glass door to the main bedroom and the bathroom, gut the old tub out and add a claw foot, where the window is now. Also, taking out that window and putting in a French door. And maybe extending the deck all the way to the end of the cottage.” I hurriedly spit it all out, so I won’t chicken out.
“Ohh.” Bay’s voice floats through the speaker. Agreeing with my idea.
“Dang, August. That will set you back a month, hopefully. But if you’re sure about it, we can start tomorrow. I’ll have to rearrange my plan, but we can get it done.”
My smile takes over my face, excitement. Chastising myself, quit. This isn’t for you. “Let’s do it then. I know I can get more for the asking price with the upgrades. I’ll message Mrs. Williams and let her know about the change. Email any papers over with the final quote. Please.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get it to you by tomorrow evening. I will postpone construction until I finish writing my proposal and get all signatures.” Hearing him speak so business is crazy from the wild-haired teen who wreaked havoc on Driftwood Bay and the girls who came to visit.
I want to sigh, but I shut up. “Sounds good. Thank you. Kai.”
“You’re welcome. Hang on, Bay wants to talk to you.”
Staring out the balcony window, I look out into the chaos of the city.
“Hey.”
Baylee’s voice yanks me out of my sulking. “I’m here.”
“I’ll be coming to see you in two weeks,” she tells me excitedly. “I miss you already, August.”
“I miss you too, Bay. Hopefully, it’ll fly by.” I lean my head on the sliding glass, hoping it really does.
These last two weeks have moved like molasses. After agreeing to Kai’s quote, construction began, and we’re still in the middle of it.
Mrs. Williams didn’t seem thrilled when I called her that next morning.
Asking me if I was really going to sell.
Her question took me aback. Her friendly voice was no longer.
It was curt and annoyed. Which I found odd.
I know I’m having to push it back, but she is making money off selling my cottage, and with the asking price going up, so will her percentage.
I’ve been looking at houses in the next town over, but nothing has really caught my eye. But there is one I’m going to look at tomorrow with Baylee.
Slamming my car door, I hoof myself and the groceries through my parking garage and to my elevator. Every time I ride this damn thing, I freak out.
Finally getting into the apartment after dropping a bag, I get a text from Baylee
Be there in forty. I’m so excited!
Doing a little dance.
I am too. I got snacks!
Can’t believe it’s been two weeks; it feels longer. Baylee and I talk every day, either by text or by call. And we are always sending the other reels or TikToks. Sometimes even the same ones. Which makes us crack up, because it shows we don’t watch all the ones we send to the other.
She’s become my routine, and it feels good to have someone to talk to and bounce ideas off. The two things that don’t get brought up are Bohdi and the selling of the cottage. It’s a mutual, unsaid agreement.
Needing to kill time, I scroll Instagram and my stupid fingers go and type in Molly’s name. Not even needing to type all of it, she pops up. This is what happens when you stalk someone.