Chapter 21 #2
“While we're on this subject.” Kai stands up. “Hang on.” He disappears out the swinging door into the kitchen, reemerging before the swing could fully stop, taking a sip from a new can of beer. “All I saw today was that it needs fresh paint, in and out, and upgraded handles and faucets. And if you wanted to upgrade the ovens, I’d recommend that.”
I let out a loud sigh of relief, learning that it's in good shape. “I have paint colors already picked; I can send those to you tonight or tomorrow.”
“When do you think you want to open?” Baylee smiles at me, resting her hands under her chin.
Pursing my lips, the date hits me: “June twenty-first.” Saying it out loud feels so right.
Baylee’s eyes shoot at Kai and then back at me. I can see the sympathy oozing from her gaze. “I think that’s a perfect date.”
“I think it is too.” This year is my mom’s tenth anniversary of her death, and what better way to celebrate her and her life than to open my bakery on that day. It feels right.
Waving goodbye from my car, I drive with only one destination in mind: home.
Turning left, my mind spins from all the things that have to get done in a few short weeks. If I think too hard about it, I’ll spiral, so I try to make mental notes for each department. Painting, baking, signage, and everything else in between.
Pausing at the stop sign, I take off and then slam on my brakes when I come up to the bed-and-breakfast. Everything in me wants to stop and walk my ass in there, bang on every door until I find him and cuss him out.
The look on his brother’s face said more than Kai could have voiced, or that he even intended to. He was hurt. And that makes me mad.
He’s not worth it, August,” I tell myself as I turn onto Main Street. My brain is saying that, while my eyes scan for him or his motorcycle, and neither is seen.
My mind spins on the way home, inching down the driveway. I throw my car into park, hop out, and instead of walking and unlocking the door, I take the back deck and let my feet lead me down the stairs to the beach.
The waves are loud and wild tonight; another storm is on the horizon.
I stand at the seashore, letting the waves wash up and over my feet, before the ocean takes them back to do it all over again.
I can’t count how many times I spent the night on this very beach, the waves lulling me to sleep. It was such a magical place to come here every summer, a place of safety and joy.
The breeze kicks up, sending a shiver through me as I wrap my arms around myself, the thin dress not helping to block the wind.
“You’re here. No matter what, there is no running again, August. No matter what,” I chant to myself over and over again, until lightning strikes in the distance. My cue to go inside.
Once inside and changed into a sleep shirt, I make myself a glass of hot tea, yank the sliding glass door open and lock the screen, before I sit in the middle of the floor, writing on my notepad everything I need to do starting tomorrow.
“Shit.” I almost forgot to send the colors to Kai.
Hurrying and doing that, I decided on Coastal blue and white for the inside, light and inviting.
And for the outside, I want to add some yellow, keeping the same blue and white as the inside.
I smile, sending Kai the text, already imagining what it’s going to look like.
Sipping my tea, I write down all the baked goods I want to sell.
And all the ingredients I will have to have delivered.
“God, did I take on too much?” I tap my pen on my notepad, finally pushing it away from me when my phone chimes with a text message.
Looking down, I expect to see Kai, but it’s Bohdi.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to make it tonight; something came up.
I read it, start typing, automatically delete it, and type again.
“No,” I tell myself, turning my volume down.
The last thing I want right now is an excuse.
He should never have agreed to come. I want to tell him how much of a jerk ass he is, but he’s not my problem.
Last night was a mental slip; this Bohdi isn’t like the man I used to know.
He would have never stood his family up.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I force myself off the floor, needing to get some sleep. Looking at the sofa, I decide against it, not needing his scent to invade my dreams.
“Luna, let's go to bed.” I call out, and hear her little scurry down the hallway to the bedroom, which makes me laugh.
Plugging my phone into the charger, I see the screen light up, showing numerous text messages Bohdi sent since the first one. Rolling my eyes, I place the phone screen down before turning over and cocooning under my quilt.
I lay there tossing and turning, my quilt acting like it’s trying to encase me.
“Ugh!” I fight my way out of the bundled mess, kicking my feet on the bed.
“Why?” I call to the dark room before I pick up my phone.
The light is blinding me from the intense brightness, brightening up the small section of my bed and face.
Squinting, I hover my finger over his name.
Without giving myself time to think, I tap it, and his text appears.
I wanted to be there
I’ll apologize to him
There is so much shit going on that people don’t know about. Again, I’m sorry, August.
I roll my eyes and this time type out what I want to say, not deleting it, but sending it to him.
You don’t owe me an apology, Bohdi. You need to give that to your brother.
Please don’t message me anymore. We have nothing to talk about. The sale is over. We can be cordial when we see each other, but that’s as far as I want things to go.
I try to lie to him and to myself as anger flows through me. Anger at myself for letting him get so close to me. Anger for Kai.
Pushing myself up on my headboard, I know I won’t be able to fall asleep now. I sit there, shaking my head, wanting to message Baylee, but I don’t. She doesn’t need my drama.
I look down at my phone and see his text bubbles appear and disappear, finally not popping up again. “Good,” I sneer down at the phone like he can hear me.
To let my guard down around Bohdi is like handing him my heart and saying, ‘Do whatever you want to do with it.’ And I can’t do that.
Because even though I’ll never voice it, he could ruin me so easily, and I would let him, happily.
Those brief moments of lust and all-consuming want would be worth it, even for one night.
But I know the aftereffect will wound the heart I haphazardly bandaged so long ago.
Letting myself be close to him has woken up something in me that has been dormant, and I can feel those feelings rising.
They never truly went away; I just learned how to mute them, not feel them, and move on.
I think that is a thing about losing someone you love so much; you become natural at cutting off emotions.
You learn how to shove them down. My mom’s death taught me how to shut my heart off.
And I think that is the saddest part that came out of her passing.
I know she wouldn’t want me like this; she’d want me to feel every emotion, even the ones that break you.
But I broke so hard, I almost couldn’t put myself back together from her heartbreak and Bohdi’s, that it frightens me just thinking about it.
Lying in the quiet room, memories of the first time he snuck through my bedroom window replay. Him tripping on the windowsill, falling loudly. My mom coming and checking on what the noise was, and me hurriedly pushing him down so she couldn’t see him from her view of the bedroom door.
That night we didn’t have sex. We explored one another. Learned what the other liked, what made us moan deeper, and which place that was touched took our breaths away.
It was slow and intimate, something I’d never forget. The way we lay kissing until the sun came up, hands not stopping touching the other for even a moment.
That was the night I can truly say I fell in love with Bohdi Westmore. In my childhood summer bedroom, while the waves sang and freshly eighteen.