22. Chapter 22
“You should go with them,” I said to Beck, unraveling the bandage on my arm.
The group finally planned on hiking today. This was Beck’s chance to hang out with his friends without feeling like a betrayal to Poppy. And this was his only chance. With the wedding only two days from now, it would be time for the bridal party to get into gear.
Even if my relationship with Victoria hadn’t come to an end—with the truth blazing down like a comet making inevitable and devastating contact—I still couldn’t have gone out with my arm. I couldn’t risk another fall or, worse, an infection. I needed both arms for crawling on my hands and knees to Wesley, begging him to let me keep my job.
Beck, who’d been brushing his teeth, paused, looking at my reflection in the mirror. “I told you already,” he said around his toothbrush before spitting and rinsing. “I’m staying with you.”
“I know, but these are your friends. I don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me. I’ll be fine here.”
Beck took the bandage from me. I’d made a mess of loops around my arm. His slow, steady fingers made for a cleaner roll of the bandage. “I’m not staying with you because I feel obligated. I’m staying with you because you’re the person I want to spend the day with.”
A flutter rose in my stomach. I believed him. I believed he wanted to spend the day with me. I just didn’t understand why he would choose to be stuck in a resort room with me over a hike in the jungle with his friends.
He squeezed antibiotic cream onto my cut and then reapplied a fresh bandage, all with a touch that suggested if he breathed wrong, he would hurt me. “But,” he continued, “I want to try catching Victoria at breakfast. Talk to her about everything.”
“You really think that’s a good idea?”
“Trust me. This is her. She just needed time to be mad.” Beck kissed the bridge of my nose. “I’m going to fix this.”
With him gone, I plopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, pondering the choices that had led me to this tangled predicament until my phone’s bouncy ringtone assaulted the quiet. My heart tried to find an exit from my chest, as I fumbled for it, sure Wesley was calling to let me know they’d be terminating me. Effective immediately.
I sighed when Hailey’s name showed on the illuminated screen. Good. I could use someone to talk to.
“Hailey,” I answered, a second away from saying, You aren’t going to believe the shit show I’ve been through, when a choking sob cut through the other line. I sat up straight.
“Hailey? What’s wrong?”
“We—we,” she choked on her own words, another sob breaking through.
“Slow down. What’s going on?” I scrambled off the bed, coming to a stand, to do what, I didn’t know. I was a three-hour flight away, but I couldn’t just sit there.
“We broke up!” she finally got through and then crumpled into sobs again.
“You and Florida Man?” I asked dumbly, still trying to make sense of what she was saying—to make sure I’d heard her correctly.
“Yes!” she said, exasperated.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” I started to ask what happened, but then I heard a blinker. “Are you driving?”
“This subdivision is a fucking labyrinth!”
I needed her to be okay. I needed her to be safe. “Pull over! Right now!” More sobbing, but the whooshing car noise quieted.
“You were right all along. I didn’t know Braxton, and moving with him to Florida was the stupidest thing I have ever done. And I know that’s saying a lot.” She dissolved into tears again.
“Breathe. Okay?” And she did, gulping oxygen and then hiccupping it out.
After a long time, she finally seemed to settle.
“What happened?” I asked gently.
“Nothing.” She blew her nose. “That’s the problem. It was nothing major. Just all the things I would have noticed if I’d dated him before deciding to live with him. Like the fact that he steers every conversation back toward him. Or how he never screws the cap back on the toothpaste. It’s the way he says irregardless as though he’s so intelligent, but it’s not a fucking word, Emily.” She huffed out a breath. “I really can’t. He may as well sell whale organs on the black market—like you warned me about—because I can’t stand another minute with him.”
“Hailey, I know you are sad. But breaking up is the right move if you already feel this way about him.”
“I know,” she said shakily. “But I just had all my shit delivered from my apartment and canceled my lease. I don’t even know where I’m going to live now. It’s going to be the biggest clusterfuck to get my life back on track after this. Not to mention, as much as he annoys me, we had some good sex—great sex. Like, toe-curling sex.” And then she started crying again. “And I know that sounds shallow, but I thought it said a lot about our chemistry, you know?”
I chose to ignore the sex part. “Listen to me. We are going to take this one step at a time. You have a place to live—with me—until we get things situated. Let’s start there. Okay?”
Hailey let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
I stayed with her on the phone until she felt well enough to drive. She agreed to head straight to my apartment and stay there until I got back from Costa Rica. I hadn’t told her I planned to come home early anyway—there was no use making her feel worse with the details. And there was no way I could unload my burdens onto her when the ground beneath her feet had turned into sinking sand. Besides, I was only making things awkward. If I left, maybe Beck could find a way to have a good time with his friends—enjoy his sister’s big day. The lack of my presence would uncomplicate things.
I headed out to find Beck and to tell him what had happened and my decision to leave. I had reached the bottom of the elevator bank when the doors opened on Beck and Reagan. She had her hands in his hair, her mouth on his mouth. Kissing Beck, my Beck. His back was toward me. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could see the way Reagan was relaxed into him. Like after the longest day, she’d finally come home.
Their kiss may as well have been an icicle to the chest—cold and piercing. It took my breath away. I covered my mouth with one hand and pressed the button for our floor with the other. Then, I repeatedly mashed the button to close the door.
As the doors obeyed, I had to grip the railing to keep from sinking to the floor. I knew this would happen. I knew it. And I still let him take me to Costa Rica. Insisted he dance with me. Told him to kiss me. Had sex with him during a rainstorm.
I still let myself fall in love with him.
And then I’d damned any chance we had by telling him how Reagan really felt.
I hadn’t seen it for what it was before, but by trying to be Hailey, I’d tripped some sort of cosmic breaker. Self-sabotaged my life with a careless underthrow.
I’d fabricated this lie in my head that I wasn’t engaging in risky behavior by taking the calligraphy job, pretending to be someone else, coming to Costa Rica with Beck. But that’s the trouble with love and ink. They leave a stain.
I always thought the universe celebrated the bold and brave Haileys of the world, but look at her now. She’d gambled everything to move in with some guy—leaped without looking in the name of love. There was nothing more romantic than that. But only if it works out, right? Now, she could only sweep up the pieces of her broken heart—her broken life.
And I’d have to do the same.
When Beck entered the suite, I noticed the quiet, guilty shuffle of his feet. But I didn’t look up. Busying my hands and my attention with packing.
“Emily, I need to tell you—” he seemed to take in my open suitcase and how I had unceremoniously tossed clothes inside as if it normally wouldn’t pop a vessel in my eye to not have everything carefully folded and in its rightful place. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go,” I said, praying he couldn’t see the tears. “Hailey needs me. She and her boyfriend broke up.”
“Oh.” A long pause as he processed. “You have to go now?”
“Yup,” I let the last consonant pop.
The air in the room soured. I hated being so short with him, but I hated being betrayed by him even more.
He seemed to read the shift because his next question came quieter, more cautiously. “Do you need me to come with you?”
“Your sister’s wedding is two days away,” I reminded him. “I’ll be fine.”
“I can at least ride with you to the airport.”
“No, Beck.” I dropped my toiletry bag into the suitcase and looked at him. “This is for the best. We knew my time being Hailey had an expiration date. And honestly, it ended when Madison found my passport yesterday.” I zipped my suitcase and hauled it off the bed. “Now we can go back to normal.”
I made for the door, hoping for a quick getaway. I needed to put space between us so I could dissolve into tears in peace.
“Go back to normal?” He put out a hand to stop me. “Emily, where is this coming from?”
I considered telling him that it came from Reagan’s plump lips being planted on his, but I’d confronted a cheater before. With Chad, I’d literally caught him with his pants down, and he’d tried to tell me, “It’s not what it looks like.”
Besides, was Beck really cheating? Were we even something that could be cheated on? We hadn’t staked a claim. Hadn’t put a label on us. So, I approached it from a different angle.
“Look at the damage we’ve caused! We might lose our jobs.”
“You act as though that would be the end of the world. You hate that fucking job. It’s killing you.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “I know you’re scared. And I get it, I do. But you should give calligraphy a chance. A real chance.”
“I already have!” I backed out of his reach. He wasn’t hearing me, wasn’t understanding our situation at all. “And what a great start I’ve gotten off to. I’ve really instilled a sense of integrity—proven I’m someone my clients can trust.” I laughed bitterly. “Do you think Kat and Sebastian will hire me now?”
“Forget them. You are smart and talented, and you come alive when doing calligraphy. Don’t give that up. Hell, start a new company under a fresh name.”
“I think this is confusing because that seems like a move I would make, but that’s only because I’ve been trying on Hailey’s life, which has gotten me nowhere. Actually, worse than nowhere.” I ran a hand through my hair, knowing I should think, breathe. The conversation was a runaway train at this point, completely getting away from me. “Starting a company in lieu of a stable career isn’t me. And neither is going on vacation with my coworker—fake dating him—so he can get back with his ex.”
Beck flinched. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” He looked at the ground with a pained expression as he seemed to search for the words. “I’m sorry if I haven’t made it abundantly clear.” His eyes met mine, sharper than before, and I watched his Adam’s apple dip past that freckle. “Emily, I’m in love with you.”
The words struck. Pierced. Hammered. Shredded my heart. Because I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe them so badly, but they weren’t true. We’d been pretending, and it was time to wake up and face the real world.
“You didn’t fall in love with me, Beck.” Tears fell before I could even finish. “I was trying to be more like Hailey.” My breath shuddered. “Who you fell in love with isn’t me.”
“No.” He shook his head.
“No?”
“No,” he said stubbornly. “I don’t buy that. You are acting as though you have turned into a completely different person on this trip than who you are at the office—the person I first met. And that’s not true.”
“We shouldn’t have ever done this. We complicated everything,” I said, going with a different tactic. “We fucked it all up,” I choked.
He stepped forward, and I knew if my head hit his chest, it would be over. My resolve would melt. I’d crumble into his arms, and he’d tell me how much he loved me, and I’d admit my feelings for him.
I wanted it so badly. The comfort of his scent. The wholeness I felt in his embrace. He’d kiss the bridge of my nose, and all the pain would evaporate—he’d be Novocain to the throbbing wound in my chest.
The tug of my longing was nearly a physical force, but I gritted my teeth and stood my ground.
Because I knew what the future held. Not today. Maybe not for a few weeks, but eventually, he’d tell me about his decision to get back with Reagan, and he’d shatter my heart beyond repair.
I needed to keep him away from me, and the first thing that came to mind was to strike first.
“Look, this was fun while it lasted.” I sniffed, working to keep my face and voice even. “But I don’t feel like myself when I’m with you.”
I watched it hit him like a physical blow. Watched it knock the air out of him as I parroted Reagan’s words. Guilt squeezed me like a vice.
I stepped past him, and he let me go—let me walk right out of his life.