22. Summer
Summer
I t had been twenty-seven hours since Van told me he was falling for me, and I was no closer to knowing what to do.
This whole thing had been built on a lie. How could he think their relationship could be any different with a few declarations? Never had I wanted to throw away all sense and dive into love with him. But they were only words. Hollow. It didn’t matter how much I wanted him. That I felt the same way. What we had was built upon deception. How could I ever trust my choices again?
Work was unbearably slow. Ordinarily, summer is the busiest season, and I would rush around, placating guests, ordering more stock, and calling employees to fill in. But a late summer storm had rolled into the bay, and the rain and low temperatures had driven away our impromptu guests.
Front Street was dead, with only the stray person passing our windows with a coffee in hand, rushing back to their car.
The weather reflected my mood all too well. I worked in a lull, catching up on the most monotonous paperwork I kept putting to the side. Between the inventory costs for the breakfast buffet and figuring out switching mouthwash brands, I checked my phone for the millionth time.
True to his word, Van hadn’t reached out. He was giving me time.
I missed him. I asked for space, asked for time, and only one day later was I cursing myself for both.
A few days before, I would have loved hearing those words from Van.
But seeing Cory had triggered something in me. As much as I hated his words, they still rang in my ears.
Van was so good, so utterly perfect. Telling myself that it was better not to be hurt by him was a punishment of my own making. Months before, I allowed Cory to make me look foolish, and once again, I let him mess with me.
As much as I hated the best revenge is a life well lived phrase—wouldn’t that be exactly what he deserved? And, more importantly, wasn’t that what I deserved? What Van deserved.
Sinking into my chair, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts.
I had a few with whom I felt comfortable talking about my conundrum and even fewer who I knew could give me advice.
I couldn’t reach out to Devin, who seemed to get bored with the men she dated before the check arrived. And as positive and helpful as Autumn could be, her dating experience couldn’t fill a postcard.
Wren picked up on the second ring. Wren shushed a shrill bark of what I could only assume was the small wiry-haired dog she had brought to the brewery.
After pleasantries, Wren paused in the middle of her story about her boyfriend, Adrian, who had been trying—but failing—to teach her how to fish in the river behind their home.
“What is going on with you? You didn’t laugh once at my story of falling into the river.” She lowered her voice. “Something I do more often than I’d like to admit.”
“Van said he loves me.”
“The guy you were dating to get back at Cory?”
“That’s not—he’s not.” I blew out air through my nose. “Things changed between us recently, and I—” I paused, a hundred different questions running through my mind. “After what happened with your ex, how were you able to trust someone again?”
Wren huffed out a large breath. “Adrian and Buck couldn’t be less similar. That helps. For me, it was feeling more like myself with Adrian over a single weekend than I ever did with Buck over our years-long relationship. I liked myself more. And Adrian liked me—loves me. As that person. All the things I felt I had to hide or diminish to be the right kind of girlfriend. I don’t need to do that with Adrian. Plus, the sex is better than anything.”
“Okay, okay. Enough about your orgasms,” I grumbled.
“You’re not me, though, Sum. I can’t tell you how to feel, but I will say that the right man for you is the one who can handle all of you, embracing every part of what makes you so special.”
“But if it doesn’t work out—”
“But if it does—” Wren paused, gathering her words, like she’d always done. “Summer, you build up this armor around yourself, as if being vulnerable would make you less than. But it’s not true. You deserve someone who loves you exactly as you are. Truly.”
Truly.
Truly.
Never had Van seemed the type to give falsehoods. If he said he was falling for me, he was.
Truly , truly , truly .
The words ricocheted around my head.
Not only was he a man of his word but a man of his actions. Never had had he done something contrary to his words.
Truly.
“I got to go. I’ll call you—”
“Talk to you in a few weeks.” She laughed.
I stopped at the store, buying two dozen banana-flavored taffy sticks and a ribbon.
Whoever said men can’t receive bouquets?
I tied them together, admiring my work.
It might have been silly, but I knew Van would appreciate the thought, an apology of sorts. I decided against going home to change.
No, I wanted to meet him in his space. To go back to where this all began and start anew.
Romancing someone was a new feeling for me. Sure, I had been taken out, had flowers and wooing, and all the stuff. But to declare yourself to someone? To apologize for being too stubborn to see the beautiful affection blooming between us until it was almost too late? To win him back? Those were new.
Arriving earlier than him before he could get off work, I hesitated in the driveway, almost talking myself out of going in.
But I could do this. I could be brave. I could take this risk.
The door was, unsurprisingly, unlocked. He really needed to be more careful about that. For the second time this summer, I let myself in the front door.
The hallway looked the same as that day in the middle of June.
From under the kitchen sink, I pulled out a milk glass vase and arranged the banana taffy bouquet in it before placing it on his counter.
Outside, boots stomped on the porch, and keys jingled.
Maybe I was wrong. He must have seen my text and left early.
“Van?” I called out, my spirits lifting as he marched down the hall.
Framed by the open door, Cory stood on the landing, staring at me.