A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

  The cold water from the tap was a shock to her skin, but didn’t do much to clear her mind. Damn it, she wished she’d never told him, that her most painful secret had stayed locked inside of her, which would have been better for all concerned.

  But it was out now. And when she finished scrubbing flakes of paint from her hands, she turned and found Gabe right there again right in her personal space.

  He looked… forbidding. Strong. He was no longer the kid who would be happy enough to follow her rebellious lead… he would be the one taking charge.

  The green of his eyes brightened, intensified, and Ellie felt that connection stretching between them like it had never been broken, that strange and indefinable thing that had once pulled two such polar opposites together. A heart recognizing a heart.

  He was the only one in this world with the power to hurt her. And never mind that she now knew it hadn’t been entirely his fault, she just couldn’t give him that kind of power again.

  “I want to know, Ellie.” He swallowed, and she watched the bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat.

  “Me telling you won’t do anything except hurt me.” Though she wasn’t proud of it, she felt a small surge of satisfaction when he flinched.

  What was it about him that brought out the instincts she thought she’d long left behind?

  She wanted to look at the walls, at the floor—anywhere but at him. But that would make her seem weak, so she risked being lost in that glass green stare once again.

  “You knowing details won’t change what happened. And I’ve told you what I need. So by pressing me, it’s telling me that you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

  “Bull shit.” Gabe swore, face tightening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Unfortunately, I know all too well. Because I was all alone.” The anger was out of her control, a flash so hot it nearly burnt her alive. “Don’t act like you have the same grief that I’ve had to live with. It’s not the same. It’s not even comparable.”

  She very nearly cried then, and only just managed to hold it back.

  “I need to get back to the hardware store before it closes.” Skirting the counter, she forced herself to walk slowly out of the kitchen, as if she couldn’t have cared less about what had just passed between them, though her heart felt like mincemeat. “I ran out of paint.”

  She’d spring for another can, and damn the minute color difference. She’d figure it out if it meant she could get Gabe out of here, out of her space, out of her life.

  “About that.” Damn it all, the man followed her, right into her bedroom as she retrieved her purse.

  Whirling to face him, she found herself pinned, the bed at her back, Gabe between her and the door. When his gaze darkened, her pulse thundered in her veins.

  “Ellie.” His voice was like melted chocolate, warm and silky and damn near irresistible. She did her best to conceal a shudder when he reached for her, her brain screaming at her body to move.

  And when he did nothing more than tuck a paint streaked lock of hair behind her ear, easing back, relief and disappointed crashed together, nearly knocking her right off of her feet.

  “My father wants to buy Estelle’s Blooms.” Releasing her, Gabe stepped back yet again, held still, waiting for her reaction.

  If he’d dumped a bucket of ice water over her head, she couldn’t have been more shocked. Icy fingers danced down her spine, disappointment turning to rage.

  “Never.” Needing space, needing to breathe, Ellie pushed past him, pushed right out of the apartment, her sneakers squeaking on the tile of the steps that led down to the shop.

  He was right behind her. It wasn’t until they were outside the shop, the late afternoon sun casting them both in a golden glow, that she let him catch up.

  “So your dad sent you here to talk to me.” She wanted to weep, she had so many feelings churning around inside. “Well, no matter how much you butter me up, I won’t do it. I’ll sell to anyone before I sell to him.”

  A spark lit in Gabe’s eyes, and he shielded them from the glare as he caught her arm with his free hand, kept her from running away.

  “That’s good. Because I’m not going to ask you to buy it from him.” His frustration was painfully apparent.

  “What do you want from me?” Ellie didn’t give him the satisfaction of pulling back, but every muscle in her body tensed, painfully aware of his warmth, his scent, of him. Gabe had been right on the money when he’d said that Ellie was more prone to fight than flight. But in that moment, she was just tired. There was little fight left, and it scared her.

  “You know what I want from you. I want answers.” His determination had her chafing to do the opposite of what he wanted.

  But bringing up his dad in this way... she didn’t believe he actually wanted to know anything about their baby. Didn’t think he could possibly care about something that had never been a reality for him.

  He’d just been trying to soften her up so that she’d be more receptive to Ed’s offer. Which was preposterous anyway. What the hell would the cantankerous old fool do with a flower shop? It meant nothing to him.

  “Let it go, Gabe. Pretend I never told you.” God, but she wished she hadn’t told him. That moment of weakness was costing her deeply.

  Gabe had always been the level headed one of the two of them, but she’d gotten to him—she could see the anger simmering just below the surface. This time, though, rather than giving her satisfaction, it just made her sad.

  “If you think I can just forget something like that, Ellie, then you never really knew me at all.” His words left her shell shocked, but before she could say anything in response, he’d moved on. “But back to what you just said—that you’d sell to anyone but my father. That’s perfect then. You can sell it to me.”

  A freight train slamming into her body couldn’t have made Ellie feel any less off balance. A shudder passed through her from head to toe.

  But... wouldn’t that solve all of her problems? She wanted to sell. She had a buyer. She could sign the paperwork and go back to Colorado.

  Back home, she corrected herself. Back to her life.

  “What makes you think I’d sell to you anymore than I would to your father? You have some nerve.” The words were out of her mouth before she could even think them through, making the decision for her. “What would you do with it, anyway? What would he?”

  Not that she cared, she reminded herself. Hell, maybe she should just burn it to the ground.

  A muscle in his jaw worked, making the planes of his face stand out in sharp relief. “I don’t know what the hell the old man would do with it. Me, I’ll flip it.”

  Ellie huffed out a breath of exasperation. “If you’re just going to sell it, why do you want it in the first place?”

  Gabe eyed her with exasperation, but after a long sigh, during which he scrubbed his hands over his face, he looked at her with such compassion shining in those fathomless eyes that seeing it gave her another wound, one she didn’t exactly know the cause of and certainly didn’t know how to heal.

  “I want to help you. I owe it to you.” She didn’t want to hear the empathy in his voice. “You don’t have any other options, El. Not in this market. Not unless you’re willing to sell to my dad.”

  Ellie’s stomach rolled. It was tempting. She couldn’t hide that from herself. But the rock solid stubbornness that had been forged the day she’d been abandoned at Estelle’s reasserted itself within seconds, and with came the desire for sheer mutiny.

  “You can have the money within a week. Go back to the life you really want.” The faintest of sneers curled his upper lip, and a white-hot haze settled in front of Ellie’s vision.

  He wanted to buy the shop to appease his own conscience, which was troubling him, knowing he’d been so wrong about her all these years. If she granted him what he wanted he’d be able to move forward and forget the pain of what they had made together and lost.

  She ne
ver would. And she knew that it wasn’t fair—that he’d had the choice taken away from him. But what had happened to her wasn’t fair, either.

  “No.” Ellie knew that she might regret it later, but in that moment she was absolutely certain. “I won’t. Not ever.”

  “Ellie!” Gabe exploded with irritation, gesturing with his arms. “You won’t sell this place. Florence isn’t a rich town. It isn’t a necessary service. And you can’t afford to make this place saleable. Take my offer. Walk away.”

  Wouldn’t that just make his life perfect? His conscience appeased and her far away.

  Tucking a strand of hair encrusted with dried blue paint behind her ear, Ellie stood tall, stiff. Rigid, just like Estelle had been.

  If the realization shocked her, well, that was best tucked away to examine later.

  “I’m going to list the shop for sale tomorrow.” A clammy sweat dampened her palms, her forehead, despite the lingering heat of the day. “I’m going to spend the next few days getting it into the best shape that I can. And then I’m going to leave. It will be best for everyone.”

  The one hand on his hips, the way he rubbed the other over his nose... the tightening of his lips and the small shake of his head.

  He was disappointed in her. Though she told herself it was just a tantrum from the man who had always been the town’s golden boy, deep down... she knew.

  And it made her disappointed in herself. Her skin suddenly feeling like it was too tight to contain her body, Ellie took one last look at Gabe before turning to walk away.

  Lord, but he was handsome. She knew every bit of him by heart, too.

  It wasn’t enough.

  “Ellie.”

  She hesitated, but didn’t turn around.

  “Just because my grief can’t be the same as yours, doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  The words shamed her because she was beginning to understand that maybe, just maybe, they were true.

  And yet she walked away.

  Chapter Six

  The next day Ellie waited for Gabe to show up at the shop, to try to persuade her to see things his way

  He did not.

  She waited another day. And another one. She bought another can of paint, and finished coloring the walls of the small apartment with glossy baby blue.

  The color just made her think of the son that had never gotten a chance to live. It made living in the apartment nearly unbearable.

  And yet she stayed, each day finding yet another excuse to put off listing the shop.

  Five days after she’d walked away from Gabe, feeling that weighted stare burning into her back, she gave in and called Billy Huggins.

  “I’d like you to draw up a bill of sale.” A huff of surprise came from the other end of the line, and Ellie squeezed her eyes shut, praying that the realtor would hurry up before she lost her nerve.

  Not like she had any other choice. Gabe had been right about that.

  “But you haven’t even listed the property.” In Billy’s voice Ellie heard all of the small town curiosity that made her skin crawl. “How did you find a buyer?”

  “Let’s just say that the opportunity fell into my lap.” He began to drone on, about commissions and property taxes and assessing value. Ellie couldn’t have cared less.

  She was going to let Gabe win, let him have this small victory so that she could get on with her life and forget that this entire town even existed. Which was what she wanted.

  If the thought didn’t sit as solidly as it always had, it was just because of the stress of the last week.

  Abruptly, she cut Billy off. “Look, I don’t care about any of this. I just want you to give the bill to Dominic Gabriel, get his money, and give it to me.” Which she would promptly give away. She’d never be able to spend it.

  “The sheriff is your buyer?” When Billy spoke, Ellie heard curiosity and a bit of caginess that told her the gossip mongers of Florence had been busy rehashing the doomed love of that wild Kendrick girl and the sheriff’s son so many years ago.

  “Yes.” Thoroughly exasperated and not seeing any point in carrying the conversation on any longer, Ellie hung up the phone, wincing as she realized how abrupt she’d been.

  “Who cares?” Trying to grasp hold of some tendril of elation—she was free now—Ellie padded away from the hateful blue walls and to the fridge, where she treated herself to one of the six pack of beer that she’d purchased at the liquor store up the street, the one where she’d once bartered with the barely legal cashier on the night shift-- a lackluster groping session in the back alley would net her a six pack of this very beer.

  Until she’d met Gabe. She’d loved him too much to ever think of cheating on him. Loved him so much that she’d dreamt about the day they would leave Florence together.

  In the end, she’d left by herself. Just like she would be doing again, now. As soon as she had the money from the sale.

  The beer was bitter on her tongue, her adult palate insulted by what had been perfectly acceptable as a teenager. Grimacing, she emptied the can down the sink, then began to pace the length of the small apartment, feeling at loose ends.

  Days had passed since Gabe had stood here, offering to be her saviour. She might have said he had a hero complex...

  But when he’d reminded her that the intensity of her grief didn’t diminish his own... Ellie’s eyes had opened. He’d given her plenty of time to ruminate, to chew on how wrong she’d been.

  She owed it to him, to share the full story of what had happened between them, why they’d been torn apart in such a painful, life altering way. She could grant that he’d been absolutely right about that.

  But spitting those words out?

  She couldn’t actually leave until she had, or it would worry at her forever, a wound that might heal over but would never be free of the source of infection.

  And yet... she just didn’t think she could do it. Didn’t know how she could talk about that beautiful baby boy to the man who had helped her create him, without losing herself in the process.

  “Ugh.” Tangling her hands in her hair, Ellie tugged just hard enough to clear her mind. “Nine prisons we have. Nine, and not a single psychiatric hospital.”

  Which was probably a good thing. Because she was feeling very much like she should be committed.

  As she paced, Ellie caught sight of the door in the ceiling, one she’d forgotten about, out of her line of sight as it was. If she remembered correctly, there was a small attic over the apartment, the top of the building. Estelle had never permitted her to go up there, and in her defiance, Ellie had convinced herself that she didn’t want to.

  Well, this was her last chance. In a few days this would be Gabe’s attic. It was probably empty of everything but dust, and even if there were things that might be important to normal families, Ellie knew that she wouldn’t want them.

  But she desperately needed something, anything, to stop her mind from circling around and around, an endless cycle of guilt and fear and confusion.

  “How the hell do you even open this thing?” Standing directly underneath it, Ellie saw no handles, no latches. Brow creased, she dragged a rickety old kitchen chair over, its legs squeaking on the worn linoleum, then climbed up.

  To her surprise, the hatch lifted with a light press of her fingers, opening up and inside.

  It was too easy. Nothing in her life with Estelle had ever been that easy, and Ellie felt trepidation roll slowly down her spine.

  Looking up, she saw nothing but unfinished wood, support beams and the angled slant of the roof. Dust danced thickly in the dim light that filtered in through what Ellie knew from the outside of the building was a small, round window divided into equal sections with crossbars.

  It was twilight, and Ellie had no idea if there was any kind of electric light up there. If she wanted to explore—and she did, since she had nothing else to distract her from her thoughts of Gabe—she’d better be quick.

  Stretching up to her tiptoes wh
ile balancing on the chair, Ellie was able to slide just her fingertips around the edge of the frame, but didn’t find a rope, or a ladder, or any other way to get up into the attic. Growling with frustration when she got a stitch in her side, she glared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling.

  If she wanted up, she was going to have to hoist herself up by her hands. And that meant that there was probably nothing up there, because she sure couldn’t picture Estelle swinging like a monkey to go hang out in the dust.

  “Or she had a ladder, dummy.” Almost certainly so. But it was long gone now, so Ellie sucked in a deep breath, clasped the ledge above her head and jumped. She swayed for a moment, legs scissoring as she tried to get enough momentum to hoist herself upwards. She had strong arms from years of hauling heavy buckets around, but her biceps and shoulders screamed as they supported her full, if slight, weight.

  Just when she thought she’d have to let go, she managed to get her forearm in. Then the other, then her shoulders. Panting, she wormed her way into the small space and laid full length for a moment, panting with exertion.

  Nothing worth having comes easy. Estelle’s voice seemed to echo all around her, and it did nothing to improve Ellie’s mood.

  “Nothing I’ve had ever has come easy,” she muttered as she rolled to her back, then sat up and surveyed the interior of the attic.

  The space was small, so much so that she would have to stoop if she wanted to stand, and she was only five four. The walls were lined with boxes, with surprised Ellie until she started cracking them open and found a wealth of old florist supplies that Estelle had been hoarding probably for the simple reason that she couldn’t abide throwing things away.

  Except for her granddaughter.

  Don’t go there.

  Boxes full of small holiday ornaments on sticks... bits and pieces of oasis foam, shedding green dust... water picks so old that the plastic had yellowed. Ellie’s fingers itched to organize, to bury herself in the work of clearing out Estelle’s mess.

  But at the end of the day, she just couldn’t bring herself to care about it. She’d leave it, let Gabe deal with it.