by Ali Parker
I thought things were different. I was ready to give him my heart again. I told myself I was glad he showed his true colors before I fell too hard. I got out in the nick of time.
He sat down on the couch beside me. I glanced over to find him looking at me. I quickly looked away. The tension in the room was suffocating.
“Can I please explain?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Your explanation isn’t going to change anything,” I told him. “But it isn’t like I can turn on the TV or call for help or do much of anything. I can’t even go to another room. Yak away. It isn’t going to change anything but maybe you’ll lull me to sleep.”
He smiled, an amused look on his face. “Okay.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m not laughing.”
“You smirked.”
“I’m sorry. Please, hear me out.”
“I said speak. Just get it out. It isn’t going to change anything.”
He actually looked a little sad. He took a deep breath. “Angela suggested the story should have something special to it. She said it would draw in the readers and make the usual boring story of a grand opening more interesting.”
I rolled my eyes. “No one cares about us. You lied.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“I can’t believe you told her about us,” I said, the hurt I felt bubbling to the surface.
He looked at the crackling fire. “I didn’t have to tell her.”
I gave him another eyeroll. “She was fishing for information. I would think you know how to shut down a rumor.”
“She, uh, the night of the party, she came to my office.”
The world slowed down. “Your office?” I squeaked.
He gave a small nod. I wanted to die of embarrassment, but I was still too pissed. “She hinted at the idea she would write it whether she had my permission or not. I didn’t want the piece to sound sleazy. I thought I could control the narrative. I didn’t want her to write it in a salacious way. I wanted it to be real and authentic and what I truly felt.”
“You wanted to promote yourself,” I shot back.
“I wanted to promote the hotel and protect our relationship.”
I tucked the blanket tighter around me. “That was you protecting our relationship? You blabbed about intimate details? You have a very strange way of protecting me. Just like your decision to leave after graduation. That was you doing the best thing for us, right?”
“Yes, that was my goal. She pitched the story twist, and I was reluctant, but when I found out she knew, I changed my mind. I didn’t do it solely for the free promotion.”
“You shouldn’t have done it at all. You should have asked me how I felt about it. You always make these big decisions that affect both of us without consulting me.”
He slowly shook his head. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
“No, you were trying to look for the easiest path for you. You were doing what you felt was best for you.”
“Harper, I have never intentionally hurt you,” he argued. “I would never do that.”
I ignored his argument. I was fully riled now. I threw off the blanket and got up from the couch. I needed to pace. I was pissed and frustrated. I didn’t want to have this conversation. I wasn’t ready to talk to him. I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to be alone and I couldn’t even have that. I moved to stand in front of the fire, my back to him.
“You created a fantasy and fed it to her. She wrote a fairytale. The story isn’t true. We aren’t long lost lovers. We did not find our way back to each other. This was never that. I needed a job and you offered one I couldn’t refuse. I never would have worked for you if I had a choice. Unfortunately, I’m not you. My family isn’t like yours. I can’t afford to go a month or two without a paycheck. I took the job because I was desperate.”
I slowly turned to face him, watching his expression as he digested the information. I wanted to see the guilt. I wanted to feel some kind of satisfaction at telling him he didn’t mean shit to me. He was a means to an end just like I was to him.
“The fairytale I spun wasn’t malicious.”
“It didn’t have to be malicious to be wrong. You know what, Chase? I don’t care. You got what you wanted. I got a paycheck and it’s over. I don’t owe you a damn thing and you don’t owe me shit. It was my fault for getting involved with you again. I knew you couldn’t be trusted but I did it anyway. This one is on me. I don’t have to put up with your shit anymore. There is nothing between us. Zero. That all died ten years ago. That means I don’t have to stick around and put up with it. I left you. Period. This thing here? This doesn’t mean anything.”
I stared at him in the soft glow of the fire. I was purposely trying to pick a fight with him. I wanted him to get mad at me. I wanted him to admit he used me. He wasn’t doing that. He didn’t look mad. He looked hurt. I could see emotion in his eyes. It wasn’t what I expected.
“I do care,” he said in a soft voice.
It was three simple words, and they shouldn’t have meant anything, but they did. I waited, hands on my hips. I wanted to hear the rest. I expected more excuses. Instead, he simply sat on the couch looking up at me in a way that made me think he wanted to say more. That worried me.
“What else did you do?” I asked him, my stomach feeling very unwell all of a sudden. “Is there more?”
“No.”
“I can tell you are holding back. You can tell me now or I will find out later. If I have to read about my sex life in another magazine or in the newspaper, I’m not going to be happy.”
“You won’t. At least, not from me.”
“Are you saying it’s out there?” I gasped. “Just how many people know about that night?”
“I don’t know. Just her, I imagine. I know Parker and Jake have an idea, and Cori suspects, but you have to believe me. I have never talked about it with anyone.”
“You ask me to believe you, like that is even possible,” I spat. “How many times am I supposed to believe your bullshit? Why didn’t you tell me about the story?”
“Because it wasn’t the right time.”
I scoffed. “Because you were hoping I would be out of the state before your lie came out.”
“That’s not true.”
His answers were pissing me off. He wasn’t being completely honest. The man drove through a winter storm to talk to me and he wasn’t doing it. I stomped into the small kitchen area and opened a cupboard. I couldn’t see crap with the light from the fire almost blocked by the couch. I managed to find a glass. I pulled it out, opened the bottle of wine that was sitting out, and poured myself a glass.
I should have brought more alcohol. If I would have known I was going to be trapped in a cabin with him, I would have brought twenty bottles.
Even that wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter 52
Chase
This was not going like I planned. It was much harder than I thought it would be.
I understood her anger, but if she could stop to see that my motivations weren’t sinister, she would understand why I did what I did. Then again, she couldn’t see past the part that seemed like I used her. I didn’t use her. My motivations came from someplace else.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell her that. I could, but I didn’t want to. If I told her why I planted the story, she would have all the power. If she knew I was crazy in love with her, that left me vulnerable. She would have the power to destroy my heart. If she laughed in my face and rejected my love, it would be too painful.
Instead, I was trying to walk a fine line between the partial truth and the full truth. Unfortunately, the partial truth made me look and sound like a real asshole. I would switch tactics. I needed to go back in time to heal the first wound, and maybe the second wouldn’t be nearly as bad.
“I’m sorry for what happened the morning after prom,” I said. “I have apologized, and I will continue to apologize for springing that on
you. I should have told you about the option. I should have discussed it with you.”
“Yes, you should have,” she snapped, carrying her glass and moving to sit down on the couch again.
“I didn’t tell you about it because I knew you would talk me out of it. You had this fire inside you that was contagious. You are tenacious, and when you want something, you get it. I wanted to be the man you thought you saw in me. I wasn’t ever going to be that man. I wasn’t meant for college. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was afraid if I went to school, you would see I wasn’t the man you believed me to be. You would be disappointed. I didn’t have the strength or the courage to push through four years of school to try and please you. I would have failed you and school.”
“You don’t know that I would have been disappointed,” she said. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you.”
“Harper, I couldn’t do college. I knew it wasn’t the right path for me. I still believe that to this day. It would have destroyed me.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Going to work with my dad was what I wanted to do. I needed to learn the business from him, not from a textbook. My dad knew his business inside and out. A professor that teaches the same thing to thousands of young adults couldn’t give me the details of our business like my father could. I wouldn’t have learned anything practical. There are some things you simply cannot learn from a book.”
She was looking at me like she thought I was full of shit. “Whatever. It’s done now.”
“I worked with my dad and learned from him. That made him happy and I think I got a superior education. I know I did. I learned a lot about the real world from someone I trusted. I was able to get my hands in the business while learning from the man that built it. He taught me what I needed to know about making deals and treating employees right. I might not be book smart, and I can’t do calculus, but I can run a successful business.”
“Congratulations.”
“I do hate that I missed the chance to have the college experience with you. I regret not getting to live in that tiny apartment we planned on. I regret not getting to spend all my time with you. But I truly believe we would have fallen apart at some point in those four years. We never would have gotten that dream we planned for. I would have been miserable. You would have been disgusted with my shitty performance in school, and ultimately, we would have broken up. I am the man I am today because I chose to work with my father. I hate that I hurt you, but I know it was the right choice.”
She was staring at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or sad or indifferent. I had a feeling I was making the situation even worse than it was. I should have stopped talking ten minutes ago. I was digging the hole deeper. As she stared at me, I heard the rumbling of an empty stomach. It wasn’t mine.
“Did you eat lunch? Dinner?”
She shrugged. “I left in a hurry and didn’t think to buy groceries.”
“I’m sure there’s something we can find here,” I said and hopped up. This was my chance to redeem myself. Maybe it was that basic male instinct inside me that dated way back to the days of the caveman. I needed to provide my woman with food.
“There is next to nothing here. What there was, I pretty much ate.”
I couldn’t believe that. I went to the bathroom and lit one of the candles before carrying it back to the kitchen. I opened the minimal cupboards and discovered she was right. There was nothing.
I saw a jar and pulled it forward. It looked to be popcorn. I twisted the lid and heard the pop. That was a good sign. The popcorn was sealed and hopefully still fresh.
I could work with that. I moved around the kitchen and found a big cast-iron pan with a lid. I opened the fridge and found a stick of butter. I didn’t know how old it was, but it looked decent enough. I carried my supplies to the woodstove and got to work.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m risking my life to feed you.”
“You’re making popcorn. When did that become deadly?”
I dropped the butter into the pan sitting on the woodstove. I waited and nearly jumped for joy when the butter began to melt. “Popping popcorn on a stove is dangerous. Little missiles of buttery popcorn can take out an eye.”
I walked back to the kitchen, found an oven mitt, and blew out the candle to conserve. I walked back to the stove, dumped some popcorn into the pan, and covered it with a clear lid. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I was hoping it did. I stood over it, watching and praying something happened.
“It’s probably too old,” she said after a few minutes. “Stale popcorn won’t pop.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” I murmured, my gaze fixated on the kernels sitting completely lifeless in the pan. I silently begged the damn things to pop.
I was kind of hungry myself. I didn’t think popcorn qualified as a balanced meal, but food was food.
Nothing happened. I could practically hear her thoughts about my incompetence. I wasn’t winning any points with the woman. If the popcorn didn’t do its thing, I was going to be sleeping in the snow.
The first pop had me jumping about three feet into the air. I heard her choked laughter and turned around with a smile on my face. “See?”
“I think you have to hold that lid on,” she pointed out just as the popping became more intense.
I had barely put my hand over it when things really started happening. Of course, the lid was hot, and I immediately burned my hand. I grabbed the oven mitt and held it down. I was overjoyed to see it actually working. I wasn’t sure it would.
When the popping settled, I carried the pan into the kitchen and dug around in the cupboard until I found a bowl. I dumped the popcorn into the bowl, sprinkled it with salt, and carried it to her. “Dinner is served.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks.”
I was feeling pretty cocky about finding her a meal, even if it was just popcorn. I was damn near ready to beat my chest. She could pretend it was nothing, but I knew it was something. With her somewhat fed, it was time to start thinking about tomorrow.
“I’m going to call Jake and let him know we are trapped here,” I said and pulled my cell phone from my pocket.
She offered a small smile before taking a bite of popcorn. It wasn’t like I could go anywhere but I did move to the kitchen to make the call. Rather, I tried to make the call.
“Did I mention there’s no service here?” she said with a small laugh.
I looked at my phone. “Shit.” I moved to the other side of the cabin hoping there would be service twenty feet away. There wasn’t.
“There’s wine,” she offered. “I was smart enough to bring that with me.”
I grabbed a glass and poured myself some wine before sitting on the couch. We sat in silence. The only sound filling the room was her munching the popcorn. I supposed there were worse things that could happen to a guy. I was stranded in a quaint, rustic cabin with the woman I loved.
Too bad she hated me.
I’d begged the heavens for a chance to explain myself, and now she was just a couple of feet away. I needed to take advantage of the situation.
It was Christmas Eve and there was a chance I could be granted a Christmas miracle. I wasn’t owed one and I probably didn’t deserve it but damn I wanted it.
“You were right,” she said.
I looked at her. “About?”
“You made the right choice not to go to college. Clearly, you’re pretty successful. That doesn’t mean this pattern of behavior is okay.”
“What pattern of behavior?” I asked.
“The one that allows you to rationalize you making decisions that affect me without bothering to consult me. You do whatever you want, right or wrong. You act and ask for forgiveness later. That is something I cannot tolerate. It’s wrong.”
“I didn’t see it as a right or wrong,” I argued.
“And that’s part of the problem.”
“The p
roblem?”
“Yes. We will never work. Me and you are not meant to be together. I could never be with someone who doesn’t respect me enough to at least talk to me about something that will impact my life.”
She could have slapped me, and it would have hurt less. She was making it damn clear she didn’t want anything to do with me. I was an idiot to think I could just walk in and make everything better with an apology. I never realized how my actions affected her. I knew they would but not in the way she was explaining.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said. “I guess I really didn’t think about it from your point of view. I was trying to do something I thought was the right thing. It wasn’t meant to be malicious. I would never intentionally do anything that would hurt you.”
She shrugged and took another bite of popcorn. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think. You just did what you always do. You just made a decision without thinking about what I might feel. I don’t think you really know me. You know the person you think you want me to be.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means you put me in this box of who you think I am. I might be tenacious, and I might be stubborn, but that doesn’t mean I can’t bend a little. You never gave me a chance. I don’t need a father or a keeper to make decisions for me. I’m a big girl, and I know what I want, and I know what’s best for me.”
She said the words with such vehemence, I was afraid to blink or make any sudden movements. She put the popcorn down between us and threw off her blanket before stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.
I let out a breath. That was not what I expected. I had a long road ahead of me if I planned on getting back in her good graces. I just didn’t know how long that road was until just now.
“Shit,” I whispered into the quiet room.
Chapter 53