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I stand with my back against the refrigerator, letting the cool metal hold me up. I’m choosing an appliance for support instead of Jackson. It feels safer, less likely to cloud my decisions. He stays on his side of the kitchen, and I meet his eyes, needing him to understand what I’m about to do.
“I’ve been neglecting my responsibilities, running away to play house at a winery. I should’ve been there,” I say.
He walks over to face me, crossing his arms. “Really? What could you have done? Wouldn’t it have been even worse if they’d figured out you were living there?”
He’s right, but I don’t want to let myself off the hook. I’m too overwrought with guilt. All I can think is that I need to get in my car and drive to Berkeley. It may not be a solution, but it’s the right thing to do.
“I don’t know.” It’s a cop-out answer, but I can’t come up with anything better.
Jackson reaches for my hand. Without realizing it, I’ve had my hand wrapped around the refrigerator door, white-knuckling it. I let go and allow myself to be comforted by what he’s offering me—strength, reason, kindness.
He smooths the strands of hair from my forehead and tips his head against mine. “You’re overwhelmed. I get it. You’ve lost people important to you, and you don’t want to lose your sister. I get that too.”
“She’s my person,” I whisper because I feel too choked up thinking about losing her to talk.
He nods against my forehead. “I know. Fiona is mine. But…maybe we can have more than one person.”
I don’t need to ask for clarification about who the second person would be. I want him to be it for me, but I can’t find my way there right now. “Maybe,” is all I can muster.
He’s right. I’m overwhelmed. And terrified that loving him means losing my sister. All I’ve done is let her down since I took this job. “I’m stretched too thin. I need to go home.”
He starts to answer when Fiona bounds in the door. “Hey. Why didn’t you come?” She looks so hopeful, open to whatever the world has in store for her. I wish I could see the same in her dad. I know he loves me, but I’m only getting a shadow of him. It’s not enough for me.
“I need to go back to Berkeley, sweetie. My sister needs my help.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Jackson touches my shoulder. “Take the time you need. I’ll talk to Dash about having someone fill in.”
I don’t want to leave without a more definitive plan, but I can’t think straight. I need to get back to my sister and help her figure out the next move. I need to run numbers, see how much I can afford for an apartment, find an impossible vacancy in a jam-packed college town.
“Probably not, Fi. It may take me a bit to get her squared away, but I’ll be back to see you, I promise.”
I know Fiona is disappointed. I can see it on her face.
But it’s nothing compared to how Jackson is looking at me, eyes soft, mouth set in a grim line. I want to tell him I’m not Annabelle, that my heart breaks at the idea of leaving him and Fiona. But I can’t say that in front of her. It’s too much, and she just wants to play in the vineyard. Can’t say I blame her.
Holding Fiona’s hand, Jackson walks me to the door and kisses me on the cheek. I can’t look at either of them because I know it will make me cry, but Jackson doesn’t let me off the hook that easily.
“Hey,” he says, tipping up my chin. “This is going to work out. Take the time you need. And also…I’m sorry you lost your viniculture.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and my throat feels tight with a surge of tears that I try to blink back. He understands me. It makes it even harder to walk away.
ChapterThirty-Three
Jax
It’s been nearly a week, and I haven’t heard from Ruby. I don’t know what I expected—texts and phone calls telling me she’s okay and she realizes she loves me?
Even one text or phone call to keep my heart from tumbling off a cliff, feeling Annabelle leaving all over again?
I told her to take the time she needs, but maybe I didn’t really mean it. I wanted her to needme, and I saw glimmers of Annabelle leaving to pursue her own goals and desires. I thought that if I gave her space, she’d find her way back here. But she hasn’t, and now I’m losing faith.
In myself, in her. In us.
The sun may be shining its bright damn self over the vines and giving all the grape peepers the perfect damn selfie opportunities, but I don’t want any of it. They can have their views.
I walk quickly down the winding path past the lake because I’m a masochist. Following the path that’s now permanently imprinted with memories of Ruby and I wandering, talking, kissing…it just makes me miss her more.
