Beck: No one’s answering the goddamn door. The house looks empty.
Beck: What the fuck is going on?
Beck: Something is wrong. I refuse to believe this is how you’re breaking up with me.
Beck: Are your parents behind this?
Beck: Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.
(Two hours later)
Beck: You haven’t read my messages in more than 24 hours. I don’t know what happened to you, and I’m officially freaked.
Beck: Hattie, sweetheart. Please. Please tell me you’re okay.
Chapter Twenty-Three
BECK
“Javier says the harvest is all but done,” Pop mutters over his lunch.
I have half a sandwich in one hand and Instagram open on my phone in the other. I don’t look up. “Uh huh.”
Other than posting about when Olivier Family Farms will be at a farmer’s market, I have nearly zero social media presence. Griffin has made it clear that’ll have to change if I officially try to make a go of the distillery, but that’s a problem for future me.
I broke down and texted Margaret this morning, but the phone only shows that my message has been delivered, not read.
Hattie told me she and Merrick were honeymooning in Hawaii. It’s only 7:20 a.m. in Hawaii. I know. I looked it up.
I should be patient, but I haven’t heard from Hattie since her 1 a.m. text Monday. It’s Friday. Hattie’s not home. No one is.
It feels like all of my vital organs have been ejected from my body and replaced with fire ants.
I can’t reach any of the Merciers, so now I’m trying to find Merrick on social media.
I’ve run down the list of reasonable explanations for Hattie’s silence. Honestly, the best case scenario is that she’s ghosting me because she wants to break up.
But that just doesn’t feel true.
Not at all.
Not given the time we’ve shared. Not given what we’ve become to each other.
Not after last weekend.
She loves me. And she knows I love her.
I can’t believe anything else.
Which can only mean something is very wrong.
What I don’t know is: Do Margaret and Merrick know that something is very wrong?
“You makin’ deliveries today?”
I scroll through every Instagram search hit.
BAM!
