Page 44 of In Your Wake

“Jesus, what did you find out?” Celia asks, alarmed.

I tuck my chin into the neck of my sweater. “My mother, Joanne, was having an affair with his dad.”

Celia’s face drops in angry shock. “With Bill?”

I answer with a tight grin.

“Holy shit.” She makes a sound of disgust. “But what about how you felt?” she asks. “I mean, your mother was cheating, too.”

“I confronted her. She begged me to understand. Said she’d made a mistake and made me promise not to tell anyone. She swore it was over. And stupid me, I believed her.”

“As anyone would.”

“They kept sneaking around until…” The pain in my heart is still raw as I let out a heavy sigh and drop my head.

“Until Mitch found out,” Celia says, piecing it together.

I nod. “He found them in bed together. I was sick of the guilt hanging over me and I felt horrible about lying. I figured I finally didn’t have to lie to him anymore. So, I came clean and admitted that I’d known. Thinking it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“And let me guess,” Celia replies. “Instead of dealing with his emotions maturely, he took it out on you?”

“Pretty much. He said some awful things. Shut down. But that wasn’t the worst part. I deserved that.” I rush to take a sip—or five—of wine. “A few days later, I went to see him. Only he wasn’t alone. He was with this girl named Jessa De Luca.”

“And we don’t like her, do we?” Celia asks, narrowing her gaze.

“No, we don’t. She was this ditsy hoe-bag that Mitch had a crush on.”

“Ugh,” Celia says, rolling her eyes.

“I freaked out and ran away. Avoided him at all costs, but he made it easy.” I force a smile, holding back the stinging tears filling my eyes. “We never spoke after that.”

“Oh, Max…” Celia rubs my back with her hand, then pulls me into a side-hug that I surrender to and I release my tears.

“My grandma used to say, ‘Don’t let little boys get you down—they’re tiny pricks that grow up to be big dicks’.”

I chuckle, despite the heartache.

“You’re older and wiser now. Don’t you think you should talk to him about this?”

“There’s a lot more to it. It’s complicated.” Wiping my face with my sleeve, I pull away. “I’m not sure I can. I mean, look at me. I can’t break down like this in front of him. It’s humiliating. He’ll see that I shouldn’t be running the inn. It’ll give him ammo to fight Bill and Robyn’s decision. He’ll think I’m the last person he should be around.”

“Would you stop it?” she says, sharply enough that I recoil. “This is how you feel, and he deserves to know it. He needs to see how much he hurt you. He doesn’t get to break your heart and then get off scot-free. And I sincerely doubt he’d use your fully permitted emotions against you.”

There’s fire in her eyes, in her words. She’s getting over a messy divorce with her piece of shit ex-husband, so I’m sure that explains her reaction.

“But I hurt him, too. I’m the one who lied to him. He won’t forgive that. I can’t even forgive myself.”

“Well, there’s the real issue. How can you expect him to forgive you when you don’t think you’re worthy of forgiveness? Trust me, I’m older and wiser. I know things.” She smiles. “You were a kid. You both were. You made mistakes, and now’s your chance to make up for them.” She reaches for the wine bottle and refills my glass. “Now drink up.”

Mitch

I’m not big into hugs, but when Hunter Nolan gives me one, it’s like being welcomed home. No matter when. No matter where. His presence is comfort personified.

We hung out last night at the opening, but we didn’t get a chance to talk about what happened in the cemetery. But his wide grin and the happiness oozing from him tells me that things with Celia went well. Better than well if the two hickeys on his neck are any indication.

I cover them with my hand and grin. “Busy night?”

He swats my hand away. “You could say that. Just got home a few hours ago,” he says, shutting the door behind me and Spencer.