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And now I knew it was because I held on to the foolish hope he’d stay.
He did what you asked him to do. It’s not his fault that he made the choice you knew he would.
You knew this was coming.
I only wished I’d been wrong.
22
Easy Come, Easy Go
SEBASTIAN
The rocking chair creaked as I rocked on my front porch, staring at rolling hills in the distance through a break in the trees.
It’d been a long couple of days. And I could feel everything I’d been working for slipping away, but I couldn’t figure out how or why.
We’d lost our grip on the fight with Goody’s. None of us had any tricks up our sleeves, but Goody’s knew just where to press. This wasn’t their first fight. I suspected they had a corporate department devoted to decimating small towns—the swiftness and efficacy of their campaign had cut us off at the knees.
My throat and lungs were still raw from the tear gas, but my skin had calmed down for the most part. I’d spent the better part of yesterday in bed, and today I’d just been doing a whole lot of thinking. I’d gotten our final economic study back, but it was too little too late, especially after the fiasco in the park. A couple of my buddies in the police force who were there had come by off the record to voice their dissent. Evan was talking about a push to have Sheriff Baker removed from office and replaced with an interim sheriff. But as of now, we didn’t have the support we needed to make that move.
I didn’t know what to do. But rolling over wasn’t an option.
I brushed the thought away in favor of Presley. A smile brushed my lips—she was on her way over now after finishing up her order and dropping it off downtown. It was nearly dusk, and knowing she’d worked most of yesterday on this too—and with almost no sleep—had my stomach twisted. I hated seeing her work this hard, not when she wasn’t enjoying it.
But this was temporary for her, if I had anything to do with it.
I heard her truck before I saw it rumbling up the drive and stood, smiling as I leaned against the porch rail so I wouldn’t bum rush her. She offered a tired smile, putting her truck in park. Her exhaustion was visible in the sag of her shoulders and the heaviness of her eyelids.
I decided then that we’d spend the rest of the night in bed.
She slid out of her truck and made her way up the stairs and into my arms, but something about the embrace was anxious, desperate.
I kissed the top of her head. “What’s the matter?”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Don’t change the subject,” I teased.
She held onto me for a second longer before breaking away. The look in her eyes sent a shock of fear through me. And then she uttered the four fatal words, words no one ever wants to hear.
“We need to talk.”
“What about?”
A pause. “Do you want to go inside?”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know,” she huffed, frustrated but not angry. Just emotional. And then she met my eyes again and blurted, “Olivia called this morning and offered me a job at the farm making soaps and candles for their store. She has a house for me and mom and Cilla, a salary. Insurance. We could move back to California, and I could make a living doing exactly what I want. No more waiting tables. No more worrying over money.”
I reeled. “You … that’s everything you wanted, Pres.”
“One job, doing what I love. No more relying on the kindness of our family to take care of us. We could go home.”
The word sounded strange on her lips, and I didn’t know if it was because of how she’d said it, or because in this context, home wasn’t here.
“Are you going to take the job?” I asked, gripping the rail of the porch so tight, I thought it might buckle.
“Well, you’re leaving, aren’t you?”
My brows clicked together. “What are you talking about?”
“I found the plane tickets, Bas. Your itinerary. Why was your passport out, sitting right on top of a stack of letters and pictures and plane tickets?”
“You went through my things?” I asked darkly.
“Don’t do that. They weren’t hidden. You weren’t even trying to conceal them, that’s how sure you are. But somehow, I’m the last to know. My cousins weren’t surprised—they heard you talking up your trip to Brian Buchanan.”
“Oh, well, if your cousins say so, why ask me?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“Nobody is surprised except me. Why does it look to everyone around you like you’ve one foot out the door?” She shook her head. “Marnie warned me of this. She said you would leave, but I didn’t want to believe her.”
