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Now that Will was home and things in LA were pretty much wrapped up, he could get back to the business of getting FRD Design up and running. The lead architect, Stephanie Hanscom, had recruited an excellent staff, and their plan was to be ready for business by the first of September. Will was impressed by her can-do attitude and the competent design team she’d built.
But he couldn’t concentrate. There were contracts and documents to review and already a multitude of design inquiries to consider... Everything was here, laid out in front of him, waiting for his undivided attention. But instead of focusing on the tasks at hand, what was he doing?Wallowing. With the same thought running through his mind on an endless loop.
I. Have. Fucked. Up.
It was a mantra, vibrating through his head as he sat staring into his cup of coffee. He’d spent all of Sunday night and into the wee hours of Monday morning revisiting nearly every moment since the beginning of his relationship with Elizabeth.
That first month, when they were getting to know each other, he was like a giddy schoolboy with his first crush. He couldn't wait to see her, couldn't spend enough time with her, couldn't kiss her or touch her enough. Thinking about that naturally led him to think about making love with her… The time spent together at her house and his... Her birthday, their trip to the Vineyard, the many sunsets they’d shared, and all the little moments in between… He’d replayed so many memories, they’d begun to blur together.
Sometime in the early morning hours, he’d managed to grab a few hours of sleep, but even then, she invaded his dreams. He woke up thinking about the afternoon he’d come back from California and how they’d lain on her bed and napped together, and how she’d opened up to him about Jason, and how they’d shared that theybothhad trust issues to work through.
So many things became crystal clear, seemingly in the blink of an eye. She didn't know; there was no way it was possible. She might know Wickham, but she didn't knowaboutWickham—who he was and what he’d done. Will knew, too, that the way he and Elizabeth had met was not by her design, it was fate. Destiny. Those pictures in her drawer... Whatever the explanation behind them, it had nothing to do with their relationship. How could he have believed differently?
Things seemed to suddenly gel in his mind, and his shoulders sagged. It was almost as if someone had ripped blinders from his eyes, urging him to see,reallysee, what was in front of him.
A pulse thrummed in the pit of his stomach, and he recognized it for what it was: fear. Instinctively, he knew it was too late. He’d walked away from her, turned his back on her when she was vulnerable and truly needed him, and now she was gone—and not just physically. He’d asked her to go, to let him be, and she’d listened.
She’s gone.
He wandered aimlessly through the townhouse and eyed his guitar, propped on a stand in the corner of his office. He hadn't played at all lately, not since he and Elizabeth had been apart. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to do more than stare at it.
He sat behind his desk, gazed at her picture, and made a decision; he would go to her, explain everything, and plead for her forgiveness. What his exact words would be, he didn’t know, but he would figure it out by the time he was standing in front of her—because it had to be done in person. If it meant traveling to South Carolina, he would go. He would call Jane and beg for her to tell him where Elizabeth was, where he could find her, and he had to do it as soon as possible.
The pulsing in his stomach quieted, but on the heels of it came the crushing weight of regret and remorse.
I. Have. Fucked. Up.
* * *
Elizabeth tunedinto the weather report with her housemates Monday night, and was dismayed to see that the storm, now a hurricane, had made landfall and was causing mass destruction in the Bahamas. The National Hurricane Center predicted it would track north-northeast, skirting along the east coast, just as Hurricane Bob had done years ago.
Why doesn't someone just drop a house on me and get it over with?
She would have to return to the Cape. Jason had already mentioned that the storm would cause any research at the basin to be suspended anyway; everyone would be stuck in the house, and they would probably drive each other crazy.
Marie turned to her. “Can you believe this shit?”
Elizabeth couldn't help it, she laughed. “The way my life has been going lately, I'd believe anything you threw at me.”
Marie pouted comically. “I'm sorry, you're the last person I should be complaining to. What are you going to do?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I need to go, but I want to come back after the storm passes. If I thought my father could take care of everything himself, I would stay. But I really can’t expect him to do it on his own. I have a sister on the Cape, but I don't think she would be much help.”
“If you decide to go, it has to be in the next day or two. Winds are just over ninety miles an hour now, so she's verging on a category two, but you know as well as I do that as soon as she hits open water again, she'll speed up and strengthen.”
“I know. I have to talk to Jason tonight.” Elizabeth would call her father and Jane too, to let them know what was happening.
She went in search of Paul and Lisa and found them in the kitchen preparing dinner.
“Hey, Liz. I hope everyone's hungry, we're making lasagna,” Lisa said.
“That sounds great. Um, question—did Jason happen to mention any details about what we're supposed to do if the storm heads our way?”
“He's coming by tonight to discuss that very thing, actually,” Paul told her. “You worried about your house?”
“A little, yes. I mean, we made out alright during the last big hurricane that hit the Cape, but I need to get some of my belongings out of the house and to a safer spot, just in case.”
