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This was supposed to be a stopgap in my life, a place to rest and recharge before I found what I really wanted. I never thought I’d discover it all here, laid out right in front of me. However, the things I’ve wanted most are the ones currently occupying my time, and I want to dedicate it all to them.
Most of all, Patrick. He spends every night in my bed, and each morning we sit at the small kitchen table making conversation or just silently smiling as we wake to the world together. I kiss him passionately before he gets in his car and heads to work, and he brings me little treats from the kitchen most nights. Yesterday, it was a little heart-shaped pastry filled with strawberry cream that he said commemorated our one month of being together.
That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. It was so simple and heartfelt and took me by such surprise as the female in the relationship who isn’t even counting those days. But Patrick had, and that means a lot.
Dinner dates to surrounding towns, mornings walking the canals, nights spent catching up on our favorite shows, and playing card games like an old married couple. We’ve grabbed drinks at the Laura Inn with his brother again, and I even had him sit in on one of the workshops I ran for some high school theater students. We stayed the night at a bed-and-breakfast on the river, dining on canapés and drinks at the rooftop bar as the Delaware rushed below us. Patrick took me on a bike ride through a wildflower preserve, and I dragged him to an art gallery in a nearby town.
He said most of his family knows we’re together and are happy about it, but he hasn’t asked me to a formal family event yet. Then, last week, I ran into his mother at the flower shop, and she told me I needed to come for dinner and that she’d love to host something for Patrick and me. It was so out of left field that I nearly dropped the bouquet of daisies I’d been holding. I hadn’t given her a concrete answer because her son and I haven’t talked about it, but taking that next step and becoming a part of the Ashton family is something I have very real dreams about these days.
I get it’s still early, but most of the town is already gossiping about us, and it’s only a matter of time before a paparazzi photo is published. As it is, they tracked me down and showed up in Hope Crest about three days after the article Yaren called me about. There has only been a couple of photographers, and they’re tactful enough only to ask questions and snap pictures in town, never venturing to the outskirts by following me to Dad’s house.
I know, because my publicist sent me the articles and press clippings. There is an entire mystery around what I’m doing here. What my next career move is. Someone reported about my dad’s funeral, a small private affair that wasn’t supposed to be for public consumption. But now that the cat is out of the bag, I’m sure others will come digging for a story.
And Patrick is bound to get caught in the crosshairs. Nervous energy fills my stomach at how he’ll react to the entire world finding out about us.
“Where did you go?” His voice has me checking back into reality, my paddle slicing through the water.
This Saturday morning, he’d gone over to the guesthouse on his parent’s property and strapped kayaks to the roof of his truck. I’d never been before, though I promised him one day we’d go surfing in Hawaii with this incredible stunt teacher I had on the set of a movie ages ago. Patrick held my thigh the entire drive down to the part of the river he usually launches from, and as he strapped me into the lifejacket in this cute, protective way, I blinked up at him and knew.
I’m falling, if not already, in love with this man.
We’re paddling side by side, the sun shining down on us and reflecting up into my eyes. Patrick wears a khaki bucket hat on his head that would make me look ridiculous, but on him, it’s transformed the button-down-wearing accountant into a hot, adorable fisherman.
“Was just thinking about when the paparazzi are going to splash our relationship all over the tabloid sites.” I bite my lip, hoping he’s not going to back out of this when it gets too public.
“Alana sent me an Instagram account full of posts on me already.” Patrick effectively bursts my bubble.
“You’re kidding.” My heart sinks. “I’m really sorry. I tried to keep it buried as long as possible.”
“Why are you sorry? One, I don’t care if people know we’re together. The whole world is in on it? Cool. Even better. Not from a fame standpoint, but I want everyone to know you’re the woman I’m enamored with. But two, you didn’t do anything wrong, baby. You simply live your life, and because of your career and who you are, people are obsessed with knowing everything about you. As they should be. But if you think this is going to scare me away, or that I hadn’t thought about the possibility, think again.”
On the one hand, I’m relieved. But another part of me knows a side of this industry he doesn’t. “Patrick, they’re going to start rumors about you, about your family. People who know you will come out of the woodwork and talk about your engagements, your lifestyle. They’ll make up fake stories about us feuding, or how I feel about your family. You’ll read this stuff, your parents will read this stuff, and think that where this is smoke, there is fire. I just need you to remember that none of it is true. That if you ever need to know what’s real, come to me. Come to the source. Because once it’s out there, the firing squad will begin. They’ll be out for blood, they always are when it comes to me.”
He places his paddle in his lap and reaches for my hand. The noses of our kayaks collide as they bob in the water, and the sound of birds chirping overhead is our soundtrack, along with the lapping waves.
“We’ll survive it. If I haven’t told you before, I’m all in, baby. Come hell, high water, or fucking paparazzi, I’m not going anywhere. I made the mistake of being a bystander once, and it cut me to pieces to watch the way people took advantage of you. The guilt I’ve lived with since then, the regret of what could have been between us … we’ll never get those years back but I want them now. What we have is special, and I’m hanging on even if it has to be by the skin of my teeth.”
Even with his declaration, I should still be worried. Especially with the onslaught of rumors and stories that will be circulated about why I’m leaving Hollywood. Patrick will take a lot of the brunt, people running rampant with the idea that he forced me to give up my career.
But I feel nothing but peace. With him, with my decision, with our relationship. I know what he’s said is true; we’ll be able to weather the storm even if it leaves us battered.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to buckle up then. I told my agent I’m quitting the business.”
That bomb is one I haven’t dropped on Patrick yet. Even with spending every day together, I needed to get some things in order and think long and hard before I revealed my plans for my future.
“Wait, what?” He’s so shocked that he half-jumps and almost capsizes himself.
“I told you it was a possibility.” We chatted about this, weeks prior, and I told him how unhappy I was.
“I guess, yeah. But you hadn’t mentioned it since. I mean, I know you’re happy here, and you love the playhouse, but leaving your career? That’s a huge step. Not that you haven’t thought about it, but … I don’t know what to say here. You threw me for a loop, baby.” He laughs a little.
“I’m not happy when I’m in LA or on set. I haven’t been happy doing those things for years, and this decision was a long time coming. My agent is closing out all my endorsements and active business, and I’m going to sell my house there, along with some companies I’ve been producing projects under. Being here has shown me that I never fit there. My heart feels complete here, and that has something to do with you.” I smirk at him. “But it also has to do with this town. The area. In my soul, I know I’m home.”
Patrick is quiet for a moment, then shakes his head as he looks down with a small smile. When our eyes meet, and his lashes flick back up, a pitter-patter that only beats for him starts in my chest.
“The big screen is going to be missing one huge talent, but I can’t say I’m that upset about it. You do belong here. You belong with me. It’s fast, but I’ve done this before. I’ve jumped headfirst and thought it was my forever. But one look at you and I know you’re the place I’m supposed to be. You planting roots here just means we get all the time in the world to do that, and I’m never going to be upset with that decision. Whatever you need, I’m here to hold your hand and help.”
We float along, our kayaks slowly taking us as our paddles stay sedentary, and we hold hands over the water. The quiet is nice, and this relationship is the first time I feel like I can be “alone, together” with a man.
