Page 62 of Cloud Nine Love

Misty inhaled audibly and then held her breath. It was something she did whenever she was nervous. She’d already told me she was pregnant with another man’s child; I couldn’t imagine what she could possibly be nervous about telling me now. I remained quiet, giving her time to build up her courage.

“I was wondering if you’d let me buy you out?”

Misty was a model, and although she’d had several high-profile campaigns, as far as I knew, she didn’t have hundreds of thousands of dollars sitting around. “Um, I didn’t know you had that kind of money.”

“I don’t. It’s my parents’.”

Misty hadn’t grown up wealthy. Her family was comfortably middle-class. Her mom was a professor at San Diego State, and her dad worked in IT. About ten years ago, her dad sold a patent that made him a millionaire overnight. He was smart and invested his money. She was their only child, and it didn’t surprise me that they would offer to help her out.

“They know how much I love this place, and it’s a good investment. They want to keep it in the family for…”

Her words trailed off, but I knew what she was going to say. “For the baby.”

“I’m so sorry, Remi.” Her voice cracked as she apologized.

“Don’t be. It’s okay, Misty, really.”

“You don’t hate me?” she asked as she took in a shaky breath.

“I could never hate you.” I still loved Misty, I always would. I just wasn’t in love with her.

“Thank you,” she broke down crying. “Thank you for being…well, you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I know I’m not blameless in this, Misty. I know that. You asked me for years to consider going to a station. I just thought… I don’t know what I thought. But, I’m sorry, too.”

“Thank you,” she said again, and I could hear that she was trying to pull herself together. She sniffed as she said, “Well, think about the house?—”

“I don’t have to. You can buy me out.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? It’s a big decision.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” It was the right thing to do. She’s spent way more time there than I had, since my job kept me away half the year. She’d grown up in San Diego, and it was her dream home. Having to sell the house would only drag things out. The only reason I would do that would be to punish her, which I had no desire to do.

She exhaled in relief. “Um, okay. Well, my dad already had the contracts drawn up, so I can send them to you with the appraisal. If everything looks good, he said he can transfer the money ASAP so we can both… you know…”

“Move on,” I completed again.

“Yeah.”

“Sounds good.” I started to hang up when I heard her say my name.

“Remi.” Her voice was so small, so quiet I nearly didn’t hear it.

I lifted the phone back up to my ear. “Yeah?”

“I know that this might be hard for you to believe, but I really do love you, and I am really sorry. Thank you for…everything.”

“I know. I’m sorry too, Misty.”

The phone call disconnected, and as soon as it did, I felt a weight lift off me. I felt closure. I felt like I was no longer living in limbo, and I knew exactly what to do next, so I made another call. This one was to Jan Jenson, a realtor in Wishing Well. I set up an appointment with her that afternoon. I’d barely said goodbye when my mom walked into the front of the trailer.

“Morning, sleepy head.” I grinned.

“Do you have my phone?” she asked, ignoring my greeting as she looked around, searching for her device. “What time is it?”