Page 49 of Come to Me

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, letting out a heavy sigh. The tranquility of the cabin had become a double-edged sword. It provided the solace he craved, but it also amplified his longing for Michaela's vibrant presence.

Begrudgingly, Patrick acknowledged the pull he felt towards her. He had come here to find clarity, to sort through the turmoil in his life, yet Michaela had become a persistent distraction. Shaking his head, he rose from the bed, determined to regain his focus.

As he’d done the last few days, he showered and dressed, made breakfast of coffee and toast, and then…well…mostly he hung around doing nothing. He occasionally went for a walk. He tried fishing but gave up when the fish kept stealing his worms. More than once, he left his cabin to seek out Michaela, but chickened out. The only time he’d seen her, she’d been heading to a cabin with a toolbox. His chest ached at the sight of her.

A few times he’d gone for a walk, he returned to find fresh towels and sheets, and food stocked in his kitchen. Michaela had brought them he was sure because he could smell her sweet scent lingering in the cabin.

This morning, Patrick stepped outside, spotting Tate meandering towards his cabin. The boy's arrival piqued his interest, and Patrick found himself eager to check in on him. Before Tate could approach, Michaela's voice carried through the distance.

"Tate, leave Dr. Andres be.” Her tone was kind but firm. "He needs his space right now."

Patrick paused, watching as Tate obediently turned and headed back towards the main lodge.

Michaela's words stung, even though it was his fault she said them. The raw realness of their connection was firmly in the past. What could have been if he hadn’t accused her of being a gold digger? Maybe nothing. Her ease in dismissing him proved that it had been nothing more than a fleeting fling, just as they’d agreed to.

He watched her bustle about the grounds, her vibrant presence a stark contrast to the growing emptiness within him. Although he had insisted on maintaining distance, the hollow ache in his chest only intensified with each passing day.

He was an idiot, feeling foolish for the longing he harbored. Michaela moved on, and he needed to do the same. Retreating into the cabin, he tried to push aside the disappointment that threatened to consume him. He had come here to find answers, not to be distracted by the allure of a woman he could never truly have.

It was time to find himself. He hadn’t been successful the last few days, but he wasn’t a quitter. Patrick poured another cup of coffee pondering his options for the day. He could go for a hike. Fish. Swim. He was considering leaving the resort to visit antique shops when his phone rang.

Seeing Sydney’s number felt like a lifeline.

“Hey, stranger,” she said when he answered. “How about lunch? I’ve got the afternoon off.”

Patrick felt a surge of relief at the invitation. He would look like such a dope hanging around with no clue as to what to do. "When and where would you like to meet?"

She gave him a restaurant in Charlotte Taver, a quaint town at the base of the mountain. He was eager to escape the confines of the cabin, even if just for a brief respite.

Patrick stepped into the restaurant in Charlotte Tavern, his eyes scanning the tables until he spotted Sydney waving him over. As he approached, he noted the happiness and peace that always exuded from her since she and Mitch reconciled. Seeing them had taught him that real love existed, something he’d long ago given up on. He’d met women he’d respected and enjoyed being around, but none evoked the passion he saw between Sydney and Mitch. Except for Michaela.

"Patrick, it's so good to see you!" Sydney greeted him warmly, standing to give him a hug.

"You act like it’s been years.” He returned her hug and then helped her to her seat. He sat across from her.

“I love that you’re so close. You know…Charlotte Tavern could use a good psychiatrist.”

He held his hand up. “I think it’s clear I’m not suited to the country.”

She made a face. “Not everyone has to mud bog or four-wheel or whatever you were doing.”

“It should be an Olympic sport. Mitch could take home the gold.”

She laughed. “I’m glad you see you in good spirits. I was worried about you the other day. I haven’t seen you like that in a while.”

Was it noticeable? “Like what?” He feigned not knowing what she was talking about.

“Like you lost your best friend. Like you didn’t know which way was up.”

“Maybe you should have been a shrink.”

She put her hand over his. “You know, I love you, right? All I want is for you to be happy.”

“I’m happy.”

She arched a brow.

“Enough.”

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