Page 54 of Should Have Been Me

That was the moment I knew for sure I was in love with this woman. Jolie Prescott hadn’t just worked herself under my skin and into my bones. She’d burrowed her way into my very soul, breathing life back into the thing that was little more than just a shell.

“Oh, look at them, Walt. They’re just the cutest.” Lorene cooed, breaking the moment and causing Jolie to roll her eyes good-naturedly. “It’s obvious to see how much they care about each other. Warms my heart.”

Jolie dropped her forehead against my chest on a chuckle as Lorene shot to her feet, the woman a whirlwind of motion. “Well, now that everyone’s had a chance to let their stomach settle, I made dessert! Who likes strawberry shortcake? I made the whipped cream from scratch.”

28

VAUGHN

The following morning, I was still riding the high from the previous evening as I sat in front of my computer. I’d been trying to get work done for the past hour, but my mind kept drifting off, thoughts of Jolie taking up every available space in my brain.

I managed to muddle my way through a conference call and video meeting without letting on that I hadn’t paid a damn bit of attention. It was so out of character that if any of my colleagues had noticed, they probably would have called for a psych evaluation. I didn’t give a shit. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I was actually happy, and it was all because of her.

After my revelation the night before, I’d decided I was staying in Pembrooke. Moving operations for my company from the city to somewhere much smaller and more rural would be a pain in the ass, but being close to Jolie was worth it. I knew she worried about how fast things were moving between us, so I’d decided to keep that to myself for the time being. However, making the decision for myself had lifted a weight off my chest. It just felt... right.

My phone chimed with an incoming text from my father.

Dad: Just checking to see if you’re still available to take me to my final appointment this afternoon.

That was yet another thing to be happy about. Today was the day, my father’s last chemotherapy treatment.

I typed out a quick reply.

Me: I’ll be there.

I had Jolie. I had this town. And I had a father on the mend. I was convinced there wasn’t anything or anyone who could bring me down. I hit send as my doorbell rang. Pocketing my phone, I headed for the front door, assuming it was my weekly grocery delivery. But when I pulled it open, the very last person I expected to see stood across the threshold, and all that light and happiness I’d been holding on to only a moment earlier began to shrivel in her presence.

“Mother. What . . . what are you doing here?”

This couldn’t be happening. Not when things were finally starting to go right for me.

Estelle hadn’t changed one bit since the last time I saw her. She still wore that hard, unflinching expression that made her look like the unhappiest person on the planet. Her hair was still cut into the same fashionable bob she’d worn for years, religiously colored every six weeks to prevent any gray hair from peeking through. Like me, she didn’t have much of a need for casual clothes, choosing to dress in skirts or pants suits worn with heels of a reasonable height. She hadn’t changed, no, and that same dark cloud she dragged behind her everywhere she went had currently followed her to my front porch, the goddamn thing big enough to block out every bit of sunshine that had finally started to brighten the dark corners inside of me.

“Is that any way to greet the woman who raised you?”

I lifted my brows, a sound of sarcasm escaping from my throat. “I don’t know. Maybe when you find that woman you can ask her, because it certainly wasn’t you.”

She didn’t even flinch, not that I expected her to. She was made of ice, after all. “Are you going to stand there blocking the way or let me in? I traveled quite a way to see you, after all.”

I stepped aside, granting her entrance even though every fiber of my being rebelled against it. Nothing good could come from her being here, but it was difficult not to fall into old patterns.

“I don’t recall asking you to come for a visit, so please don’t act as if you’re doing me a favor by being here.” I moved into the kitchen, the clack of her heels against the floor as she followed me, putting my teeth on edge.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I believe I am doing you a favor. It seems your time in this... town—”she made a derisive curl of her top lip—“has clouded your judgement. I was having lunch with Evelyn Beaumont last week, and she mentioned that you’ve missed a few meetings. You don’t see that as a problem?”

I pulled a glass from the cabinet, my grip so tight it was a wonder it didn’t shatter in my hand. I used the time it took to fill it with water and drink half of it down to find my calm. “The only thing I consider a problem is that you’ve taken it upon yourself to go to members of my board of directors behind my back to ask about how I’m currently running my company, and that Evelyn would even discuss it with you. But that’s a conversation that should take place between her and me, and you can guarantee, that will be happening very soon.”

“It’s this place,” she continued like I hadn’t said a word, choosing to tune out every word I’d said. “This place is where things come to die, Vaughn. You’ve been here too long. It’s time for you to come home.”

The alarm I’d set on my cell to let me know when it was time to pick up my father went off, cutting Estelle off mid-rant.

“As lovely as this little chat has been, there’s somewhere I have to be.”

She arched a brow, the extent of emotion the woman showed. “What could possibly be more important than getting your life back on track?”

My molars ground together so hard my jaw ached as I slammed the empty glass onto the counter. “Today is Hershel’s last treatment and I’ve agreed to take him.”

“I’m sure someone else can?—”