Page 95 of Stick Break
I step into the kitchen, and look back at her. “More coffee?”
I find her scanning the counter. “No groceries?”
Groceries. Right. Shit. I meant to grab some. I did, after all, leave a note telling her that’s where I’d gone. But then the cottage, people recognizing me, and Roman…
Her eyes narrow just a little, her shoulders pulling in. “Rip?”
“Right. I got sidetracked.”
“Roman?”
“Ah, yeah.”
Her shoulders tighten, and I realize exactly how that sounded.
Like a lie.
…and in a way, it is.
24
Charley
There’s no one else…
Those four words have been playing over and over in my mind for the last three days. I can only assume he was talking to Lyra. No one else calls him as much as she does and he obviously told her I wasn’t in the picture, because he wants her back. What other reason could there be for him to say that. None that I can think of and it does make me wonder if it really was Roman who called that day when he forgot to get the groceries. God, I feel so stupid thinking he offered me a place to stay in Boston because he wanted me…not Lyra.
I’ve been playing it cool, hoping I’m wrong about everything. I only heard a portion of his conversation, and in the past I’ve always offered him privacy when she called. But something in the fact that he didn’t bring it up, then disappeared, only to come back with no groceries has left my stomach sour.
But it’s not just that. He’s been on his phone a lot more. Going into town without me. Going for walks at odd hours, which to me, seems like sneaking around. Here I am making plans to go back to Boston with him, but I can’t do that if he has an agenda that doesn’t involve a future. Not only that, he doesn’t even know who I really am. I’m sure of it. I still have to deal with my identity, the video, and the possible fallout if he doesn’t believe me.
I step outside and glance around, letting the warm salt air rush over me. I’m wound so tight even the soothing sounds of waves slapping the shore in the near distance do little to relax me. Honest to God, when I climbed through the kitchen window, I had no idea I’d fall for the man who kept that bed warm before I crawled into it. I wouldn’t change a thing.
Except maybe tell him who I was from the beginning, and maybe let him know that I knew who he was too. But it’s too late to go back now. We can only move forward and I pray to God we’re going to do it as a couple.
If not…if he and Lyra are getting back together, I can’t go back to Boston with him… Nor can I can’t stay here for a second longer.
I scan the sandy path leading to town. Rip left hours ago, and I thought he’d be back by now. I have no idea what’s keeping him. He seemed excited when he left, saying he wanted to check on a boat rental, and that he also had to pick up something up. What he had to pick up, is anyone’s guess.
I walk around the fire pit and when I hear Emma strumming next door, it lightens my soul. I walk the path to Betsy’s and a big smile lights up Emma’s face when she sees me.
“Charley, come over.”
“You’re sounding great,” I tell her, injecting enthusiasm into my voice.
Emma pats the chair beside her. “Listen.” I drop down next to her and she works on the hard note she’d been having trouble with.
“You’ve really been practising.” I’m honestly so proud of her.
She exhales, my praise making her smile extra wide. I’ve been enjoying teaching her, and it got me thinking…maybe I would be a good teacher. Maybe I could go back to school. I know I’m leaving here soon, but it breaks my heart not to continue lessons with Emma. I know there are other teachers out there, but she seems to enjoy my guidance as much as I enjoy teaching her. God, what am I going to do when I have to leave this place.
Which might be sooner, rather than later.
I cut off that negative thought, but my gut is still tight with worry.
“Charley,” Betsy says peeking out the door. “I just made tea.”
“I would love some,” I tell her and adjust my sunhat on my head. My stomach was so tight this morning, I could barely get a coffee down and I only fiddled with breakfast, not wanting Rip to think anything was wrong. I dn’t want to be making a big thing out of his conversation, his disappearances, if it’s nothing. Honest to God, my ex did a number on me. Which is why I have to keep reminding myself that Rip is not my ex. He’s not shown any red flags since I met him…well, up until latterly…that phone call with Lyra.
