Page 58 of Holiday at Home
How can he promise that?
Is he so clueless that he’s unaware how much I’ll miss him when he leaves?
If only I had the courage to ask him. The problem would be solved. I’d know. All the questions would come to an end…
But therein lies the problem.
The end.
I’d rather eke out every possible moment with Simon than face the truth. I’d rather hide in the fairytale a few more days than let it all come crashing down around me now.
And so maybe I need to harden my heart.
Maybe I need to take everything he says and does with a grain of salt.
To remind myself he’s trying to make up for the way he left things.
To enjoy the time we have but know…know…that none of it is permanent.
25
Simon
I wake to an empty bed, smiling at the memory of Violet kissing my forehead before she left for the bakery this morning. Groggy, I head downstairs and find Robbie sitting at the table, arms crossed, eyes barely open. His posture screams sleep-numbed and nonfunctional. Coffee drips and bubbles in Violet’s ancient coffee maker.
“Mornin,’” Robbie grumbles, glancing up as I walk in.
“I notice you didn’t saygood,” I reply with a wry smile.
He drags his hands over his face, blinking in the low light. “Nothing’s good until coffee.”
Robbie is not a morning person. Never has been, never will be. Apparently, not even boot camp, BUDS, and life as an active-duty SEAL could drill the grumpiness out of him. They say discipline changes a man. Clearly, they’ve never met Robert Kincaid before sunrise.
I pull out a chair and sit. Robbie drops his cheek onto his fist and glares in my direction. “What’re you doing here, man?”
I recoil, hands up, head tilted. “What the hell? I came down for coffee. Kinda like you.”
“I mean, what are you doinghere? In Violet’s house? In her life?” Robbie drags a hand over his close-cropped hair. “You didn’t see her after you broke up with her. You didn’t see her after her parents died. We all know how this is gonna end. And guess what… you aren’t gonna see her then, either. You’ll be in New York. She’ll be here. Nora will be on the phone, running daily defense on depression.”
Well, hell.
That’s a lot to process in my first five minutes of consciousness.
I drop my head into my hands as the coffee hisses and gurgles to a stop, spitting the last bit of brew into the carafe. With a sigh, I push back from the table, chair legs scraping against tile, and cross the room to pour two mugs of coffee.
It’s a fair question. The same question that’s been driving me crazy these last few days.
WhatamI doing here?
I’m falling back in love with the woman I thought was my forever.
That much is clear.
I’m considering moving back home for a chance to be with her… and that much is significantly less clear.
I have no job prospects in Stillwater Bay, and a damn good life waiting for me in the city.
A prosperous life.
