Page 88 of Making New Plans

“Of course my friends knew! But I don’t think it’s so wrong for me to not want our relationship gossiped about over orange juice and scrambled eggs at Monty’s. And yes, I was avoiding my mother, but only because I knew she’d do something like this.” Chloe waved her arms around.

I snorted. “Then you were hiding from the inevitable. You always knew that something like this was going to happen. You’ve been hiding from that woman most of your life because you think that’s the only way to avoid situations like this.”

Chloe fell back a step. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hunter.”

I closed the distance between us again. “Yes, I do. Tell me, why don’t you drum with Sarah and Carter when they perform? Why haven’t you shown anyone else your ideas for the lodge? Why haven’t you had any other public relationships with men your mother hasn’t picked out for you?”

She shook her head as if to dislodge my words from her ears. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly.”

My voice softened. “You’re so afraid of making a mistake that you give up the possibility of happiness.”

A fierce scowl seized her features. “And you’re so confused about what happiness means that you’ll choose a job over a home.”

I stiffened. “It’s not just a job. It’s a chance to prove that I’m better than my parents were. To leave my mark on something for generations to come.” To show the world that I could make it on my own. That I didn’t need them any more than they’d wanted me.

“There you go again, having conversations without me,” Chloe whispered. She hesitated then added, “For what it’s worth, you’re nothing like your parents. The only person you’re trying to prove a point to is yourself. And I hope you do one day.”

Her eyes grew silvery with tears. She studied my face while I struggled to comprehend her words.

“Goodbye, Hunter,” she said before hurrying toward the door.

“Chloe.” Her name rasped from my throat, but she left without looking back. “Don’t leave,” I whispered too late.

Why couldn’t I have said that when she was in the room? Why didn’t I give in to my heart’s urge to run after her, gather her up in my arms, and promise to do anything to stay with her?

Because I couldn’t shift away the memories of my parents’ resentment of each other, an animosity that only ended with death. I’d vowed to never be like them. To never let any regret come between me and success and eventually that elusive true happiness.

But Chloe walking away from me burned a hole through my chest. That agony was so acute and so familiar, it dredged up another memory. One I tried desperately not to think about. The vivid image flared before I blacked it out again.

Sal driving away from me at the airport. Leaving me alone to board a flight to an all-boys boarding school. Away from her. Away from home. And she hadn’t looked back either.

But none of that mattered anymore. Because now, I made my own choices.

In five days, I’d leave here. For good.

33

Chloe

By some miracle, I made it to Friday.

I vaguely remember doing my job, an overly caffeinated smile etched into my face and a permanent headache hammering at my temples. Much like the sounds that had been coming from the old house all week.

In silent agreement, Hunter and I had avoided each other. He spent most of his days outside, and I handled things inside. I gave Monty’s a wide berth around lunchtime, and he usually left me a note when he planned to go for a walk around town. No doubt so I wouldn’t wander out unawares.

Oh, yes, the notes. We were back to that. Maybe he looked at texting the same way I did. That it would be too easy to keep talking. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that every time I saw a colorful little square pasted to my desk or office door that I hoped he’d written more than “went for a walk” or “out to lunch” or “helped the maid take down the toilet paper after the triplets from the Willow Room TP’d it.”

I wasn’t even sure what I wanted him to say. We’d said everything we could on that awful Sunday. I’d gone over and over those events in my head, and every time, I arrived at the same conclusion. I couldn’t ask him to give up his dream any more than he could ask me to give up mine. He couldn’t stay here, and I couldn’t go with him. My life was here, my dream of making Pine Grove a tourist hub was here, my friends and my non-disowned family were here.

I’d thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten so attached to Tangled River and our ideas for Pine Grove and, well, me that he’d want to stay.

But Pine Grove wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. I never was. And I was tired of feeling that way. That meant, over the last few days, I’d zipped up my feelings and soldiered on.

Thankfully, Sarah, Gina, and Rose seemed to be the only ones who knew anything about what had happened. They’d expressed sympathy and had sent many care packages my way when they couldn’t be physically present. Not that I was good company anyway.

But my privacy wouldn’t last. After our meeting with the lawyer and Sal in a few minutes, Hunter would leave, and everyone would know. Then I’d have a different hell to deal with. Sarah had already cleared out our freezer for the consolation casseroles I was sure to get.

I just had to push through one meeting. One more time seeing him.

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