Page 19 of When I Fall In Love

8

BETH

I feel like shit and I probably look like a raccoon.

This is what you get when you don’t sleep. Insomnia has been my best friend for some time, but with Hunter materializing out of the blue my roll-around-at-night exercises have turned up several notches. My head is positively swimming with exhaustion and if I were training for the Insomnia Olympics, I’d be in top form.

I couldn’t sleep because my mind had to replay every thorny bit of conversation Hunter and I had last night. My mind sanded down Raiden’s running away and inspected all the layers that that one comment revealed, and then, my heart just wanted to go back to the moment where Hunter hugged me back, his chest a hard solid strength against my breasts.

That moment had felt like warmth, like home, like a life raft that came upon me just before I drowned in open seas. I press the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to squeeze the tired out of them. Home isn’t a place. It’s people.

My people, the fragile bond between Mom, Kyle and me, have gone from thirds to halves. With Mom gone, it’s now just Kyle who is my people. As kids we were so close, but as adults our lives have split ever further apart. It doesn’t help that we live more than an hour and a half’s commute from each other, and that Kyle takes his career as seriously as I take mine. To start your own business is no joke. That we don’t carve out more time for each other is just as much my fault as his.

A sense of home wasn’t the only thing that percolated through our clothes to me as Hunter held me in that sure and steady embrace. I groan as I rip the covers from my body and stumble out of bed. I need a cold shower. Turns out not only men need those.

I fumble my way through my morning routine and make my way to the kitchen for some coffee. After breakfast it’s make-up, hair, dress, office. God. Why does that sound so… horrible? My chest tightens and I grab the kitchen counter for a moment to breathe through the dread that’s been piling up in me over the years. It didn’t feel this bad yesterday, did it? I mean, every morning is a struggle, but it’s like that for everybody. Totally normal.

With a wide step I peel away from the counter and curse. This whole Collingwood Farm thing has gone overnight from being a gnarly surprise, then an unexpected windfall—still to materialize—to a Vermont swan song.

No. I can’t. With brutal mental force, honed to perfection by my job, I stride back to my bedroom and conceal the night’s restlessness with make-up. Hair done, power suit on, I’m good. I’m ready. Bring it on, world.

By the time I get to the office, I’m ready to crumble to pieces. Fuck Hunter Logan for disrupting my fragile peace.

“Heavens,” Jana says as we pass each other in the corridor. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m at work,” I say, defensively. Where else would I be—I literally have nowhere else to go.

“Didn’t I tell you to take time off yesterday?”

“Yes, but—”

Jana leans in, her face in mine. “Jesus Christ, Beth, your concealer is so thick and cakey, you could engrave an SOS in there.”

Immediately my fingers reach for my face, dab-dab-dabbing under my eyes as I blink. “Better?”

“Lord Almighty help me here already.” Jana nods with her head in the direction of her office and I follow her, feeling the uncomfortable chill of career suicide amble down my spine. Jana rarely swears, but when she brings in Jesus? That’s when I know I’ve pissed her off.

“What happened last night?” Jana proceeds without preamble. “I saw you leave with the guy from your last meeting and now you turn up at work looking like this?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened. Hunter and I… we just went for drinks and a bite.”

“And?”

I groan as I close my eyes and throw my head back. “And it’s as if a giant super plow has raked through my head.” And my body. But I don’t mention that. “Unearthing everything I’ve buried for years.”

“Thought so.” Jana stares at me, pensively. “Where’s Hunter Logan from?”

“Ashleigh Lake, Vermont.” I eye Jana as she settles behind her desk and shakes her mouse to bring her computer screen to life.

“Let’s see, Ashleigh Lake,” Jana mutters as she types. “Apparently the most romantic town in Vermont?”

That must be new. “Wasn’t called that when I lived there.”

“Oooh, it’s so pretty. I can see why they call it romantic.” Jana is scrolling. “It’s so quaint. I mean—look at these pretty streets. Oooh, here’s someone local’s Instagram feed. And you don’t want to go there? Look at the foliage! Look at the lake… What’s wrong with you, woman?”

I walk over to her side to see what she’s looking at. Ashleigh Lake’s main thoroughfare still looks exactly like the last time I saw it. Old red brick buildings filled with artisan shops at street level, lined with maple trees that should soon burst into warm fall colors. I home in on the Instagram feed. “Those images aren’t current. It’s only the end of September now and fall only gets serious mid-October.” My heart sinks. Fall was always my favorite season in Vermont.

“You still have time. Let’s see.” Jana opens a hotel booking website and enters some random dates. We wait as the circle turns on the screen. “What the actual? Two thousand dollars a night? What madness is this?” She scrolls but her search results are dire. There’s nothing available for even a week. “Surely this isn’t right.”

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