Page 88 of The Beach Trap

Blake—

I’m sorry for the way I reacted at Boshamps. I’m happy for you and Junior, I really am. My behavior wasn’t about him, or even about you. I’d love to talk about it so I can explain and really apologize. Give me a call this week?

xx

Kat

I grab my bag and make one last stop in the second upstairs bathroom. It’s become a source of pride that I don’t have to stop once on the five-hour trip.

After I wash my hands, the toilet is still running. I jiggle the handle, but it won’t stop. I shrug and assume either it will stop on its own, or Blake will figure it out when she comes back later today. Thank goodness she knows what she’s doing with all this stuff.

One last glance in the mirror to make sure my lipstick is still fresh for a quick stop at Henry’s, and I head downstairs.

I leave the note on the dining room table, where Blake will be sure to see it, and take one more look around, burning the room into my memory in case my days here are numbered.

I’ve done all that I can do, I remind myself as I lock the door behind me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

BLAKE

The morning after the whole debacle with Kat, I sleep until the dog’s whining at the door finally forces me out of bed. After I let him outside to pee, I flop back in bed and check my phone. It’s 10:17 a.m. And there’s a text message from Noah.

Left early this morning. The regular groundskeeper will be here on Wednesday.

A hollow sensation fills my chest, a feeling I recognize all too well from my childhood. Abandonment. I have no right to feel this way—I’m the one who ended things—but still.

Just yesterday morning I woke up in bed with him, his arm heavy across my waist, his fingers tracing sleepy circles on my bare skin. And now, he’s gone.

Noah’s words from last night return to me:If we’d had more time together, I could have loved you.Did he mean that? For a split second I consider calling him, telling him I made a mistake. But then I take a breath. And remind myself that it’s better this way.

I have a house to finish renovating, a relationship to mendwith Kat, and my granddad to take care of. That’s where my focus needs to be. Not on some guy who could have loved me—but also could have broken my heart.

I should probably reach out to Kat again. She hasn’t returned my call from last night, but after what happened at Boshamps, it’s my job to set things right. I only hope that it isn’t too late, that something can be salvaged between us.

But when I call her, the phone rings and rings until her voice mail picks up: “Hi, bestie! It’s Kat. You know what to do.”

Beep.

I clear my throat. “It’s Blake. I’d really like to talk before you head back to Atlanta. Call me, okay?”

After that, there’s nothing to do but start the day with a bang, as Granddad always says.

•••

The next twenty-fourhours are full of errands to get ready for the week ahead. I’m changing out all the light switches and outlet covers, installing the new kitchen sink faucet, and replacing a faulty float valve in the main-floor toilet. As I go from store to store, I keep checking my phone, hoping Kat will return my call.

After my third trip to Home Depot, I’m on my way to the beach house when my phone rings.

I’m relieved until I see the caller ID:Shaky Oaks Assisted Living.

My pulse quickening, I answer. “Hello?”

“Is this Blake O’Neill?” The man’s voice is vaguely familiar.

“Yes.”

“Ms.O’Neill, this is Vincent Jung, the facility director here at Shaky Oaks. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately your grandfather has gone missing again.”

---