Page 90 of Meet Me in the Vines
“And?” I ask, bracing myself for what I’m about to hear.
Please don’t be Kellan. Please don’t be Kellan.
“It’s Ted Winthrop.”
Chapter Thirty-One
AUDREY
Over the last six weeks, Donovan and I hadn’t gone more than an hour without speaking, seeing, or touching each other. He would text me at work. He would leave notes for me to find. We’d laugh. Touch. Play. Make love. Constant communication. And now, it’s been over twenty-four hours since I left him in the doorway outside of his cabin without so much as a word since.
I spent most of that first morning crying in Gran’s cottage. My cottage. The space isn’t large by any means, but it’s perfect. It offers me solace and the space I need to breathe. Think. Process. Cry.
The windows let in the natural light, casting romantic little spotlights throughout the square panes. The rustic birch wood countertops in the quaint kitchen adds a warmth to the space. I imagine Gran making her pie crust from scratch, coating the well-worn apron that now hangs lifeless on the hook, dusted with flour. When I close my eyes and breathe deeply, I can still catch the scent of lemons and berries lingering in the air. Being here has felt like a warm hug from Gran, a comfort I needed after Donovan’s decision to go to the police.
Tia came over and held me while I cried. A lot. We baked cookies, painted each other’s nails, and talked about Donovan.Being in love with him only made the betrayal hurt more. Tia helped me understand his sole purpose after what happened with Kellan was to protect me. But protection requires trust. And that trust was broken.
All night I held the keys to Jules, twisting them around my fingers, contemplating getting in my car and going back to the cabin. Back in his arms. Backhome. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? My home? My clothes hang in the closet. My toothbrush sits in the cup by the sink. My recipes are tucked away in the kitchen drawers. Donovan’s cabin—our cabin—has been home the moment I came back to Oakwood Valley.
Tia stayed the night, lightly snoring on the futon in the small living space with the television on. I laid on my back all night, clutching those keys to my chest until I was too tired to think anymore. I missed Donovan.
He hasn’t tried to text or call. I asked for space, and he was giving it to me. I woke up this morning after a horrendous sleep with Tia brewing coffee on the stove. She had plans with her mom but asked if she wanted me to stay. If my mom were here, I’d spend the day with her, no hesitations. So, I told her to go and that I’d be okay.
Today is a big day for me—a day that I was supposed to share with Donovan. I hold the paperwork close to my chest as I stride down the sidewalk in town, just leaving the Oakwood Valley Planning Division office. The afternoon sun is warm as my face naturally tips up towards it, like a cat that always finds the rays through a window.
I got permission for the estate to be converted to a bed-and-breakfast and submitted all of my paperwork into the city. Now we wait for the review process and fingers crossed, approval. I’m one step closer to my dream. One step closer than I thought I’d ever be. A ghost of a smile appears on my face, but doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
Donovan should be here with me.
I push my sunglasses back up the brim of my nose, unlocking Jules and sliding into the front seat. Shoving the papers into the glove compartment, I grip the steering wheel and sit quietly, my thumbs picking over the frayed stitching with anxious energy.
“Today is a good day, Audrey. I’m proud of you,” I whisper to myself. My chin quivers and my jaw ticks as an unexpected wave of tears form behind my eyes. I’m tired of crying. I find my phone out of my purse and unlock it, pulling up Donovan’s name. My thumb trembles over the call and text buttons, darting back and forth between the two. I opt for text and type a message.
Audrey
Hey… I have some good news to share?
*delete*
Audrey
Hi… I miss you…
*delete*
Audrey
I’m not mad anymore. I love you. I need to see you now. I’m going crazy without you.
*delete*
“God damn it,” I mutter, tossing my phone back in my purse, massaging my temples with one hand.
To keep from sulking, I fire up the engine and back out of the parking spot with an itch to bake something. Maybe I’ll bake Donovan a pie. A mixed berry pie that says,“I love you, don’t give me space anymore.”
I hum to myself as the music blares from the speakers, making the familiar turns back to the cottage. My hair whips around my sunglasses when my eyes catch something in my rearview. Pushing my glasses over my head, I squint into the mirror.
What the hell?
