Page 60 of Holiday at Home
“That’s not why I’m doing those things,” I say simply, and then I’m up and out of my chair, pacing the kitchen because this is an idea so big, so powerful, so real and true that I can’t sit still in its presence.
“On the flight here, I knew asking Violet to sign over her intellectual rights was horrible, but I told myself any number of lies to get over it. Then, the first couple days I was here, I told myself the timing was wrong. She was too sad. Or it was too awkward.” I scrub my hand over my face. “But I think, mostly, it wasn’t the timing that was wrong. It was me. That idea was ours. If it comes to life, we should bring it to life together.”
Robbie bobs his head. “So far, I’m not actually hearing a problem. So far, it sounds like you still understand right from wrong. What’s driving you so crazy?”
And just like that, I’m pacing again, hands gesturing, mind churning.
“The problem is there’s a part of me—a growing part, a getting-louder-every-day part—that’s ready to walk away from everything I’ve built in New York. My apartment. My job. I wantto wipe my hands of all of it and move back to Stillwater Bay to be with Violet.”
I pause and Robbie cocks his head, brows lifted, lips parted. By the looks of it, he saw this coming about as much as I did.
“But,” I continue, “I don’t know if she wants me. Or if she could ever trust me again. Only a crazy person would leave a job like mine after a few weeks with a woman who might not want him. Right?”
I plop back into my chair, hands out, heart open, but Robbie’s up and moving, the caffeine finally kicking in. I wait for a hard dose of wisdom, for the military grade compassion he promised, but instead he stops at the plate of sugar cookies on the counter and picks up one of my misshapen blobs.
“What in the world is this thing?” he asks.
A reminder of one of the best nights of my life,my mind supplies.
“It appears to be a cookie,” I say instead.
“Right, but… whatisit?” Robbie turns the bulbous treat over in his hands. “I’ve been wondering for days.”
“What it is, is tasty. It’s never about the outside…” I trail off, freezing mid-sentence. “Holy crap. There it is.”
“There what is?” Robbie asks, taking a bite and nodding his approval as he chews.
“It’s never about the outside.” I drag my fingers into my hair as the full weight of the statement sinks in. “Hell, even my dad said something like that the first day I got here.”
Robbie stares as if waiting for more, then finally says, “From the looks of it, you think you’re making sense, but you’re really not.”
“My life in New York is all about the exterior stuff. Money. Pretense. Success for the sake of appearances. Here—with Violet—it’s about the inside. Simple days with big joy. It’s about loveand happiness and doing what feelsright.” I press a hand to my chest. “Right here.”
“You got all that from a cookie?”
I grin faintly. “Apparently.”
He shakes his head. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”
“I do have it bad,” I say quietly. “I never stopped having it bad. But if Violet only wants this to be a little fun between friends like Nora said, then does it matter what I?—”
“Dude. Are you dumb?”
I arch a brow. “Is this that special Robbie brand of compassion you warned me about?”
“Violet’s never stopped loving you.Never.Of course shesaysshe wants to keep it simple. Otherwise, she’s setting herself up for heartbreak, and she’s had enough of that, don’t you think?”
I nod slowly. “Walking away from my life is a big step.”
“It is.”
I meet his eyes. “But I think that’s the step I want to take.”
26
Violet
Christmas Eve. Home to countless beautiful childhood memories and one terrible night.
