Page 153 of Bottle Shock
“I talked to Dad,” Ethan interrupts, “and he’s going to briefly come out of retirement and help out. He’s been itching to do it anyway. This just gives him an excuse.”
“So,” Elyse says, placing both hands on my desk and leaning in. “What are you so afraid of?”
My throat goes tight.
“That she’ll realize she wants to stay. And that my boring life isn’t worth giving all that up for.”
Elyse’s expression loses some of its edge. “Gavin. She already chose you. You guys are literally married. She’s not going to leave you.”
Ethan steps forward too. “You’re not going there to prove anything. You’re going because you miss her. And I’m sure she misses you. Lily will get a long vacation. An adventure in the city with museums and parks and other shit cities have. She’ll love it. It’ll be fun for her.”
I wipe a hand down my face.
I can’t believe I’m seriously considering taking advice from the two people who usually need mine.
“So?” Elyse asks. “You going to keep rotting? Or go get your girl?”
I let out a breath that feels like I’ve been holding it for weeks.
“Okay,” I say. “You guys win. I’ll go.”
Ethan’s shoulders drop like this entire ordeal exhausted him.
Elyse claps once. “Yay! Pack your bags. You’ve got a plane to catch.”
I laugh despite myself. “Lily’s going to lose her mind.”
“Good,” Ethan says. “She deserves to see her dad happy.”
CHAPTER 42
Scottie
A LITTLE ADVENTURE NEVER HURT
I’m being haunted by men in man buns.
Not literally, but it sure as hell feels like it.
Every time I spot one—even from a mile away, even in my peripheral vision—my heart jumps. Just for a second. Just long enough to fuck me up.
Because for that one beat, I think it’s Gavin.
And it never is.
I’m two weeks into my eight-week contract and so far I love it. The schedule is intense, the cast is great, and best of all no one is a perverted asshole.
But as much as I love it, my heart aches for who I left behind.
I don’t regret coming. I needed to do this—for me, for the work I put in to get here, to prove that I could step away from the stage not because I was forced to but because I chose to.
But God, I miss him.
Like aching-in-my-bones miss him.
We talk all the time, but the past few days he’s been quieter, more distant. And I can’t help but feel that maybe he’s losing interest in me. It’s easy to move on from someonewho’s not around, and being two thousand miles away, I may as well be in another country—a different planet. The time difference is tough too, especially now that his work schedule changed for harvest.
But I can’t dwell on that now. It’s almost showtime.
