“So that’s it? You walk away?”
“I didn’t walk anywhere. I’m right here where she left me.” She had my number.
“Dexter, I’ve never seen you like this. I don’t want you to spend your life regretting that you didn’t do more.”
“What more can I do? If she doesn’t feel the same way about me, I can’t force her.”
Gabriel clapped me on the back. “You won tonight because you were determined and focused. Because you didn’t consider that you could ever fail. Am I right?”
“Hollie might be a prize but she’s not a competition.”
“You owe it to yourself to at least be clear to her about how you feel and what you want.”
She knew how I felt about her.
Didn’t she?
“We didn’t get a chance to talk about next steps. I mentioned her staying in London though. Offered to put her in contact with some industry people.”
“How very romantic,” Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows.
“But obviously part of the reason I did that was because I didn’t want her to leave.” She had to know. I’d been the one to suggest she move into my place so we could spend more time together. I’d been the one to broach the topic of her staying in London.
“You have to say the words. Like, make it very clear. Believe me when I tell you that lots can get lost in translation. You should have learned that from the situation with David.”
There was nothing I could do to get back all the years I’d lost with my brother. And I couldn’t bear the thought of even one night without Hollie—let alone the rest of my life.
If I’d bumped into Bridget a decade ago, I might be a different man. If I’d picked up the phone to David earlier, perhaps we would have reconciled years before now. I didn’t want Hollie to be another “if.”
Just as the wounds of David and Bridget that I’d been carrying for years had finally healed, Hollie leaving had ripped my heart apart. And instead of leaving this fresh wound to fester and bleed, I wanted to stop wasting time. I wanted to heal.
I wanted Hollie back in my life.
Thirty-One
Hollie
I abandoned my suitcase, peeled off my coat and collapsed on our second-hand, brown velour couch as if it was good to be home. It wasn’t.
“I don’t know what you did to Buck Newland, but thank God,” Autumn said, handing me a glass of water and coming to sit next to me.
My first stop on the way back from the airport hadn’t been our trailer, but Buck Newland’s—Greg’s dad. I hadn’t managed to get him to lower the rent, but I had managed to get us an extra month to find another place to live. Buck had known our family a long time, and he knew the burden of sorting out new places to live was going to fall on me. He’d taken pity on me.
“It’s still not long,” I said. “Did you find the listings?”
“You think he might still come around?” She handed me a newspaper and flipped to the rentals page.
“I doubt it. We’ve been here a long time and arguably we should be paying more rent.”
“Not triple the amount.”
“No. But Buck knows that apartments around here are few and far between. And he’s punishing us because . . .” Autumn already felt responsible for what had happened. I didn’t need to rub it in. “I need to focus on getting a rent deposit together for an apartment. We’ll have to live together and you and I will have to share a room until you leave.” The next few weeks I’d have to do a lot of extra shifts at the factory. It still wouldn’t be enough. All that extra work to go backward—back to living with my parents. At least Autumn would be able to leave Sunshine. “Mom is going to have to contribute from her work at Trader Bob’s and she’s going to have to keep working there if we’re going to have a hope of making what we need.” I was going to have to keep an eye on Mom, make sure she kept her job.
“You think you’re going to miss London?” Autumn asked.
That reminded me—I needed to unpack my carry-on and then the last traces of my trip to London would have left me. “It’s nice to be back to see you,” I said, avoiding the question.
“What about Sexy Dexter? Will you miss him?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s moved on. You saw him.” I desperately wanted to know if he’d won the competition. It was late in London. The winner would have been announced by now. There would probably be an article about it online tomorrow. Dexter was sure to win. I’d seen the designs from the other competitors and there was no comparison. Dexter had some kind of instinct or genetic programming that allowed him to see what would work and what would be too much. It was the elegance and simplicity of the Daniels & Co jewelry that I’d take as inspiration from my trip.