“So that’s it? You’re not even going to fight for me?”
Nate closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He could feel the beginnings of a headache, slowly throbbing its way up to maximum. “It’s been a hell of a day, Stephanie,” he said, his voice tight. “And tomorrow’s probably going to be even worse. I’m just asking you to give me some space to sort things out.”
“Space?” Her voice rose up an octave. “What kind of space? Are you breaking up with me?”
He slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath in. His immediate reaction was to tell her no, of course he wasn’t breaking up with her. She was looking at him expectantly, waiting for that exact response.
But for some reason he couldn’t give it.
Though the living room was a large expanse of open space – exactly the way he liked it – right now he felt as though all the walls were closing in on him. His mind was a whirl of Riley’s latest problems and Stephanie’s demands, not to mention everything that was going on with his business. There were complications everywhere and with each day that passed they seemed to be getting worse.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. Out of the two of them, he wasn’t sure who was more surprised by his response. But then a sense of relief washed over him – a feeling he hadn’t experienced in the longest of times. When he’d mentioned space he’d been thinking of a few days, a week at the most. But right now, Stephanie’s suggestion sounded like the only viable option. He’d spent months trying to please everybody and in the end nobody was happy.
Nate caught her eye; trying to ignore the hurt he could see sparkling there. This situation was doing none of them any good – and it was time they all faced it. Yes, he was a bastard, and yes she was going to hate him, but right now he had to concentrate on his daughter, not his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, Stephanie,” he said, his voice low but full of certainty. “I think it’s time we agreed to bring our relationship to an end.”
* * *
Ally Sutton’s mouth fell open as she stared at her phone. Slowly, she brought her gaze up to where her two friends, Ember and Brooke, were staring at her with equally gaping mouths.
“He’s sold the café?” Ember asked. “Seriously?”
“I can’t believe you just hung up on him,” Brooke said, reaching for Ally’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “Good for you, honey.”
Ally blinked, though there were no tears in her eyes. Just disappointment that only got worse when she saw on the phone screen that her father was trying to call her again. She quickly rejected the call and set her phone back down on the table.
“You’re not going to answer?” Ember asked.
Ally shook her head. “If I talk to him I’m going to end up saying something I shouldn’t.” She sighed, dropping her head into her hands as the screen went dark.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Brooke agreed. “I wouldn’t have anything nice to say to him, either. Hopefully he’ll get the message and give you some space.”
Just as Brooke finished speaking, the screen lit up for a third time.
Ember pulled Ally’s phone toward her and keyed in the code. They all knew each other’s codes by heart; they had since they were at school. Her friends had her back. They always did. She trusted them with her life and her phone.
It began to buzz again. “It’s still your dad,” Ember told her.
“Don’t answer it,” Ally said quickly. “Not yet.”
“I’m not. I’m just going to put him on block. His calls won’t register and his voicemails will go to a separate folder. That way you can listen to them when you’re ready, rather than when you’re angry.” Ember ran her fingers across the screen and looked up. “There. Give yourself a few days. That way you might still have a relationship at the end of it.” She passed Ally ba
ck the phone.
Ally took it from her, sliding it into her purse. Even without the threat of her dad constantly lighting it up, she still didn’t want to look at it.
She didn’t want to think about anything at all.
She glanced around the café that she’d known for her whole life. Her throat tightened as she took in the blue cushioned seats and the scratched metal tables. How many times had she sat at them with a coloring book and her favorite strawberry milkshake as a kid? Then, as she grew older the coloring book was replaced by her cellphone, and the milkshake by a coffee.
She’d pretty much grown up in this place. And now she was the manager, which meant not only was her childhood being sold off to the highest bidder, but her job was too.
“I guess I should polish up my résumé,” she said, giving her best friends a grim smile. Some of her blonde hair had escaped the topknot she’d tied it in, and she tucked the stray strands behind her ear.
“You’re losing your job too?” Brooke’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh honey…”