“I’m sorry, just ignore me,” Ally said quickly. “You don’t have to worry about any of that now.”
“Of course she doesn’t.” Lydia checked her watch. “Hey, when was the last time you ate anything?”
“I think I had some funnel cake late this morning,” Autumn croaked.
“You should eat. You must be starving.”
“I’m not hungry.” Autumn shook her head. “I think I’ll just go home and sleep. What time is dad’s plane home?” Her dad and Josh had beaten a hasty retreat to their hotel rooms at the Silver Sands Resort when it was clear Autumn didn’t want to talk to them. Mr. Carlsson was already on his way back to L.A.
“At lunchtime tomorrow.” Lydia shrugged. “I’m supposed to fly out in the evening, but I can change it.”
“No need to change anything,” Autumn told her. “I’ll be fine. And you’ve done enough for me already.”
“Yeah, because all of this is my fault.” Lydia gave her a sad smile.
Autumn smiled tenderly at her. “No it isn’t. We all know you can’t keep a secret. You’re an open book, and that’s part of who you are. It’s not as though it was some terrible thing, anyway. I got drunk, made a mistake, and then tried to fix it.” She shrugged.
“I love you,” Lydia said, her own eyes watering. “So much. And if Griff has any sense, he’ll realize how much he loves you, too, and come crawling on his knees to beg you to take him back.”
Autumn almost laughed at the image of Griff crawling anywhere. Only almost, though, because her heart was so bruised it hurt to do anything other than breathe.
It was time to go to bed and sleep, because she had no idea what else to do. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.
* * *
His head was pounding like somebody had taken a pick axe to it from the inside out and was determined to make a tunnel to the outside. It was only made worse by the shrill ring of his cell phone. A glance at the screen told him it was Jackson. He refused the call and tapped out a quick message that he was fine and he’d call him in the morning.
Jackson’s reply flashed in front of his eyes. Fine. Hah. Whatever you say, pal. But yeah, call me tomorrow.
After he’d left the pier, Griff had headed straight home, and moped the evening away on his couch, staring out of the window of his apartment at the ocean as though it held all the answers.
If he’d been sober, he’d have climbed into his truck and driven out of town. Far enough that the sound of the people on the pier didn’t pierce his ears wherever he went. But he wasn’t sober, and his friends were all busy with their families, so instead he’d stood in the shower until his skin puckered up, trying not to look at the pretty bag of toiletries Autumn had left propped on his bathroom counter.
Okay, so he looked. And in his inebriated state he might have unscrewed her shampoo and breathed it in, the smell of her hitting him viscerally as he thought about those words he’d said.
Cruel words.
Words that had made her eyes water and her lips tremble.
Words he could never take back if he wanted to.
And now here he was, nursing a hangover from day drinking and wondering how the hell things went wrong so quickly.
From the moment he’d seen Autumn’s father and ex, he’d felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. In their fancy, New York suits, their hair perfectly styled and gelled, they were the opposite to him. It made him feel lacking, and he hated that. As though he wasn’t good enough for her.
Yeah, well he’d proven that from the way he’d treated her.
Truth be told, he wasn’t good enough. He’d spent a childhood learning all about that. Not good enough to earn his father’s attention. Not good enough to feel his mother’s love. He was an irritation who occasionally came in useful.
He looked at himself in the bedroom mirror, leaning his brow on the cool glass, and hating the reflection staring back at him. His heart physically ached, like it was going through some kind of major crisis. If he wasn’t so damn healthy and fit, he’d be worried he was having a heart attack.
There was a loud banging at the door of his apartment, and his sore heart leapt a little. Was it her? Had she realized what a damn idiot he was? His breath caught in his throat as he raked his hair back from his face and strode out of the bedroom into the hallway. He didn’t bother to check the peephole, too desperate to get the door open.
“Lucas,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment when he saw his friend standing there. “Everything okay?”
“That’s what I’ve come to ask you. We’ve just finished at the pier and I realized I hadn’t seen you for hours. What’s up, man?”
Griff stood to the side so Lucas could walk in, before he closed the door behind him.