Chapter Thirty-two
Gemma was miserable.
She threw herself into her work, hoping that staying busy would help ease her heartache.
It didn't.
At the end of every shift, she'd fall into bed, but no matter how exhausted she was, sleep kept slipping through her fingers. And when she did sleep, she dreamed of Saxon, his hand outstretched toward her, but always out of reach.
She thought about calling him, but what was the point? Their separation was too new for her to do anything but cause more pain. Reopen the wound. Maybe one day they could be friends, but for now, cold turkey was the only real option.
Eventually she'd get over him, she just wished she knew how long eventually would take. Living like this—trudging through each day, wishing it would be over faster so she didn't have to endure the emptiness in her chest—was going to kill her. Already, her work was suffering, lacking the usual creativity and dramatic flair that had earned her a position as executive chef.
If she kept up like this, she was going to be fired. And then what?
Her parents would enjoy another round of I-told-you-so and she would have to step down several rungs on her career ladder to prove herself all over again. Her parents would be all over her to go back to school and get a "real" education. They'd tell her how she was wasting her time as a chef, and she'd tell them that she loved her work and was happy.
Only now when she said it, it would be a lie.
She hadn't been happy since she'd left Whisper Lake, and she was afraid that no job would ever fill the void Saxon had left.
At least things were going well for Aunt Beth. Gemma called her every day before leaving for work, and she seemed so happy. So fulfilled.
In need of something to lift her spirits, Gemma dialed her aunt on her way to work as she braved the thickening traffic leading toward downtown St. Louis.
"Hello, sweetheart," Aunt Beth's cheerful voice chimed through the speakers.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Wonderful! I'm getting around without the cane most of the time now. Nothing like falling in love to dull life's pains."
Gemma smiled, letting her aunt's joy lift her spirits. "How is Cotton?"
"Absolutely perfect. He's helping me at the bakery now, so we can spend more time together." Aunt Beth lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "He's no use in the kitchen, but the customers love him almost as much as I do. We had a line out the door last weekend."
"That's amazing. I'm so happy for you."
"I owe it all to you, honey. I can't thank you enough for all your hard work in putting this place back together. I'd say it's as good as new, but it's even better. Those lazy Susans you had Saxon install are a lifesaver."
At the mention of his name, Gemma's heart gave a hard, painful squeeze. Her throat tightened, and she was struck mute for a moment.
"Have you spoken to him?" Aunt Beth asked, sounding subdued for the first time.
"No. I thought it was best to cut things off completely. He must feel the same, because he's made no move to reach out to me, either." And because she couldn't keep herself from asking, "How is he?"
"Skinny. Exhausted. He installed my picture window yesterday and I barely recognized him. He's usually so…happy."
Gemma didn't think it was possible, but her heart broke a little more as a few remaining slivers fell away. Tears welled in her eyes, and she had to blink fast to clear them so she could see to drive.
She tried to speak. Couldn't. Cleared her throat and tried again. The words were hoarse and faint. "I miss him, too."
"Oh, honey. I hate that you're suffering. I wish you two could work things out somehow."
"It's impossible. We both have lives, jobs. We can't just let go of everything we've worked so hard to earn for a fling."
Silence filled the line for so long that Gemma thought she'd lost the connection. "Was it just a fling? Or was it more? I've known you all your life, Gemma. I've seen what infatuation looks like on you. This was…different. Deeper. Wasn't it?"
Gemma couldn't admit that to herself and still hope to retain her sanity. "It doesn't matter. It's over."
Aunt Beth's voice was sad now, filled with missed opportunities and broken dreams. "Love is the only thing that matters in this world. When you've lived as long as I have, you are wise enough to know that. I only hope that you listen to me before it's too late."
"I hear you, but sometimes life gets in the way of doing what we want."
"And what do you want?"
"To own my own restaurant, to make a name for myself so that my parents can finally be proud."
Aunt Beth sighed. "Your mother was born with her head up her ass. I've talked to her until my lips were blue and she still won't look up from her research long enough to see what a wonderful woman you've become. Your father is even worse. It would break my heart for you to give up the important things in life to please people who will never see your true worth—not the way I do. Not the way Saxon does."
Something deep in Gemma's chest shifted, broke, reshaped itself. The pain was brutal, but when it faded, she knew the truth: She could be the most famous chef on the planet with TV shows, cookbooks, and lines of fans a mile long. Her parents still wouldn't be proud. They would never see the value in the line of work she'd chosen, and she could never be happy doing what would please them. She was busting her ass for a fantasy—one that would never happen.
It was time for her to start living her life for herself, not for them. The days of trying to appease them were over.
The moment she accepted that truth, everything changed. It was like a switch had been flipped and a whole new world of possibilities was suddenly revealed.
She floored the accelerator, excited to go to work for the first time since her return home.
Gemma had a business proposition to make to her boss.