Chapter Twenty-Two
The next day was chaos. Organized chaos, but still chaos.
Plus, Zane hadn’t gotten even a wink of sleep the night before. Needless to say, he was grumpy and exhausted.
On the professional front, he couldn’t complain. With a huge line of customers waiting outside the store’s doors when it opened, they were already bringing in more revenue than they had initially anticipated. He knew Peter would be doing a happy dance back in London for exceeding their quota on the first day.
On the personal front, he was a bloody mess. Both Paxton sisters were supposed to be at the launch, but Bea had never shown up. Felicity had offered him a sympathetic smile when she walked through the doors that morning, claiming that Bea had to attend another client meeting but sent her apologies.
He just bet she did.
Then he’d seen it.
Her surprise to him.
The front window display—the one that had been empty for weeks—was quite possibly the most amazing gift anyone had ever given him.
The Evolution of Envision.
She’d called it that, and had apparently been making plans for the display this whole time, and he hadn’t even realized what she was doing. It was a collection of Envision Tech products, from their very first floppy disc to their most recent smartphone. He hadn’t seen most of those pieces in…years. Some not since he was a kid. Even the customers were impressed. There had been huddles of people surrounding it all day.
How the hell had she done all that?
He hadn’t believed his eyes when he’d first taken in the sight.
He had mentioned the idea in passing ages ago, the night they’d gotten ice cream together. The fact that she had obviously listened and taken the next step—something she knew would make him happy—gave him hope.
Hope for them.
For him, the gesture had brought clarity to the situation.
He had actually broken down, feeling guilty about their fight last night, and texted her.
Zane: Sorry for storming out like that. Can we talk?
He didn’t want her thinking he was done with them, because he sure as hell wasn’t. But all he got was a single, terse response.
Bea: I need time and space.
And not another word. Pathetically, he had even tried to call her. He wanted to thank her for what she did and let her know how much it meant to him. But she didn’t answer.
He felt physically ill.
He knew he should respect her wishes and give her the time and space she needed. But he didn’t want to give her enough time to talk herself out of all the reasons to be with him. He could see her doing that, if he left her alone for too long. Leaving important issues like this up in the air made him itch. At the end of the day after the store had finally closed, he approached Felicity, seeking answers, which made him look even more pathetic.
“What is going on with her?” he asked. “How can I make her talk to me?”
He needed to see Bea and assure himself that he hadn’t lost her forever.
“I don’t think anyone is going to make Bea do anything,” Felicity said softly. “She won’t talk to me, either. I’ve never really seen her like this before. It’s better to just leave her be until she’s worked through whatever it is on her own. She doesn’t like to feel crowded.”
“But what if that ends up being too late?” he asked, frustrated. “She could convince herself of anything if she sets her mind to it. I don’t want to stand idly by while she sinks further into denial. I have to do something.”
Felicity reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “Look, Zane. I don’t know what’s in my sister’s head right now. But I will tell you that I’ve seen a change in her since she met you. A big one.”
“Which probably scares her even more.”
Felicity nodded. “Probably. Bea is the most contrary person I know, which is why you have to let her work this out on her own. She’s lived without relationships most of her life, so it’s going to take a little while for her to get used to…something different.” Her warm expression hit him right in the gut. “But these past few months she’s been, well, happy. I know that much, whether she does or not.”
He pushed out a breath. “Doesn’t help me much if she doesn’t believe I can keep making her happy.”
“True. But Bea isn’t stupid. Maybe clueless sometimes, but not stupid. She’ll figure it out, and when she does, she’ll come to you. You just have to be patient.”
Because he was so good at that.
“Right,” he said, feeling broken. “I’ll do my best.”
He spent the rest of the night stewing over his thoughts, torturing himself with the worst-case scenario—Bea never talking to him again—trying to figure out whether or not he could handle that outcome.
Perhaps perspective was what he needed.
By late the next morning, he had phoned Peter and Denise, made various arrangements, and fought to block everything else from his mind.
If Bea wanted space, that’s what he would give her.
A whole ocean’s worth.