A Month-ish Later
AS I PULLED TWO mugs from the cabinet I pressed brew on the coffee maker. The second cup was for Holliday, who was staying with me at present. It had been close to two weeks since she’d walked out of the place she shared with Ronan. I felt horrible for them both. It seemed like the two of them clicked on all cylinders in their whirlwind romance bubble. But now the bubble had burst, and she was miserable. The tabloids were already printing rumors of their alleged break-up.
This summer was off to a somber start. I was in desperate need for some romance in my own life. No woman should be desperate for romance, should they? A few weeks ago, I was sure that my life was headed in that direction with Matthew Barber. My eyes trained on the drip of the dark liquid as I thought back to the evening he held me in his strong arms. That night had been on my mind a lot.
When Matthew excused himself to take a call from some darlin’, a familiar sense of dread wound through me and I’d decided to skip out on dessert. It was a kneejerk reaction. They say that the best defense is a good offense. But, I say screw that. After my last breakup, my defense has served me well. And while it kept me from scoring, it also kept me from getting crushed.
My last relationship was a bit crowded—there were three people involved. I was the “other woman” and I had no idea that he was married. For a year and a half, I had not one clue.
With Matthew, anyone could have been on the other end of that phone, but my wounds were still fresh even after all this time. Admittedly, I got spooked. Once the coffee finished brewing, I grabbed the sugar and creamer and then placed them on the tray.
I climbed up the backstairs, passing through the loft where my mother’s white grand piano sat and found Holliday on the balcony staring out at the ocean. Storm clouds gathered in the distance.
As I stepped onto the balcony the cool air whipped over my skin. “Ready for some coffee?” I asked, placing the tray on the table.
“Yes, coffee is my life blood,” she replied, tucking her dark hair behind her ears.
I took a seat on the lounger and tossed a blanket over my legs. “Are you sure that you’re going to be okay here by yourself?”
Nodding, she stirred the contents of her mug. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Her finger traced the rim of her cup. “Charlotte pulled a few dresses for you and they’re going to be delivered to your hotel suite tonight. You and your stylist should have no problem finding something perfect for your interview tomorrow, Tinley.”
I sucked down a swig of my coffee. “I cannot thank you and Charlotte enough for helping me with a wardrobe.”
“Speaking of thanks, I need to thank you.”
I waved her off. “You’ve already thanked me, plenty, for letting you stay here—we’re family.”
Holliday was the younger sister I never had, and I hated seeing her in such pain. During my childhood, my parents had always talked about growing their family, but with Mom’s play selling out night after night and Dad traveling for business nearly every other week it wasn’t possible. Then, when I was seventeen, my mom died. Even though I was well aware of the fact that having siblings was not happening, it was more than solidified with her death.
“I’m so glad that you’re here,” she said, squeezing my hand. “God, I missed you. You’re not allowed to be gone so long anymore.”
I smiled. She was referring to this past winter, when I’d spent a few months in Texas and then California. It was nice to get away, but it was hardly a vacation. I spent a majority of the time working, trying to clear my head.
“I missed you too,” I said, blowing the steam away from my mug.
“Ugh, why did I have to fall for Ronan Connolly?” she asked, placing her mug back onto the tray. “I should have visited you in Texas, and roped myself a cowboy or two like you did. Love is a tricky business.”
“You don’t mean that, but the cowboys are pretty great. Seriously though, you’re always welcome in my home.”
When Holliday moved to New York, my Aunt Maggie introduced the two of us and we became fast friends. Like me, Holliday wasn’t into the Manhattan club scene, she preferred solitude and for good reason. Her trauma and the fear kept her a prisoner in her own life.
When she felt up to it, the two of us would spend weekends here in The Harbour. In the summers, we’d attend a few events, which were relatively low-key, but it helped her recovery process. I felt responsible for her safety, and desperately wanted to help her gain some sense of normalcy.
“It’s not just that, our talk before I left for Malibu . . . you gave me a lot to think about where Ronan and I are concerned. I miss him so much that it hurts.” She swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “He’s texted and left voicemails, the pain in his voice . . . it’s tearing me up inside.”
I focused on the ocean waves crashing into each other and then disappearing until another set appeared as I listened to Holliday. The way she was feeling was familiar, I had been there. The only difference was that when my ex, Aiden, and I were done there were no calls or texts. It was just . . . over. Memories were all that remained. Occasionally, those memories were right there at the surface.
There were times that I’d see Aiden’s reflection in the mirror. When I’d brush my teeth, I’d remember his muscular body wrapped in a towel and his dark hair slicked back, wet from the shower. Other times when his face appeared, I imagined what it was like to slap that scruffy cheek for hurting me.
Holliday dragged a hand through her hair. “And, after all that, I want to understand why he did what he did but I’m also afraid of the answers.”
There was nothing I could say to Holliday that I hadn’t already said. She needed to figure this out on her own. I knew that she was scared, it was no secret that fear was her worst enemy. Deep down, I believed that she knew what she wanted. The answer was so obviously painted on her face, especially when she said his name. Me on the other hand, I only hoped I’d find someone to love and love me as deeply as Holliday loved Ronan.