Unforgettable
Page 55
I can’t hold back the heartbreak anymore. I stumble outside onto the front steps, sink down, and start to weep. Sobs wrack my body, regret and hurt and blame gripping tight and refusing to let me go.
I wanted this so badly, and I came so close. But it’s all for nothing now.
I hear the sound of tires on gravel. I look up through my tears, and see Ash parking out front. He climbs out of the car, and the sight of him is too much to take.
“What do you want now?” I cry, feeling hollow inside. “Come to gloat?”
His expression changes. “Are you OK?” he calls, hurrying closer. He crouches beside me, looking into my eyes with real fear. “Is someone hurt? What happened? Talk to me, Noelle.”
“You mean you didn’t hear?” I gulp for air. My cheeks are wet, and my head aches from crying. I wave him inside. “Take a look for yourself.”
Ash steps past me, and heads into the house. A moment later, he reappears. “Shit, Noelle, I’m so sorry,” he says.
“Are you?” I ask blankly. Pain grips my chest, a terrible ache. For one terrible moment, I wish I hadn’t fought him on the hotel development. Maybe then I would still have him. Instead, I’ve lost the B&B and our relationship.
“I guess you win, after all,” I say, regret spiraling through me.
He frowns. “It’s not like that. I never wanted for you to—”
“What? Lose the B&B?” I counter, tired out. “Does it make a difference if it’s a flood, or you bulldozing the place? It’s still over for me.”
Ash doesn’t move. He stays, awkwardly loitering a few paces away from me. I realize that if he didn’t know about the flooding, there must be some other reason for his visit.
“What did you want?” I ask finally, lifting my head. It still hurts to look at him: backlit by the sun, his dark hair now in need of a cut, those eyes watching me. Warily.
Tender.
“I came to make another offer for the property,” Ash admits. At least he has the decency to look rueful, but after everything I’ve been through, nothing would shock me.
I let out a hollow laugh. “God, you just don’t quit, do you?”
“Never,” he says. “Look, maybe this is bad timing, or perhaps it’s the answer to your problems right now. Fixing this place up would cost you a fortune, but you could cut your losses right now. Just say the word. I’ll pay you three times the market rate—cash.”
Ash pulls a check from his shirt pocket. He places it down on the step beside me, and I can’t help glancing down.
What?
The zeroes make me dizzy for a moment. It’s more than I ever could imagine getting for the property, enough to clear my student loans and start fresh at anything I’d like.
“You could buy another place here in Beachwood Bay,” Ash says, as if he’s reading my mind. “I know how much you love the town, and just because the B&B is closed, it doesn’t mean you have to leave. You could open a bakery, maybe, or a little cafe—”
“Stop!” I cry, my tears welling up again. It’s too soon to hear him talk about other options, about the B&B being gone forever. I scramble to my feet, wiping at my damp cheeks. I know I must look like a mess right now—dirty T-shirt, wet shoes—but I don’t care. “Just stop!” I beg him again. “Can’t you listen to yourself, just for one minute? You’re so obsessed with this project, with the money, you don’t understand. Some things don’t have a price, they matter more than any payoff!”
“I’m trying to help you here.” Ash argues, looking stubborn.
“And I don’t want your help, not like this!” I reply, clenching my fists at my side. My nails press into my palms, and the pain helps me focus. Keeps me together as I try one final time to get through to him. “Have you even thought about what happens next, after you get your precious permits?” I demand. “You won’t stick around, not after the hotel is finished. It’s not your future you’re building, you’ve probably already got a buyer lined up for the property.”
I see a flash of something on Ash’s face. The truth.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I realize. “It’s what you do. You develop projects, then sell them off and move on. You don’t know what it’s like to build a future, to make a home somewhere. You’ve probably built a hundred buildings all over the world, but where’s home to you now, Ash? Where do you belong?”
“I have my family,” he replies, his jaw clenched, but I can see my words are hitting home in the depths of his dark gaze.
“And you come, visit for a couple of weeks, then leave again. On to the next project, the next city. Don’t you want more than that?” I ask, despairing. “Don’t you want to put down roots, and be a part of something? A community. Somewhere to belong. Because until you know what that’s like, you can’t possibly understand how I feel right now. This,” I say, grabbing the check and holding it up, “This can’t possibly compare to the years of love my grandmother put into this house, or all the dreams I had of making it my own.”
I rip the check in two and toss the pieces down. Ash flinches, like I’ve hit him.
“You don’t understand,” he says, looking conflicted. “You don’t know what it’s taken to build this company. It’s taken me years too! Years of work and sacrifice to get to where I am today. I didn’t have any help,” his voice rises with passion. “I did this all alone!”
I wanted this so badly, and I came so close. But it’s all for nothing now.
I hear the sound of tires on gravel. I look up through my tears, and see Ash parking out front. He climbs out of the car, and the sight of him is too much to take.
“What do you want now?” I cry, feeling hollow inside. “Come to gloat?”
His expression changes. “Are you OK?” he calls, hurrying closer. He crouches beside me, looking into my eyes with real fear. “Is someone hurt? What happened? Talk to me, Noelle.”
“You mean you didn’t hear?” I gulp for air. My cheeks are wet, and my head aches from crying. I wave him inside. “Take a look for yourself.”
Ash steps past me, and heads into the house. A moment later, he reappears. “Shit, Noelle, I’m so sorry,” he says.
“Are you?” I ask blankly. Pain grips my chest, a terrible ache. For one terrible moment, I wish I hadn’t fought him on the hotel development. Maybe then I would still have him. Instead, I’ve lost the B&B and our relationship.
“I guess you win, after all,” I say, regret spiraling through me.
He frowns. “It’s not like that. I never wanted for you to—”
“What? Lose the B&B?” I counter, tired out. “Does it make a difference if it’s a flood, or you bulldozing the place? It’s still over for me.”
Ash doesn’t move. He stays, awkwardly loitering a few paces away from me. I realize that if he didn’t know about the flooding, there must be some other reason for his visit.
“What did you want?” I ask finally, lifting my head. It still hurts to look at him: backlit by the sun, his dark hair now in need of a cut, those eyes watching me. Warily.
Tender.
“I came to make another offer for the property,” Ash admits. At least he has the decency to look rueful, but after everything I’ve been through, nothing would shock me.
I let out a hollow laugh. “God, you just don’t quit, do you?”
“Never,” he says. “Look, maybe this is bad timing, or perhaps it’s the answer to your problems right now. Fixing this place up would cost you a fortune, but you could cut your losses right now. Just say the word. I’ll pay you three times the market rate—cash.”
Ash pulls a check from his shirt pocket. He places it down on the step beside me, and I can’t help glancing down.
What?
The zeroes make me dizzy for a moment. It’s more than I ever could imagine getting for the property, enough to clear my student loans and start fresh at anything I’d like.
“You could buy another place here in Beachwood Bay,” Ash says, as if he’s reading my mind. “I know how much you love the town, and just because the B&B is closed, it doesn’t mean you have to leave. You could open a bakery, maybe, or a little cafe—”
“Stop!” I cry, my tears welling up again. It’s too soon to hear him talk about other options, about the B&B being gone forever. I scramble to my feet, wiping at my damp cheeks. I know I must look like a mess right now—dirty T-shirt, wet shoes—but I don’t care. “Just stop!” I beg him again. “Can’t you listen to yourself, just for one minute? You’re so obsessed with this project, with the money, you don’t understand. Some things don’t have a price, they matter more than any payoff!”
“I’m trying to help you here.” Ash argues, looking stubborn.
“And I don’t want your help, not like this!” I reply, clenching my fists at my side. My nails press into my palms, and the pain helps me focus. Keeps me together as I try one final time to get through to him. “Have you even thought about what happens next, after you get your precious permits?” I demand. “You won’t stick around, not after the hotel is finished. It’s not your future you’re building, you’ve probably already got a buyer lined up for the property.”
I see a flash of something on Ash’s face. The truth.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I realize. “It’s what you do. You develop projects, then sell them off and move on. You don’t know what it’s like to build a future, to make a home somewhere. You’ve probably built a hundred buildings all over the world, but where’s home to you now, Ash? Where do you belong?”
“I have my family,” he replies, his jaw clenched, but I can see my words are hitting home in the depths of his dark gaze.
“And you come, visit for a couple of weeks, then leave again. On to the next project, the next city. Don’t you want more than that?” I ask, despairing. “Don’t you want to put down roots, and be a part of something? A community. Somewhere to belong. Because until you know what that’s like, you can’t possibly understand how I feel right now. This,” I say, grabbing the check and holding it up, “This can’t possibly compare to the years of love my grandmother put into this house, or all the dreams I had of making it my own.”
I rip the check in two and toss the pieces down. Ash flinches, like I’ve hit him.
“You don’t understand,” he says, looking conflicted. “You don’t know what it’s taken to build this company. It’s taken me years too! Years of work and sacrifice to get to where I am today. I didn’t have any help,” his voice rises with passion. “I did this all alone!”
