Unforgettable
Page 56
“I know,” I say quietly. My heart aches for him again, so used to being closed off and remote, he’s forgotten it doesn’t have to be like this. “You raised your family, and built an empire too, and I admire you so much for that strength, I really do. It’s one of the things that made me fall—”
I stop before I can let the words tumble out. My pulse is racing, and suddenly, the air between us is thick with tension.
“Noelle…” Ash stares at me, looking shocked.
I gulp a lung full of air and try to get back on track. “What happens next?” I cover, ignoring my slip. “After this project, and the next one, and the one after that? You have the status now, the security,” I implore him. I don’t know why it matters so much to me to make him realize. I should hate him, I should want him gone, but instead, I’m filled with such sadness and regret when I think about him going through life like this, always so distanced and removed.
The Ash I know could have a life filled with joy and belonging—or he could keep these barriers built so high, nobody stands a chance of getting in.
And even if that person isn’t me, if our chance to be together is long behind us, I still can’t bear the thought of his goodness, his humor and grace going completely to waste.
“You could retire tomorrow, and nobody in your family would ever want for anything,” I continue, still fixed on the man standing in front of me. “They’re all grown up now. They have lives of their own, they’re building homes and families, a future right here in town. But what about you?” I ask desperately. “What happens when you wake up and realize you’re still alone? You think you want this development. You think it’s all that matters. But it’s just another job, Ash, you’re filling your life with work.
“When will it ever be enough?”
I finally run out words and come to a stop. My heart is pounding.
Silence.
Ash stands there, a few feet away from me. His expression is impossible to read now, but his eyes seem full of conflicted emotion: dark and stormy, a world away from this beautiful summer’s day.
Or maybe that’s just me imagining things; inventing a heart for the man who seems forged from steel. Because after a frozen moment, Ash jerks his head in a stiff nod and backs away.
“I won’t keep you,” he says blankly. “I can see you have a lot to do. Goodbye.”
There’s something about the way he says the word that sends a cold shiver through me.
“Ash?” I start, my voice quavering. “What are you—?”
But he’s already gone: getting back in his car and driving away. I watch him go, feeling numb. Totally worn out. Because some terrible intuition tells me I haven’t just lost the B&B now, but Ash too, forever.
He’s leaving for the last time, and he’s not ever coming back.
22.
Ash.
She’s crazy. It’s the only explanation for turning down my offer: the number on that check was more than she could ever have expected for the house, and she still tore it up and threw the pieces in my face.
Some things don’t have a price…
I try to block the memory of her impassioned words. She’s being irrational, over-emotional. She doesn’t see sense. I calculated that offer to compensate her for lost revenue of the business, and now, facing a ruined house and flood damage beyond what she could ever afford, she should be happier for the money now than ever before.
But some people can’t see business as the rational assessment of market value and services. They get attached, let emotions rule their decision-making instead of the cold, hard facts.
Like I would have, if I’d cancelled the hotel development project, just to keep Noelle in my life.
And in your bed.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, hating the uneasy feeling that has gripped my body for days now. Weeks. Ever since Noelle discovered my plans, and looked at me with such betrayal in her eyes; like I’d set out to destroy her dreams forever.
It wasn’t my intention, not one bit.
“It doesn’t matter what your intentions are, your actions are the only thing that last.”
My father’s voice suddenly echoes in my head. He always told me it mattered what we put into the world: words, or actions, they became real the minute they left our body, and had real consequences too. Whenever one of my siblings would protest, “I didn’t mean it!” He would scold them that it didn’t make a difference.
So what would he make of me now, hurting the one woman I’ve come to care for more than anyone in my life before?
The unease turns to guilt, icy and harsh. I try to ignore it, but by the time I make it back to Dex’s house, I’m in a foul mood. I have a dozen calls and emails from the New York office, wanting to know what the hell went wrong with our permits.
“Call a meeting with everyone for tomorrow morning,” I instruct my number two at the company, talking on my cell as I enter the house. “I’ll catch a flight out this afternoon, and update everyone in person.”
“You’re leaving?”
I turn. Tegan is standing in the living room, glaring at me.
“I’ll call you back,” I tell Emmett. “Have my assistant book my seat.”
I hang up. Tegan has her arms folded and a petulant scowl on her face: the same one she’s been sending me ever since things blew up with Noelle. “I have to get back to work,” I explain.
“You promised you’d be here all summer. ‘A family vacation,’ you told me.” Her voice is accusing. “What about all the wedding preparations?”
I stop before I can let the words tumble out. My pulse is racing, and suddenly, the air between us is thick with tension.
“Noelle…” Ash stares at me, looking shocked.
I gulp a lung full of air and try to get back on track. “What happens next?” I cover, ignoring my slip. “After this project, and the next one, and the one after that? You have the status now, the security,” I implore him. I don’t know why it matters so much to me to make him realize. I should hate him, I should want him gone, but instead, I’m filled with such sadness and regret when I think about him going through life like this, always so distanced and removed.
The Ash I know could have a life filled with joy and belonging—or he could keep these barriers built so high, nobody stands a chance of getting in.
And even if that person isn’t me, if our chance to be together is long behind us, I still can’t bear the thought of his goodness, his humor and grace going completely to waste.
“You could retire tomorrow, and nobody in your family would ever want for anything,” I continue, still fixed on the man standing in front of me. “They’re all grown up now. They have lives of their own, they’re building homes and families, a future right here in town. But what about you?” I ask desperately. “What happens when you wake up and realize you’re still alone? You think you want this development. You think it’s all that matters. But it’s just another job, Ash, you’re filling your life with work.
“When will it ever be enough?”
I finally run out words and come to a stop. My heart is pounding.
Silence.
Ash stands there, a few feet away from me. His expression is impossible to read now, but his eyes seem full of conflicted emotion: dark and stormy, a world away from this beautiful summer’s day.
Or maybe that’s just me imagining things; inventing a heart for the man who seems forged from steel. Because after a frozen moment, Ash jerks his head in a stiff nod and backs away.
“I won’t keep you,” he says blankly. “I can see you have a lot to do. Goodbye.”
There’s something about the way he says the word that sends a cold shiver through me.
“Ash?” I start, my voice quavering. “What are you—?”
But he’s already gone: getting back in his car and driving away. I watch him go, feeling numb. Totally worn out. Because some terrible intuition tells me I haven’t just lost the B&B now, but Ash too, forever.
He’s leaving for the last time, and he’s not ever coming back.
22.
Ash.
She’s crazy. It’s the only explanation for turning down my offer: the number on that check was more than she could ever have expected for the house, and she still tore it up and threw the pieces in my face.
Some things don’t have a price…
I try to block the memory of her impassioned words. She’s being irrational, over-emotional. She doesn’t see sense. I calculated that offer to compensate her for lost revenue of the business, and now, facing a ruined house and flood damage beyond what she could ever afford, she should be happier for the money now than ever before.
But some people can’t see business as the rational assessment of market value and services. They get attached, let emotions rule their decision-making instead of the cold, hard facts.
Like I would have, if I’d cancelled the hotel development project, just to keep Noelle in my life.
And in your bed.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, hating the uneasy feeling that has gripped my body for days now. Weeks. Ever since Noelle discovered my plans, and looked at me with such betrayal in her eyes; like I’d set out to destroy her dreams forever.
It wasn’t my intention, not one bit.
“It doesn’t matter what your intentions are, your actions are the only thing that last.”
My father’s voice suddenly echoes in my head. He always told me it mattered what we put into the world: words, or actions, they became real the minute they left our body, and had real consequences too. Whenever one of my siblings would protest, “I didn’t mean it!” He would scold them that it didn’t make a difference.
So what would he make of me now, hurting the one woman I’ve come to care for more than anyone in my life before?
The unease turns to guilt, icy and harsh. I try to ignore it, but by the time I make it back to Dex’s house, I’m in a foul mood. I have a dozen calls and emails from the New York office, wanting to know what the hell went wrong with our permits.
“Call a meeting with everyone for tomorrow morning,” I instruct my number two at the company, talking on my cell as I enter the house. “I’ll catch a flight out this afternoon, and update everyone in person.”
“You’re leaving?”
I turn. Tegan is standing in the living room, glaring at me.
“I’ll call you back,” I tell Emmett. “Have my assistant book my seat.”
I hang up. Tegan has her arms folded and a petulant scowl on her face: the same one she’s been sending me ever since things blew up with Noelle. “I have to get back to work,” I explain.
“You promised you’d be here all summer. ‘A family vacation,’ you told me.” Her voice is accusing. “What about all the wedding preparations?”
