“This was my only home, and you took it away without a second thought. I never dreamed you were capable of hurting me that way.”
My chest deflates and caves in around my heart. I didn’t realize how badly I needed Hope’s forgiveness until this moment. I don’t think I can breathe without it. Without her. But what she just confessed… I’m not so sure that I deserve her forgiveness anymore.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out. “I had no idea.”
“You never cared enough to notice.”
Her accusation is terribly false, but I’m aware of my faults and just how hurtful my silence can feel to those close to me. “I cared more than you’ll ever know. I still do. I’m sorry I never knew how to show you that, and if I had known that you—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She swipes at the moisture forming in her eyes. “None of it matters anymore. I only told you so that you would stop trying to make something out of what never was. My reasons for being here are entirely different now, and I’m asking you to respect that so we can both continue moving forward in peace.”
No. There’s no moving forward, not when she’s headed down the opposite path from me. I can’t stop myself from reaching out and grabbing the loose fabric of her shirt. It feels stiff in my grasp, but I need the leverage her to bring her closer to me. It’s like this magnetic reaction I always seem to feel in her presence, only this time I’m not fighting the pull. I can’t lose her again, no matter what it takes. “You’re right. About everything.” I bend down to touch my forehead to hers. “I was cruel, and I forced you to leave when it was the last thing I wanted you to do. I’ve never wanted anyone to stay more.”
Her confused eyes flicker to mine. “Don’t say that.”
My hands slide from her shirt fabric to her waist, and I pull her closer. She doesn’t resist. “It’s true. I came to your room that night to tell you to stay. I was so angry when I found out you were interviewing for that job, but after talking to you, after holding you, after kissing you—”
“Stop.” Her voice is choked, flooded with pain, as she pushes away from me, revealing a crater of distance between us—a void so deep and dark, and I know it was me who created it. “Please, just stop.”
A mixture of anger, frustration, and deep sadness sweep through me like a tornado. “And what? Move on like we never existed?”
“Yes, because we never did.” She stands straighter, her chin lifted with determination. “And moving on is what you forced me to do last year, and I’ve built an entire life since because of it. So I’m sorry that you have regrets, Anderson Bexley, but I’m not here for you to make amends. It’s far, far too late for that.”
With that, she takes another step away before pivoting and heading straight back out the doors, into the woods, and back toward camp, while I crumble into a heap of sawdust and sadness.
Chapter Eight
HOPE
Back when Anderson and I first started getting to know each other years ago, after our initial awkward meetings, we formed a unique bond that always seemed to straddle some faint line between friendship, work, and something more.
I made it my goal to bring out his smile, and in return, he gave me hope. Whether he knew it or not, Anderson became my hero in a sense. And I hated seeing him sad. He’d put on a good front for guests and staff, but I watched him from afar, spying on his quiet moments when he didn’t realize anyone was watching.
It was difficult for me to understand that a man as handsome and successful as Anderson could appear so lonely. The least I could do for him was bring him joy. Which is why the first time I ever saw him struggle with a hard decision, I muttered two words that got his attention.
“No regrets.”
“What did you say?” Anderson turned to me, his frown deepening.
“I said, no regrets.” I pointed at the tropical fruit in his hands. “You’re eyeing that thing like you don’t know whether to stab it to death or sink your teeth into it. Whatever you choose, you better own it.”
He chuckled and dropped the knife in his other hand. “I’ve never eaten a mango before. Have you?”
His curiosity was so adorably attractive. It wasn’t the first time my heart beat for Anderson Bexley, but it was the first time he’d spoken so much as a word to me without Silver being there.
“I have and they’re delicious.”
He studied the yellow and pink skin of the fruit again. “No regrets,” he muttered, before picking up the knife and cutting out a section of juicy fruit. He popped it into his mouth, his beautiful golden eyes widening at the first burst of flavor.
My mouth watered as I watched his wet lips move together, dreaming of kissing them just so I could experience this first with him. I wanted to taste what he tasted. I wanted to lick his lips clean then kiss him like there was no tomorrow.
When his eyes landed back on mine, he grinned. “Definitely no regrets there.”
From then on, that became our secret mantra, our inside joke. Kind of like a secret handshake with an unspoken rule to never look back on our paths in life.
No regrets.
That was our oath.
Our promise.
But what I didn’t know was just how many regrets Anderson Bexley had… and that one day I would become one of them.
The next morning brings a heavy weight with it. I can feel the burden on my shoulders, pressing against my chest and in my aching bones. I couldn’t sleep. Not when my conversation with Anderson replayed like a broken record, round and round in my heart and mind. It should have felt good standing up for myself the way I had, but I feel haunted by feelings that seem to be resurfacing through all the cracks I left behind.
He may have hurt me deeply, but I can’t get over just how broken of a man he’s become. There’s still that part inside me that wants to ignore my own pain and fix his, but I’m not even sure where it all comes from anymore. I’ve always known that whatever rift he had with his family affects him deeply, but I’m starting to think there’s so much more to his story than he ever let on.
I pass through the staff room on my way to the office, noting the bright lights and full pot of coffee. Anderson has already made his way through here. I figure he’s long gone in an effort to avoid me at all costs after last night, but then I push my way into his office and find a giant bouquet of dark-red roses sitting on the desk.
My heart hammers against my ribs, and my pulse immediately rockets in surprise. Anderson always had a sweet and sensitive side, but never in all the time I’ve known him would I have expected something like this. My chest tightens, and emotion crawls up my throat. How in the hell am I supposed to stay mad at Anderson after this?
With a little growl and a giddy smile, I take a seat at my desk and get straight to work. I run back through the designs Dexter seemed to despise yesterday and make a few tweaks. When I’m satisfied, I begin to comb through the Camp Bexley website and social-media pages to map out a game plan.
Focus comes much easier today, despite my lack of sleep, and my coffee is an added booster to the fuel that pumps through me until well into the afternoon.