“Nobody talked about it? No gossip?”
“I’m sure there was behind the scenes. But your father owned the resort, Linc. No one was going to speak up and risk their jobs.”
“Too scared of repercussions.”
“Exactly.”
“It makes a lot of sense, when I think about it. He was using her, and I’m sure, in some fashion she was using him, but I think, somehow, it changed for her. She was certainly passionate about his ‘memory’ this morning. I’m sure in order to dissuade her, he used me and my presence as an excuse for years. No wonder she hates me.”
“Does it matter?” Sunny questioned. “Her feelings, I mean?”
“Not really. It explains a lot, though.” I pulled the plate toward me, the tempting pile of biscuits too much to ignore anymore. “I am grateful all the business dealings I have in this town are hidden in numbered companies. If she knew I had anything to do with them, I’d have roadblocks going up left, right, and center.”
“I think you’re right.”
I bit into a biscuit, the texture light and airy. I chewed in appreciation and swallowed. “Where is Abby?”
She chuckled. “Downstairs with Shannon. Preparing the dough for some of the cookies for tomorrow. We often make it the night before and then bake as needed. We’ll be busy this weekend.”
“Tourist season starts.”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea she liked to bake. She certainly never shared anything at the office.”
“I think maybe she keeps a few things to herself, Linc. Some private parts of her life that are only for her.”
I finished the biscuit, wiping my fingers on a napkin. “But she shared with you.”
Sunny looked past my shoulder. “You see Abby as strong, capable, and a force to be reckoned with. Your right-hand. I think she associates baking with a—” she paused as if searching for the right word “—softer side of herself. Something she doesn’t show many people—including you. She hates to be vulnerable.”
“You are amazing,” I murmured. “You see all that in such a short time. You barely know her.”
“I see myself in her, Linc. I’ve had to hide the softer side of myself away so I can be the business owner, the boss, I need to be. I had to find the tougher side to survive everything.”
“Everything, including my leaving you.”
She met my gaze. “Yes.”
“You know now I didn’t want to leave you, Sunny.”
“Yes. I know. I just need…”
“A little time. I understand.”
“You do?”
I lifted her hand, sliding it into mine, staring down at the way my palm encased hers. Covering her small hand entirely. Holding it safely, the way her heart held mine.
“I knew the truth for ten years, Sunny. You had no idea of the depths of treachery my father had sunk to. You really thought I had abandoned you.”
“I did.” She paused, looking at our joined hands. “Especially after I confronted him.”
“What?” I gasped. “You went and saw him?”
“Yes.”
I held her hand to my chest. “Did he hurt you? Tell me he didn’t touch you. I swear to god, I will find him in hell and drag him back up here and kill him all over again if he touched you,” I raged.
Her eyes widened in response to my rant. “No,” she assured me. “He didn’t have to. He used his words to hurt.”
“Tell me everything,” I demanded.
“I wanted to confront him. After I got back from camp, I went to the house. He came to the door, looking amused. He told me to go away—as if I were a fly he was shooing off his arm. He said he had no interest in talking to one of Linc’s castoffs.”
My grip on her hand tightened. “There were no castoffs. There was only ever you.”
“I know.”
She frowned, losing herself in the story.
“He told me to get off his property and not to come back. ‘Forget you ever knew my son,’ he instructed. ‘I guarantee you he’s already forgotten about you.’”
I shook my head. “I would never forget about you.”
She smiled sadly. “I refused, demanding that he give me your contact information. He had me follow him to his den. He picked up his phone and sent you a text. Then he showed me your reply.”
“He never sent me anything. I had no cell phone.”
“I know that now, but I didn’t at the time.”
“What did it say?”
“Linc,” she quoted. “Sunny is here and wants to talk to you. Your reply was—No, not interested. Tell her to move on. That part of my life is over. I’m not coming back.”
She swallowed. “I was sure it was a trick. I grabbed the phone and texted you myself. I begged you to call me, talk to me. Your reply said it all. Leave me alone, Sunny. You were a great pastime, but my life is heading in another direction. One you are not a part of. One you will never be a part of again.”
She wiped away a tear that ran down her cheek. “I dropped the phone, and your father picked it up. He looked at the screen with a smirk and told me that ‘should do it.’ Then he told me to get out, leave him alone, or he would cause so much trouble for my family, life wouldn’t be worth living. He was careful to state he was sure I didn’t want to jeopardize my mother’s job or the welfare of my sisters.”
“He threatened you.”
She nodded. “I ran to the door, and he followed me, laughing at my pain. He grabbed my arm before I could leave and told me that girls like me were a dime a dozen. He knew it and you knew it. He made some other scathing remarks about me and my family and pushed me out the door. I fell on the porch, sobbing, and he kept laughing. It was the cruelest sound I ever heard. Then he slammed the door shut. I wept all the way home. I couldn’t reconcile the boy I loved with the words I read on the screen.”
“Sunny,” I begged. “Baby, it wasn’t me.”
“I know that now. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have known he’d never let me touch the cell phone if it was really you.” She shrugged. “But I wasn’t, and he knew that.”
I stood and paced the room. “But can you get past that? All the mistrust and pain?” I spun on my heel, facing her. “You are the opposite of everything he said. Priceless. I thought of you every damn day. Sometimes it was the only way I could make it through the days. Jesus, Sunny, seeing you again is like a miracle.” I dropped to my knees in front of her. “I never stopped believing in us—loving you. But it was different for you. You thought I betrayed you. You thought I used you. Can you get past that? Can you reconcile the truth you know now with the truth you believed all those years?”
Her eyes searched mine, her dark gaze soft. “Yes, Linc. I know the truth now. I’m coming to terms with it.” She cupped my face. “You have to as well.”
“I hate him more than ever. I hate him for the years he stole from us. The pain he caused you. All the what-ifs he stole.”
“What-ifs?”
I leaned into her touch. “I imagined us married, maybe a baby or two by now, Sunny,” I said quietly. “Building a life together as a family. He stole all that from us.”