“What’s this?” I ask, drying my face then peeking inside to find a very large check.
“It’s the insurance payout from the accident,” Geoffrey says. “Ryder knew you’d need to buy something new, replace your phone and . . .”
“Money! He sent you to give me money?”
“He sent me to watch out for you, and told me if I saw you, to give you the envelope.” Geoffrey looks up into the night sky. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but Maggie is worried.”
“Maggie? About what?”
“Mr. Merrick. He’s not sleeping, barely eating. He’s locked himself away in his recording studio. Won’t really talk to anyone. His brother keeps calling, but Ryder won’t talk to him. He’s in a bad way.”
“I can’t help him,” I say with a shrug. “He doesn’t love me.”
“He does. He’s just full of guilt.”
Another tear rolls down my cheek. “And I’m just empty.”
*
Addison must not be getting much sleep, either, because I was barely back inside my little guest cottage when she knocked, having seen my exchange with Geoffrey in front of the house. Of course, she wants to know what all that was about. Shaking my head, I place the check down for her to see.
“He wants to take care of you,” Addison says, looking down at the massive check on the table.
“Don’t defend him!” I snap.
“I’m not,” she says.
“I was leaving him. The day of the accident. I walked out on him.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I need to move on, start over. Find a job.”
“Mom and Dad mentioned something to me about an adjunct teaching position,” Addison says. “They talk to you about it?”
“Yeah, wouldn’t be until next semester, after the new year,” I say.
“So?”
“That’s a couple months. I don’t want to keep mooching off you and Owen.”
“Don’t,” she says, pushing the check toward me. “Get your cast off in a few weeks. Then buy a car and go. Get a little apartment. Settle in and never think about Ryder Merrick again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Kailey
Sometimes all you need is a plan. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. A task to focus on helps me get out of bed every day, helps me forget, even for a few moments, that I should be almost done with my second trimester.
Sitting on my bed in my cottage, I’m reminded that pretty much the whole time I was with Ryder, I was on bed rest. I knew there was a risk that something could happen to the baby, but I never considered I’d lose my baby to anything other than placenta previa. The things we worry about are seldom the things that come to pass.
My due date was January 27. I’m sure that day is not going to be an easy one, but I’ll be halfway across the country when it arrives. My parents have been college professors my whole life, and they pulled some strings to get me an interview as an adjunct at a small college in Tennessee.
And I got the job.
If all goes well, perhaps I can make it permanent, and join the tenure track like they did. It’s not what I envisioned when I got my master’s in communicative disorders, but nothing about my life is what I imagined.
As soon as I get my cast off in a little over a week, I’m moving. I’m not waiting. There’s nothing to wait for.
I know my family is concerned about me being far away with no support, but I’m looking forward to it—new place, new challenges, new people, new life. Still, their sympathetic looks aren’t helping. They mean well, but every time I look at them, I’m reminded what they lost, too.
It wasn’t just me that lost this baby. Addison lost a nephew. My parents lost a grandson. Tinsley lost a cousin.
I never wanted to take money from Ryder, so I don’t feel great about using the money from the Jaguar to fund my new start. But the hell with it. Doing the right thing is what got me in this mess, so for once in my life, I’m going to be selfish, take the money, and run.
Yes, I’m running.
My pain is coming with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I don’t want to forget this pain. If I do, then I could forget who caused it. I don’t blame Ryder for losing the baby. As much as he’d like to, not even he can control California traffic conditions. A driver ran a stoplight. Were they distracted by the paparazzi? Maybe? He died, so we’ll never know for sure. I guess Ryder can blame himself for the paps tailing me, but I don’t blame him. There’s a lot of heartbreak I could blame him for, but my crash isn’t one of them. It was an accident.
Him not loving me wasn’t an accident. It’s who he is. He’s not capable. So I won’t forget this pain.
Most people want to forget pain—numbing it with drugs, alcohol, pills. They wish for time to pass so the pain will cease. Time heals all wounds, right? Hardly.
I need this pain. It’s a reminder of my mistake—Ryder. Remembering this pain is going to keep me from making the same mistake again. I fell in love with an unavailable man. I can’t do that again. I won’t. So I won’t forget the pain—the pain only Ryder Merrick can inflict.
I did that once before.
Ryder broke my heart twice. I won’t give him a third chance.
My cottage door flies open, and I nearly jump from my bed. Addison’s got Tinsley on her hip, but it’s Maggie that’s got my attention. “I told you that my sister is not taking visitors,” Addison says to her, before throwing me a look and telling me, “I saw her walking through the yard and tried to stop her.”
“A little trespassing isn’t going to deter Maggie from doing Ryder’s bidding,” I say.
“Ryder doesn’t know I’m here,” Maggie says.
I step closer to her, wanting to stand toe-to-toe, even though she’s taller than me. “It’s fine, Addison,” I tell my sister. She hesitates before walking out, but I give her a little nod. Nothing can hurt me more than I already am.
“I was wondering when you’d show up. Let me guess, you’re here to get me to sign a non-disclosure? Protect Ryder? Make sure I don’t talk?”
“I suggested that months ago,” she says, and I want to slap the smirk right off her face. “Ryder wouldn’t allow it. He trusts you, Kailey.”
Hearing that makes my heart sting. He trusts me, but doesn’t love me.
Maggie looks around my small place, a few boxes already packed. “Ryder still has all your stuff at the house,” she says. “He refuses to get rid of any of it, or send it to you.”
“I don’t want it,” I say.
“I think he thinks you’ll be back,” she says.
“I won’t. I’ve got a job and am moving,” I say without revealing any details, knowing anything I say will probably get back to Ryder. Still, I know it wouldn’t be hard for Ryder to find out on his own.
“Ryder won’t tell me what happened, exactly. The day of the accident,” she says. “I know everything about him, and he won’t tell me this.”
“I told him I love him, and he didn’t feel the same,” I say, proud that I managed not to shed a tear. “So I left.”