The rest of the day was spent playing with Emma’s new toys—Grace sat on the floor with her niece next to her as they dressed dolls and built Lego sets—and although she couldn’t stop thinking about Jaime and wished he could be here, she also was glad to be with her family now. She’d missed them. They drove her crazy most days, but they were still her family.
But when it began snowing later that evening, Grace stood at the window and felt tears fall. She didn’t know. She just knew something was going to happen.
Emma came up to her. Her blue eyes gazed up at her. She didn’t say a thing, but just leaned against Grace, holding her hand. Grace placed a hand on her hair, stroking her blonde locks, and she let the tears fall just as the snow outside fell across the land.
Jaime called her to say that they needed to talk. The following morning, she met him at his house, the snow still falling. She stamped her boots and brushed off the snow from her coat as she came inside, shivering.
He came up and took her coat before handing her a mug of hot cider. “Freshly made,” he said.
She inhaled the scent of cinnamon and apples and sighed.
Once sitting, she drank her cider and waited, knowing that Jaime needed to get whatever it was he needed to get out—out.. As the silence lengthened, anxiety started filling her. She remembered her tears from last night, and it had seemed like a premonition of some sort.
She sat her mug down on the coffee table.
“I’m leaving,” he said, not looking at her.
The words didn’t register. “Leaving…?”
“Leaving Heron’s Landing.”
She stared at him, her eyes widening. She wasn’t surprised, and yet, hearing the words was another thing entirely. “For how long?” she whispered.
He finally caught her gaze. His face was sad, resigned, but also stubborn. “For good.”
“But what about your job? The vineyard?” What about me?
“I don’t have a job anymore. Do you think Adam wants to keep me on?” Jaime ran his fingers through his hair. “No, I can’t stay here. I can’t stay in a place that thought I was capable of stealing from my friend.”
Her lower lip quivered, but she bit it to stem the tide of tears. She was tired of crying, tired of feeling like her heart was breaking. “So that’s it? It’s just over?”
Getting up, he kneeled in front of her, taking her hands. “We both knew this was temporary,” he said softly. “It could never have worked, Graciela. Not with everything that’s happened.”
“What does that even mean?” She yanked her hands away. “I was just some kind of fling for you?”
He shook his head. “No, but you’re young…you don’t know what you want.”
She laughed an incredulous laugh. “Because you know exactly what I want? You have a lot of gall. I’m not some little kid, Jaime.”
“I never said you were.”
“Does it matter to you that I’m in love with you?” As his face crumpled, she added, “There’s nothing for you here? I’m here.”
He took her hands again. “Graciela, I care about you. Deeply. But I can’t stay. I know you understand this. And as far as being in love with me… You’ll move on. You told me yourself you had a crush on me. What’s to say this isn’t just a crush, too?”
She couldn’t speak. She just stared at him, confused and angry and heartbroken.
“You’re just going to run away then. You’re going to abandon everything you’ve built here because of one man. Isn’t this what Eric would’ve wanted? For you to be run out of town like some criminal?”
Jaime didn’t say anything, but he wouldn’t look at her, either.
Standing up, she began putting her boots back on. But her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t get them over her heel, and she swore.
Jaime got up and steadied her. “Grace, I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She whirled on him. “You’re sorry? You’re sorry that you just threw my love for you back in my face?” She got her coat, holding it up in front of her like a shield. “Maybe it was a crush in the beginning, when I first met you. When you walked me home in the rain underneath your umbrella, and you got wet while I stayed dry.” She looked at him, and all she could see was his clenched jaw and his vacant eyes. “Do you remember that?”
He looked away. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
She opened the door, not even bothering to put on her coat, a sob breaking forth. He grabbed her arm and said in a low voice, “I’m sorry, Grace. Just know that I’m sorry.”
Yanking her arm away, she opened the door and raced out into the snow, her heart cut to ribbons. She drove home and collapsed on her bed, where she cried until she couldn’t cry one more tear.
It’s over, was the only thought in her head. It’s over, and I’ll probably never see him again.
Chapter Twenty
December changed into January and then February, and Jaime had been gone from Heron’s Landing for two months. Two long months, where he’d stayed in St. Louis with his parents to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life.
He’d shown up at his parents’ place a few days before New Year’s. His mother had looked at him for just a second before she ushered him inside and plied him with more food than any one person could eat, while his father stood over them, his face creased in concern. Jaime had told them the entire story—they’d already known about Eric getting arrested—and he’d mentioned Grace more than once. His parents had looked at each other, but said nothing.
His father Fernando sat next to him on the floral couch Jaime’s mother had bought over twenty years ago, and said in Spanish, “You can stay with us as long as you need, Jaimito.”
If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would’ve cried in relief.
The charges were still very much in the back of his mind, though. After hiring the best lawyer he could afford, Jaime had tried to live his life as normally as possible while he let the officials do their work. His lawyer was gathering evidence while also using Eric’s attempted murder as an obvious piece of the puzzle. No man who doesn’t have something to hide would do something like that, his lawyer argued. The police—headed by Sheriff Jennings—weren’t quite as interested in admitting they’d been wrong, and thus, things were moving slowly and without much progress that Jaime could see.
Jaime had begun applying for jobs all over the country as an executive chef. From San Francisco to New York City to Miami, he’d sent in applications and resumes and CVs and cover letters and although he’d gotten a few bites, at the moment, he still had no firm offer. He could only hope that changed, as he hated living off of his parents’ charity any longer than necessary.
Of course, all of this was a mere distraction from what truly kept him awake at night: Grace. Grace, and the way she’d looked at him when he’d said she wasn’t really in love with him but that it was just a crush. With how she asked him about walking with her in the rain, and his response. I don’t remember, he’d said.
He’d lied about that, too.