I laughed uncomfortably. “All of it?”
She gave me a gentle smile that reminded me so much of Emme my heart ached. “She mentioned you felt you needed space once you two had grown close.”
Cringe. “Yeah, I said that to her, but it wasn’t the truth. That was me trying to push her away.”
“Because…”
“Because I panicked, I guess. I’ve avoided relationships my entire life because they never end happily, and they always end.”
“Many do, but not all,” she countered. “Relationships are a lot of work. They take a lot of compromise, trust, forgiveness, and communication.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know if I’m good at those things.”
“Would you be willing to try? For Emme?”
“I’d do anything for Emme. But what if I can’t give her what she wants? I have a daughter now, and she has to be my first priority. That’s a huge change in my life and I’m scared to make another one. What if—?”
“Don’t do that,” Stella warned, setting her cup down. “No scary ‘what ifs.’ Stick to the present. So, you’re a father—that’s a big deal. Being a single parent will necessarily take up a lot of your time and energy, and not every woman would be okay coming in second all the time. I get that. But.” She paused. “I think Emme understands.”
“But is that fair to her? To ask her to be so understanding? She wants to get married eventually. What if I never do?”
She shrugged. “Again, that’s a ‘what if’ you’re using to shield yourself from intimacy.”
I was beginning to see what Emme meant when she said it could be kind of annoying to have a sister who was also a therapist. But I also knew I needed to hear this. “Tell me what to do,” I said. “I thought I’d feel better once she was gone and I could reclaim as much of my old life and my old self as possible, but I was wrong. I don’t want to go back to who I was. It doesn’t feel right anymore. Nothing feels right without her.” I stopped to take a breath. “And now she’s taken that job, and I’m worried I can’t get her back. That I have nothing to offer her other than myself. Nothing to promise her.”
Stella thought for a while before answering. “First, I think you can get her back. I’m not saying it won’t take some work, because Emme is really hurt. She’s determined to make changes in her life and the way she approaches relationships that will help her avoid having her heart broken again.” She shrugged. “She’s pretty much got your face in a red circle with a line through it.”
I nodded glumly. “I’m sure she does.”
“But.” Stella leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes lighting up. “Emme loves a big romantic gesture. I think you could get her to give you another chance.”
“A big romantic gesture?” I blinked. “I’ve got no idea what that could be.”
“Me neither. And it has to come from you. Something to show her that you love and accept her for who she is and you want her in your life. I don’t think she’s looking for promises beyond that, Nate. And I don’t think you have to offer her anything but your willingness to be open to the journey with her.”
“I am.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” She picked up her coffee and sipped.
“You know, I looked at some houses this week,” I went on, surprising myself. “And I was in this one, and it was like I could see it all so clearly—me and Emme and a family. I got chills.”
“You’re giving me chills.” She smiled. “So it’s all right there in front of you.”
“You’re right. It is.” I picked up my coffee and took a drink, although it was only lukewarm now. My mind was spinning—how was I going to make it all happen? There were so many pieces that needed to fall in place. How was I going to get her to listen to me?
“She’s visiting Mia this weekend,” said Stella. “She left about an hour ago and will be gone until Sunday.” Then she must have seen how crushed I was that more days had to pass before I could set eyes on Emme again because she laughed gently. “That is a very sad face.”
“I feel sad,” I admitted. “I don’t want to wait. I want to fix this.”
She tilted her head and shrugged. “You could go up there and surprise her.”
I sat up taller in my seat. “You think?”
“Sure. Why not?”
The gears in my head went into overdrive. “Stella, do you happen to know where she’s staying?”
“At the winery. Our cousin Mia’s place.”
“Could I ask you for contact information for Mia?”
She thought for a second, then pulled her phone from her purse. “Sure, why not? Mia loves a good romantic gesture, too.”
“Thanks.” I put Mia’s cell number into my phone, still not exactly sure how I was going to win Emme back, but positive I was going to try.
Tonight.
First, I called my boss and asked for the day off tomorrow, offering to work overtime next week to make up for lost billable hours. She said it wouldn’t be a problem.
Next, I called Rachel and told her I’d be coming from a different direction tomorrow and might need a slight adjustment on the pickup time, depending on traffic.
Finally, I called Mia Fournier.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mia?”
“Yes. Can I help you?”
“I hope so. This is Nate Pearson. I’m a friend of your cousin Emme?”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Pearson?”
I detected a note of cool formality in her voice, and I didn’t blame her. She’d probably heard what a first class asshole I’d been to her cousin.
“For now, just hear me out.” I signaled, veered onto the on ramp to I-75, and hit the gas.
“I’m about to sit down to dinner with my family. Will this take long?”
“I hope not. Has Emme arrived yet?”
“No. I’m expecting her around nine.”
I checked the clock on my dash. It was six-thirty, which meant the timeline would be tight if I wanted to pull this off. But it could be done.
I decided not to waste any time beating around the bush. Mia was a businesswoman with a family and would appreciate my getting straight to the point.
“I’m in love with Emme, but I blew it. I need your help to win her back.”
“All right, Nate Pearson, you’ve got my attention. Speak.”
Twenty-One
Emme
Traffic was awful on I-75, and the drive to Abelard Vineyards was taking longer than usual.
I was cranky and tired. I’d been that way pretty much since Nate and I had split up. I couldn’t relax enough at night to fall asleep, and even though I tried to grab the occasional nap before nighttime events, I wasn’t always successful. Coco had suggested I take a few days off, maybe head up north and visit with Mia, get some rest. She was confident Amy could handle the events we had scheduled, and even volunteered to be on call if Amy needed help. I’d visited her earlier this week and she said she was desperate to get out of her house.
But she was happy, too. Who wouldn’t be in her shoes? Her new baby girl was healthy and beautiful, her husband was over the moon to dote on her, and her mother-in-law was on hand to help with her boys. When I left their house, I recited my affirmation all the way home in an effort not to let envy eat away at my happiness for her. It wasn’t Coco’s fault I was still hopelessly in love with Nate.
He was never far from my mind. Over and over again, I went over our final encounter, wondering if I’d handled it wrong. Should I have kicked him out? Demanded more answers? Treated him civilly? Told him the truth—that I wasn’t over him and had only taken the job up north to put some distance between us?
But I had no answers. I didn’t even tell my sisters about the post-breakup fuck—I was too embarrassed. Somehow I knew neither one of them would have given in. They’d have been stronger, able to resist his kiss and his touch and his cheap shots at my conscience. It was obvious he was miserable
, and I was glad. He deserved it.
“I am deserving of a supportive, loving, awesome relationship,” I said. I believed my affirmation. I really did.
But I was weak for him, and I feared I always would be. Distance would help.
Just after nine, I pulled around the circular gravel drive in front of a beautiful French-style farmhouse. Mia and Lucas came out the front door and greeted me warmly. Lucas kissed both of my cheeks and grabbed the little suitcase from my trunk, and Mia hugged me extra hard.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said, taking my hand. “I have you staying in one of the best little guest cottages on the property. Lucas turned up the heat earlier, so it should be nice and cozy for you.”
“Sounds good.” It was definitely chillier up here than it had been in Detroit. A cozy little cottage sounded perfect. It would be even better with someone to share it with.
I shoved that thought from my mind.
“I’ll take your bag over now,” Lucas offered.
I smiled at the handsome man, who spoke with a slight French accent. His scruffy jaw and lean good looks reminded me of Nate. “Thanks.”
“Are you hungry?” Mia asked, leading me inside the house.
“Actually, yes.”
“Perfect. I’ll get you some supper and we’ll have some wine. Come sit down in the kitchen. The kids are already in bed, so we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”
I followed her to the big airy kitchen off the back of the house, which was modeled after the kitchen at Lucas’s family’s chateau in the south of France, where they’d gotten married. It was beautiful, of course, lots of natural stone in neutral shades, dark timber beams across the ceiling, walls soft slate gray, white-painted cupboards with open shelves, and Mia’s signature pop of color in vibrant pink flowers in a glass vase on the counter. I chose a stool at the marble counter and watched as Mia bustled around the kitchen, warming up something in a big pot on the stove that smelled absolutely delicious. She looked adorable—jeans cuffed a little higher than her ankle, maroon velvet flats, black long-sleeved shirt with a gray infinity scarf around her neck, hair twisted up into a messy bun. And she looked happy.
“So we haven’t had much of a chance to talk since you texted me,” Mia said, handing me a folded linen napkin. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“You mean why I accepted the job?”
“Sure, you can start there.”
“I’m looking to make a change.” I unfolded the napkin and placed it on my lap.
She nodded, pulling down three wine glasses. “Okay.”
“And I really like what I do, but a new scene will be a good creative challenge, I think.”
“Sure.”
“And things with Nate sort of fell apart,” I admitted, smoothing the napkin over my jeans.
“I wondered.” Mia pulled a bottle of wine from a fridge beneath the counter as Lucas came in through the back hall.
“Yeah.” I took a shaky breath, hoping I could talk about this without crying. “It happened kind of suddenly.”
“I’ll do that, babe.” Lucas took the corkscrew from Mia and opened the bottle.
She gave him a quick pat on the butt before going over to the stove to stir whatever was in the pot. “What exactly happened?” she asked me.
“It’s hard to say, exactly. We had what I thought was this awesome thing going for a couple weeks, and then boom—it just exploded.”
“It exploded?” she asked, rising on tiptoe to pull a big shallow bowl from an upper shelf. “Or he blew it up?”
Lucas set a glass of wine down in front of me. “You know, Mia, this could be kind of a private thing,” he said to his wife.
She turned around and gave him a disapproving look. “Girls like to talk about this stuff. Go away if you don’t want to hear about it.”
He held up two hands. “I’m fine if Emme is.”
“I’m fine.” I sighed. “I mean, I’m fine talking about it. I’m still sort of reeling over the split. To answer your question, yes—he blew it up. I think we got too close for his comfort.”
Lucas leaned back against the counter, wine glass in hand, and nodded. “Sounds like a guy move.”
Mia ladled whatever she’d warmed up into the bowl, and grabbed a spoon from a drawer, shutting the drawer with her hip. “Honey, will you slice that baguette on the counter, please?” she asked Lucas.
“Of course.”
“So you think he sabotaged the whole thing on purpose?” She set the bowl and spoon down in front of me. “Here. Beef bourguignon cures everything.”
I inhaled the fragrant, steaming stew and my mouth watered. “You might be right. This smells incredible.”
Mia smiled and lifted her glass. “Bon appétit.”
I picked up my spoon and dug in, confiding in them in more detail—how careful I thought I’d been, how wonderful it was to see Nate growing to love his baby daughter, how seeing the changes in him had affected me, how learning about his family history and the visit to his childhood home had revealed so much about his emotional makeup. They listened thoughtfully, commented sympathetically, poured more wine.
“But in the end, either he hadn’t changed at all and I saw only what I wanted to see, or he got freaked out and decided to end things before they went any further.” I mopped the bottom of my bowl with a piece of bread.
“Hmm.” Mia lifted her wine glass to her lips. By now, she was sitting on the stool next to me.
“My guess is he freaked out,” said Lucas. “Just like Mia did.”
I looked at my cousin in surprise.
“What?” Mia shrieked, sitting up taller. “I did not freak out. It was you who was all, Marriage is futile and I never want kids.” She imitated his deep voice and exaggerated his French accent.
He laughed. “But right after we met, when we were still in France at the end of your vacation, you wanted to call the whole thing off. I wanted to see where it might go.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mia’s spine curled a little. “I always forget that part.” She recovered a little spunk. “But I only did that because I thought ultimately there was no hope for us—I wanted a husband and family by age thirty and I was already twenty-eight—”
“Twenty-seven,” Lucas interrupted, a rakish grin on his face.
Mia glared at him. “Fine, I was twenty-seven,” she corrected, “but I knew what I wanted and it was exactly what you didn’t want. I didn’t see how we were going to make it work, and I didn’t want to get hurt. I was half in love with you.”
“Oh, you were totally in love with me.” He drank, his eyes dancing over the rim of his glass.
“How did you?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Make it work, I mean.”
“I taught her to live in the moment,” said Lucas. “To stop obsessing over her silly life deadlines.”
“And I taught him to be open to the idea of lifetime commitment,” said Mia, shooting him a venomous look. “I showed him how amazing it would be to be married to me.”
“And she was right. It is.” He came over and kissed his wife’s lips, leaving a smile there. “Bottom line—it was trust, patience, and compromise.” Lucas pulled another bottle from the wine fridge. “Should I open it?”
“What time is it?” asked Mia.
Lucas checked his watch. “A few minutes after ten.”
“Yes, open it.” They exchanged a look I didn’t quite understand.
I was totally into another glass of wine, but I didn’t want to keep them up. “If you guys need to go to bed, I’m fine doing that, too,” I said, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “I know it’s late, and the kids will be up early.”
“No!” Mia turned to face me with a smile so bright I almost thought it was fake. “No, I want another glass too. And we’re not tired.”
“Not at all,” Lucas said, pulling the cork from the second bottle.
I wasn’t sure I believed them, but it’s hard for me to say no to wine an
d good conversation, and I loved being around Mia and Lucas. Like Coco and Nick, they were so at ease with each other. They’d found a groove. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, there was still a fair amount of teasing and eye-rolling and poking fun, but underneath was this incredible chemistry, unspoken love and support. It was palpable in the air between them. They admired each other and desired each other. In the wake of my disappointment, it was comforting to know that it existed.
We moved to the opposite end of the room and settled on the large, comfortable furniture in front of the fireplace. Mia and Lucas sat next to each other on the couch and I curled up in a chair. I asked about the wine we were drinking, and Lucas chatted enthusiastically about the success he’d had with certain grapes up here that few other winemakers were trying. In the middle of that conversation, Lucas got a text and excused himself to make a quick phone call. When he came back ten minutes later, Mia was talking about the events she had planned for the winery this summer, and how the new guest cottages were almost completely booked from May to September. But I noticed the way she kept her eye on the clock above the fireplace.
Eventually, she yawned and stretched theatrically. “Well, I have to admit, I’m beat.”
“Me too,” I said. We’d finished the second bottle of wine some time ago, and I was pleasantly drowsy. I looked at my phone. “Wow, it’s after eleven already.”
“I’ll walk you to the cottage,” Mia said as she rose to her feet. “Let me grab a sweater.”
I stood up and brought my wine glass to the kitchen, setting it on the counter. Lucas began turning off the lights. “Thanks so much for dinner and the wine,” I said to him. “Everything was delicious.”
“You’re always welcome,” he said.
Mia appeared wearing a gray cardigan. “Ready?” She tugged on my hand.
“Yes. Night, Lucas,” I called.
He looked over at us and smiled. “Night.”
Only You Page 24
