Seagrove Secrets (Love Along Hwy 30A)

by Melissa Chambers

  She let out a heavy breath. “With the right person, maybe so.”

  He looked at her with curiosity. “You’ve never wanted kids before now?”

  “I’ve been putting it off, I guess. I didn’t want to have kids with the wrong guy and end up a single or divorced mom. There’s a lot of that where I grew up. I’m kind of picky, I guess. Once I get married, I want it to be for good, but I don’t want to get stuck in a marriage that I can’t get out of.” She thought about her mother defending her father’s drunken behavior all the time. “It’s more important for me to find the right guy than have kids, I guess.”

  He stared at her. “Makes sense.”

  She stared back at him, so many questions for him, but none she could ask.

  “So the last guy, you knew he was the wrong guy?” he asked.

  She exhaled, knowing he deserved some answers. He’d earned them. “I thought he might be the right one at first, before he started drinking.”

  “How long were things good between you two?” he asked.

  “A long time. I thought he was a good guy. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I wouldn’t have dated him if I didn’t think he was.”

  “I know that,” he said, and his certainty of her gave her comfort.

  She pressed her hand down on the mattress, running it back and forth. “Things were good until he started drinking, and somewhere down the line, I lost control.”

  He put his hand on her hip.

  “Looking back, I know the exact point where I should have left. There were hints here and there, jealous comments that I tried to blow off as a phase. But the point I knew it was bad was the week Seanna came for a visit in March.”

  “I was there with her. We were at the Opryland Hotel for a convention.”

  Shayla met his gaze, thinking of Chase just down the interstate from her when Brian was losing it that night.

  “What happened that night?” he asked.

  She frowned and looked back down at the bed. “He lost it. He wanted to come with us, but I wanted to see her alone. He thought it was so I could talk about him, which wasn’t the case. I think by then I knew that I wasn’t going to stay with him, and I knew Seanna and I would primarily be talking about stuff going on back home because that was our connection. I didn’t want him being a part of it.”

  “Did he show up anyway?” he asked.

  “No, nothing like that. But when I got home, he’d been drinking whiskey, plenty of it. He was so mean when he drank that stuff. I tried to go to bed and he wanted to talk, but he wasn’t being kind. He kept making jokes that weren’t funny.” She left out the part about him wanting to have sex, and her going along with it to keep the peace. “He apologized that next day, and things were okay for the next few weeks, until one night when we were out with some of his friends and a guy complimented my jacket.” She huffed a laugh. “Such an idiotic nothing comment, but it meant everything.”

  He squeezed her hip, letting her know he was hearing her, which endeared her to him.

  “When we got home, he did a couple of shots. I was unloading the dishwasher, and he kept making jabs at me. Did I think Andy was hot? Did I want to go home with Andy and not him? Did I have a clue how many girls he could go home with if he wanted to?”

  “Do you think he ever cheated on you?”

  She chuckled at the thought. “God no. I wished. I would have loved for him to have gotten with another girl…at that point at least, before I knew it was going to get worse.”

  “Did he lay hands on you that night?”

  She reached her hand under his arm and threaded her fingers through his. “His violence was progressive. That night he grabbed me by my arms so hard that I had bruises the next day. He knelt on the floor in front of me, begging me to forgive him, apologizing, telling me he’d never drink a drop again.” She huffed a laugh. “I’d walked in on my dad doing that same thing to my mom once. She’d forgiven him, and he still hasn’t drank since. I was home from college at the time. I guess I thought that was how it worked.” She shook her head at herself. “Such a silly girl.”

  He pushed her hair from her face with his free hand, wordlessly, but she felt his support, his nonjudgement.

  “Things were better for a while,” she said, “but then I started working with Scott on a project at work. Brian couldn’t stand it, every night it was something different. He was drinking again, unapologetically. He started accusing me of cheating, which was ridiculous because I was always with him. I wouldn’t engage with the drama, and that drove him crazy, so finally one night, he grabbed me and shoved me against a mirror we had hanging in the foyer. I was dumbfounded. He kept saying I was making him lose his mind. He couldn’t take me to the hospital because he was too drunk, and I was afraid to drive myself, so I texted Scott to come take me. I didn’t want any of my girlfriends asking questions. I hate that I had to involve him, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  She met his gaze, his face having turned white. She smiled at him to let him know she was okay now.

  “I’m sure Scott’s glad you called him,” he said.

  “It was just all so fucked up, Chase. I can’t believe I’m telling this story about myself. It feels like someone else’s story.”

  “Well it’s not you, not anymore. You just got in over your head. What happened with your head, by the way?” He glanced at the top of her head like he was looking for a scar.

  “It was fine. I had a mild concussion. It could have been so much worse.”

  “Where did you go when you left the hospital?”

  “To Scott’s house. I wanted to come home, but I needed to give notice at my work. I didn’t want to leave the company on bad terms since I thought I’d be needing them for a reference. I had no idea Bo was going to meet Maya and leave town at that point. Hell, he had no idea then. He hadn’t even met her yet.”

  “So you stayed with Scott?” he asked, clearly wanting to know more about that.

  She smiled. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No, of course not. Well, a little. Look I apologized to him earlier tonight. I don’t want you to think I’m a jealous guy. I’ve never been one, and that’s the God’s honest truth.” He ran his knuckle down her belly. “I’ve never felt like this before either.”

  Her heartbeat soared. She didn’t have any reason to think he was bullshitting her, but she couldn’t go crazy here, not before she was sure about him, sure he wasn’t going to get bored in a few weeks and need to move on.

  “Is there anything else you want me to know about what happened this past spring with you? Anything I need to know?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes. She’d come so far with him. She really didn’t want to tell him the full story, because she felt like such an idiot, such a naïve, silly girl, but she also didn’t want to talk about it again. It felt like now or never to her.

  “I did something really stupid.” She opened her eyes and kissed his knuckles, then let his hand go. “Brian had had a week to cool down. I’d seen him at work and he’d been apologetic. He’d heard I’d quit and he just wanted to talk. He seemed so calm and genuine. He said he’d been sober since that night, and he wanted to apologize for all the jealousy, for any blame he tried to put on me. He said all the right things. So I agreed to talk…meet him at a restaurant. The night went well and he even was fine for me to go back to Scott’s house. It was like I had the guy back who I’d fallen for in the beginning. I started to wonder if I’d dreamed the past couple of months.”

  “You took him back,” he said, as if helping her with the words.

  “My boss offered me a large bonus if I would work out the end of the project I’d started with Scott. It was a new piece of software I’d helped develop and the woman I’d worked with on it had left the company, so without my expertise on that piece of software, they’d be set back quite a bit. So I agreed to stay till the project was over. I had lunch with Brian a couple of times, and his demeanor remained
the same, contrite, apologetic, not at all jealous, never asked me a single thing about Scott. So I went home one night. For about a week, it felt like everything was falling back into place. I was even regretful I’d quit my job. I was considering asking if they’d take me back. I knew they were having a hard time finding someone with the skills needed who was a good fit.” She shook her head in memory, feeling every bit the idiot she’d felt that night. “I had a late night at the office. We were up against the clock. We stayed there till like ten-thirty. The second I opened the door, I knew I needed to leave. But I didn’t. I stood right there in that doorway, when all I had to do was turn around and run back to the car.”

  She closed her eyes tightly, images flashing through her brain.

  “Shayla, you don’t have to—”

  “He stood up, and when he did he bumped into our glass coffee table which I’m sure hurt his leg, and that rage from the pain went straight to his head and he started in. Where had I been? I’d been fucking that asshole, he’d known I was a whore. Why wouldn’t I fuck him? I hadn’t for months.” Her throat threatened to close. “He said he’d been patient enough.”

  Chase took in a sharp inhale. She closed her eyes, rubbing them with her forefinger and thumb. “It’s so hard to justify why I went back, why I didn’t run out. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “You don’t have to, ever,” he said.

  She met his gaze. “I’m not a weak person.”

  “I’ve never once thought you were.”

  “I’m not stupid either,” she said, her voice cracking.

  Chase shook his head, staring into her eyes. “You’re not.”

  She closed her eyes, done with the telling. Chase wrapped his arm around her while she buried her head into his chest. She didn’t ever want to come out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Chase walked into the kitchen and found Felicity and Scott sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee. “Morning,” Felicity said.

  “Morning,” Chase said, feeling a little walk of shame, still wearing his clothes from last night.

  Felicity put her finger to lips. “Wait, I’m confused. I thought your bedroom was upstairs.”

  Chase met Scott’s gaze. He didn’t look too broken up. “I’ve been swimming,” Chase said. “I just came in to check on you two knuckleheads.” He glanced at the white bags on the table. “Did you get breakfast?”

  “Oh, yes,” Felicity said. “Pastries from Seaside Sweets. And just in time. They’re closing at noon today for the wedding.”

  He looked at the stove. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven,” Scott said.

  “Damn,” Chase said. “I’ve got to get my ass in the shower.”

  “Dirty?” Felicity asked.

  He shot her a look. “Takes one to know one.”

  She grinned, sipping coffee.

  He took the stairs two at a time and shut himself in his room. The picture of Sam still sat there on his bed, face up. He picked up the frame and stared at his little boy, his heart breaking. Moving on with another woman, another family, another life had always seemed like a betrayal. He’d been living in limbo for six years, but somehow feeling like he was honoring his son by doing so.

  “I love you, buddy,” he said, and then kissed the frame. He thought about Shayla and all she’d shared with him last night, how hard it must have been for her to utter those words to him. It was time for him to go all-in with her. Bo would be married today, and every weekend couldn’t be dedicated to him. He’d get over it as soon as he saw Chase’s devotion to his sister…as soon as he saw that Chase wasn’t going anywhere, ever again. But there was one thing he needed to do first.

  He pulled up Rachel’s contact in his phone. He had no idea if she’d changed her number or not. He didn’t see a reason why she would have. It wasn’t like he ever bothered her. He typed a text message.

  Rachel, it’s Chase. Is this still your number?

  A moment later, he got her reply.

  Yes. What’s up with you?

  Can you talk?

  Another moment passed and then his phone rang.

  “Hey,” he said. “Thanks for calling.”

  “It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”

  Her voice took him back to another life. “I’m good. How are you?”

  “I was glad to get your friend request on Facebook a while back. But you never post. You make it hard for a girl to spy on her ex.”

  He smiled a little at the idea of Rachel looking him up. He’d always imagined her plowing forward through a new life, never giving him another thought. “Not been too much to post about.”

  “Well, I know that’s not true. I keep up with you, ya know. My friend Raleigh has a sister who lives in Blue Mountain. She says you can’t throw a rock without seeing a sign with your picture on it down 30A.”

  He rolled his eyes at himself.

  “I’m so glad you’ve found that kind of success, Chase. But I’m not surprised. You were always driven.”

  “That means a lot coming from you,” he said. Rachel was one of the hardest workers he knew. “I see you have a family,” he said, his heart cinching.

  “Yeah, Devon’s four and Midas is nineteen months.”

  “They’re beautiful kids. Your daughter looks just like you.”

  “Thanks. I think they’re pretty wonderful, but I may be biased. Are you…with anyone?”

  He paused, gathering his courage. “I hope so. I’m headed in that direction, I think.”

  “Does she live there in South Walton?”

  “Yeah,” he said, not needing to get into the fact that she was renting his pool house. “She grew up in the Panama City Beach area.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, that’s great, Chase.”

  He scratched his forehead, wincing. “I was wondering about something.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Rachel said, with patience and kindness like when they first got together, before life and their marriage beat them down.

  “Do you think of Sam?” he asked.

  “Of course I think of Sam.”

  “I mean, it’s hard to tell. Your Facebook page is full of pictures of your new family and stuff about your kids.” He knew he sounded like a dick, but he needed to get to the point.

  She let out a heavy breath. “Chase, that’s Facebook. Everything on Facebook is the best of our lives. Do you think I’m going to post on Facebook on the anniversary of Sam’s death, about how I spent the day at a hotel by myself because I needed time to grieve on my own? Do you think I’m going to post about how I can’t buy applesauce for my kids because it was Sam’s favorite? I know other people post like that, but does that seem anything like me?”

  He swallowed hard, realizing he had it all wrong, once again.

  “Every single morning I wake up and I talk to Sam without ever opening my mouth. I lay in bed and I tell him how much I miss him. I tell him when I win a case or when Devon eats her green beans at dinner. I tell him when I watch an episode of Dora and that I love him more with every day, not less. I tell him I will never forget him, not for a moment, and I don’t.”

  Chase’s throat threatened to close. He couldn’t believe Rachel was saying all of this. He’d never dreamed she felt this way.

  “Chase,” she said, “It’s okay to move on. You’re not moving on from Sam. You’re moving forward for you. Just bring Sam with you.”

  A pressure built in Chase’s forehead. “Thank you,” he choked out. “I need to go.”

  “Can I call you back, check in sometimes?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Take care of yourself,” she said, and he disconnected the call.

  Shayla sifted through the coat hangers in her closet one more time for the handkerchief she’d brought back from her mom’s house a couple of weeks ago. She’d draped it across one. She was sure of it. Where was the silly thing? She couldn’t leave without it. Maya was counting on it for her something old.

  She peered at the b
ottom of the closet to see if it had fallen down there somewhere. That was the only explanation. She pulled the boxes out, but nothing was there. She let out an exhausted breath, standing in the middle of the room, palm against her forehead, in her lavender bridesmaid dress thinking, which was doing her no good.

  When she went to shove the boxes back in, her box on top of Chase’s toppled over, taking the lid from Chase’s box with it. “Dammit,” she said, more frustrated than ever.

  She knelt down and loaded the stuff back in her box, and then went to put the lid back on Chase’s box. Her gaze was drawn to a picture of a little boy with dark hair. He looked around two or three years old. She flipped it over and read the writing on the back that said, “Sam, 2 years, 9 months.”

  She flipped it over, zoning in on the face. The child looked like Chase. Knowing she shouldn’t, but unable to resist, she looked at the next pic. It was of Chase with this same boy at the bottom of a big bouncy slide, smiles covering his face and the boy’s. She kept going to find one of Chase with a woman with sandy brown hair and the same boy, all huddled up, family-style, smiling with a carousel as their backdrop.

  Did Chase have a child? That made absolutely no sense. He would have mentioned that by now. And she remembered asking him if he had kids and he’d said no. Was he hiding this kid for some reason?

  She dug further into the box, checking to make sure the blinds were closed and feeling like a total heel, but she had to know. The box had a toy frog in it with rubber hands and feet for teething, the book Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, a dump trunk with a little toy man driving it, and a tiny T-shirt that said “Daddy’s Twin.”

  A knock sounded at her door, sending her heart into overdrive. “Shayla? No rush, but we’re all ready,” Chase said.

  “Okay,” she said, putting the box back exactly like she’d found it. “I’ll be right there. I’m just looking for something I promised to bring to Maya.”

  “You need help looking?”

  “No. I’ll be out in a minute. Why don’t you all go ahead and start the car. I’ll be right there.”