Growing up with Makayla, Mitch had seen firsthand how someone could struggle with worry or anxiety. Makayla had resisted change, and when it was forced on her, she often had a difficult time adjusting. Which, in all honesty, made it challenging for all those around her. Some of the family had gotten frustrated with Makayla, calling her a drama queen or diva. As a teen, however, Mitch saw that it wasn’t something she could easily control.
He was noticing some similar behaviors and actions from Belle. That didn’t scare him. In fact, it drew him to her even more. He didn’t know if she’d always been that way, or if her reactions were a result of her relationship with Andre. It didn’t really matter, though, because he just wanted to be in her life, and to have her want to be in his.
Over the past couple of weeks, he’d gone back and forth about whether he wanted to make himself vulnerable to her. To take the chance of bearing his heart to her. Given how she was now, it seemed that it wasn’t a risk that would pay off the way he wanted. And yet…he just hadn’t been able to convince himself to keep his distance from her.
Mitch fell asleep, thoughts of Belle still lingering in his subconscious mind.
He came awake sometime later and shifted to grab his phone. The glowing numbers told him that it was just past one in the morning. He’d been asleep less than two hours. Dragging a hand over his face, Mitch put his phone back down and turned over, hoping that he’d be able to get back to sleep easily.
But after shifting positions several times and finding sleep elusive, Mitch sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Moving quietly, he got to his feet and headed out of the room, taking the advice he’d given Belle earlier about going downstairs if she couldn’t sleep.
The cabin was quiet as he moved down the staircase to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then wandered over to the seats near the large windows that looked out over the water. Though it was appealing to go outside to look at the stars in the inky black sky, Mitch had no interest in becoming a midnight snack for mosquitoes. Instead, he settled back in one of the armchairs, his feet propped up on an ottoman.
He’d been downstairs for about ten minutes when he heard movement from the second floor. Being as familiar with the cabin as he was, Mitch knew that the noises were coming from the girls’ room. Was Belle coming downstairs because she was unable to sleep? Or was it just someone going to the bathroom or coming downstairs to get a drink?
The sounds of the floor softly creaking continued as someone moved out of the room upstairs and down the hallway. Mitch turned his head toward the steps—which were illuminated by soft lights built into the wall—and watched as a familiar figure made their way down the stairs. His dad had left nightlights burning in strategic places throughout the cabin, including the kitchen and living room areas. He had wanted to make sure that even visitors to the cabin would feel comfortable moving around in the night if they wanted or needed to.
The fridge light came on briefly, silhouetting Belle’s figure. Mitch watched as she reached for a bottle of water, just as he had. He wasn’t sure if he needed to alert her to his presence if she planned to go back upstairs. However, when she turned toward where he sat, Mitch knew that he couldn’t hide.
He cleared his throat then said, “Guess I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.”
Belle came to a stop at his words, and Mitch held his breath as he waited to see what she’d do. If she’d come downstairs to be alone, then, most likely, she wouldn’t want to come sit near him. But Mitch hoped that she would be willing to share the quiet of the nighttime. He wouldn’t push for conversation if she didn’t want to talk.
After what felt like an eternity, Belle moved to sit in the armchair across from his. She propped her feet up on the ottoman as well and cracked the seal on the lid of the bottle of water before lifting it to take a sip.
Though he would have happily sat there staring at Belle, Mitch figured that would be ill-received, so he turned his gaze back to the window. As silence settled between them, Mitch continued to take drinks of water from the bottle he held.
“If you want something other than water to drink, let me know. I can make you coffee, tea, or hot chocolate.”
“Thanks, but I think water is best if I hope to sleep at all tonight,” Belle said, the water bottle crinkling as she rolled it between her hands. They were silent for a few more minutes before she asked, “What’s keeping you up tonight?”
“I did fall asleep but woke up a little while ago, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I think it is partly due to me not being used to sharing a room with six other guys. None of them are bad snorers, but it’s just the noises, you know?” Mitch was happy to answer her question and figured it gave him the right to ask one of his own. “How about you?”
“Well, like you, I’m not used to sharing a room anymore. When we were younger, the four of us shared a room, but that hasn’t been the case for quite a few years now.” She paused. “Also, I’m not used to sleeping in the same room with people I don’t know very well.”
“I’m sorry if that has made this weekend uncomfortable for you,” Mitch said.
“It’s not your fault. Besides, I could have insisted on going to the hotel. And my sisters aren’t having the same problem, so this is clearly my issue.”
“Sometimes we forget that not everyone is so comfortable around strangers as most of us are,” Mitch said. “My sister, Makayla, is like you. She’s a bit different now, but a few years ago, she found things like change or being around people she didn’t know, to be very stressful.”
“Really?” Belle asked. “Was she always that way?”
“Yeah. Well, for as long as I’d known her. We met when she was seven or eight. She’d had some difficulties in her early years. Her dad was in the military, so they moved around a bit before he died. That was when they moved back to Canada. So I think those things might have contributed to her issues with change and not being comfortable with people she didn’t know well. Given that her biological siblings don’t react the same way, I guess there was a part of her that was like that all along.”
“She’s not like that now?”
“Oh, she’s still that way to a degree. I think she’d prefer to not have change forced on her, but she is getting better at accepting it. Of course, having met her husband as a result of a major change has helped her. Now she can’t claim that all change is bad.”
Belle didn’t ask any further questions as she continued to drink her water. Mitch figured their conversation was over, so he was surprised when she spoke again.
“I do like you, Mitch,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I hope you know that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Mitch wasn’t sure how to respond. He had a feeling that she wasn’t talking about liking him in the way he wanted her to. “I kind of assumed that, since we have hung out a few times.”
“Yeah.” Belle propped her bottle of water on her knees. “I enjoyed that.”
Not certain how else to respond, Mitch remained quiet, waiting for her to continue to lead the conversation. He wasn’t going to put words in her mouth or force her to address any part of their time together. It was like approaching a skittish animal. One wrong word and she’d bolt.
“We just can’t be more than friends, though.”
Mitch figured that this was going to be his one and only chance for answers, so he asked, “Why not?”
“I can’t be who you want me to be,” Belle said.
“How do you know who I want you to be?” Mitch asked. “How do you know that I don’t want you to just be you?”
“I’ve seen you with your nieces. You clearly adore them.” Belle turned toward him, even though Mitch doubted she could see much. “Can you tell me you don’t want children?”
“I do, but are you saying you don’t?”
“I don’t. My business demands too much of me. It wouldn’t be fair to have children when I’m so busy with work.”
&nb
sp; “I’ve heard your family all tell you to hire someone to help out.” Mitch paused, knowing his next words might upset her. “You choose to be busy.”
“Maybe I do. In which case, I also choose not to have children. And to be honest, I’m not ready for a relationship. Not now, and maybe not ever.”
“Is that how you’ve always felt?”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you ever dream of having a family? Of getting married and having kids?”
When she hesitated before answering, Mitch wondered if he’d get the truth or some version of it.
“I suppose, like most girls, I did imagine having those things, but life experience changes perspectives.”
“You mean that Andre changed your perspective,” Mitch said, no longer worried that she might bolt. It sounded like he’d already lost her, so why not try and get some answers while he could.
“Experiences are what shape us,” Belle murmured. “Yes. Andre has helped shape some of my perspectives.”
“But if you wanted those things at one time, why are you letting him take them away from you now?”
“He isn’t.” Mitch wondered if Belle heard the tremble in her voice and that was why she paused. “I’m…choosing not to have those things in my life.”
“No, I think you’re letting Andre take them from you.” Mitch swallowed, knowing he was pushing harder than he probably should have. Definitely harder than he’d planned to. “You may have removed Andre physically from your life, but he’s still taking up space in your head. As long as you’re not allowing yourself to have the things you once wanted to have, he’s winning.”
“Our experiences change us,” Belle repeated as the plastic of her water bottle crinkled loudly. “I had a relationship already. One that convinced me that I don’t need to experience that again.”
“But you weren’t in a healthy relationship, Belle. In fact, it was a highly unhealthy one.”
“I know that better than anyone, and I am not going to allow myself to ever be in that position again.”
Heart sinking, Mitch said, “Not every relationship is like that, Belle. Not every relationship involves someone trying to suck the life out of their partner. Not every man wants to treat a woman the way Andre treated you. In fact, most don’t.”
“I understand that. I’m just not interested in taking a chance to prove it.”
“So you say that you like me, but do you think I could be like Andre?” When she remained quiet, Mitch pushed one last time. “Do you feel anything for me, Belle? Anything like what I feel for you?”
Belle didn’t answer his question. Instead, she said, “It doesn’t really matter. I’m not prepared to get involved in any way. Even with you.” She hesitated. “You deserve better than what I can offer you, Mitch.”
“Don’t you think that I should be the judge of what’s good for me?”
“Of course,” Belle said, her tone agreeable. “Just like I should be the judge of what is good for me.”
With that, Belle got to her feet and walked away from him.
Mitch stared at her shadowy form as she moved through the kitchen, leaving her water bottle on the counter before climbing the stairs. Left alone with his thoughts and his heartache, Mitch tipped his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.
He’d been praying for this opportunity, but now that he’d had it, Mitch wished he hadn’t. Though he’d always known the road to love might not be easy, he hadn’t envisioned that it would come to an end at the edge of a precipice. Across the chasm, Belle was moving away, leaving him with no way of reaching her.
So maybe this was the sign he’d been waiting for. Though he’d hoped that any serious conversation between them would be a sign of things moving forward, he’d ended up with the opposite. She’d told him no. She hadn’t denied that she had feelings for him, but she had said no.
And Belle was right. He could say that she was perfect for him, but only she could determine if he was perfect for her. And she’d clearly decided that whatever else he was, he wasn’t good enough to take a risk on.
Though he knew he wasn’t likely to sleep, Mitch pushed to his feet and wearily made his way up the stairs after tossing both water bottles into the recycling bin. Back in his bed, he prayed for sleep to come. He didn’t want to lay there thinking, or rather, overthinking, the conversation he’d just had with Belle.
When he woke the next morning, it would be with the knowledge that hope was no longer his when it came to a relationship with Belle. Truth be told, he wasn’t surprised—even though he’d hoped to the contrary—to discover that he wasn’t worth taking a risk on.
Belle breathed a sigh of relief when Rory’s car pulled out of the parking lot of her apartment building. Finally, she was home. Though her instinct had been to demand that they leave first thing that morning, she managed to stick it out through the casual church service they’d had and then the lunch that followed.
Thankfully, Mitch had kept his distance, and honestly, it seemed like he hadn’t been upset at all by their conversation from the previous night. Belle was relieved, or at least that’s what she told herself. If nothing else, the conversation had proven her suspicions about Mitch to be true. He had wanted something more than just a friendship.
But that door had now been firmly shut between them. She didn’t think friendship was a possibility anymore either. That upset her, but it was the price she had to pay. Plus, now Mitch would be free to find a woman who could be what he needed in his life. Someone like Denise.
Mitch had been right that Andre was still directing her life, but for Belle, it was only because she had learned her lesson from him.
Since Belle had the rest of the day off as well as the next, she had to find things to keep her busy, which really, wasn’t that difficult. But still, parts of her conversation with Mitch kept popping into her mind, often causing her to space-out, abandoning whatever task she’d been trying to focus on. Though it was aggravating, she knew it was better if their conversation was distracting her that day. Hopefully, the next day, when she was at work, her focus would be better.
Only it wasn’t.
Part of that was because she received an email from Mitch stating that he’d gone to the reno site that morning and had discovered that several walls had been graffitied. He’d attached pictures and had assured her that they were reviewing the camera footage from the site and would let her know what they found.
While Belle appreciated him letting her know what was happening—and using email versus phone to do so—she would have appreciated another day or two without contact from him. Instead, she emailed him back to thank him for keeping her up-to-date. He could have had Mark call her to let her know, but something told her that his professionalism demanded that he be the one to contact her. She was grateful that he’d at least chosen to do it via email rather than phoning her.
Throughout the rest of the week, she dealt with thoughts of him popping into her head at random times. Thankfully, she had plenty to keep her busy because if she was having that many thoughts of him even with everything she had going on, Belle could only imagine how much she’d be thinking of him if she didn’t have anything to do.
On Friday afternoon, she had been so distracted by thoughts of Mitch and their conversation at the cabin that she had forgotten that she needed to avoid being anywhere near the foyer of the bridal shop. So she’d escorted a new client to the front after their consultation and then lingered to talk to the woman at the reception desk since Jasmine had been busy with a client.
When the front door opened, Belle turned then froze as she spotted Andre entering the building, a large bouquet of red roses in his hand. He hesitated when he saw her, then a broad smile spread across his face. The smile sent unease through her. This was the reason she’d always avoided the front of the shop on Fridays. And as luck would have it, on the Friday she slipped up, it would be him bringing the flowers and not a delivery driver.
“Belle!�
� Andre exclaimed as he came to stand next to her, setting the vase with the flowers on the reception desk. “How nice to see you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Belle responded, her hands tightening their grip on her phone.
“Now, honey, is that any way to respond when I’ve brought you such a beautiful bouquet of flowers?” Andre asked. “They were not cheap.”
Belle was aware of the receptionist’s attention to their conversation even though the woman had moved away and was focusing on the screen of her computer. Everyone that worked at the shop was aware that regardless of how charming Andre was, they were always to say Belle was unavailable to him.
“And I’m sure the women at the women’s shelter will enjoy them. That’s where all the flowers that you send, go.”
Andre’s features tightened for a moment, creating an expression Belle was well-familiar with. It usually meant that he was going to say something demeaning or insulting. However, he usually didn’t do that when he had an audience, so she didn’t expect him to say anything right then.
“You are so ungrateful. After all I’ve done for you, this is the way you treat my gifts.” Andre shook his head, projecting as much disappointment as he was capable of faking into his words and actions. “Do your employees know how ungrateful and selfish you are?”
Belle wondered if the woman sitting at the desk thought she was crazy for resisting Andre’s advances. From outward appearances, Andre was a good catch. Tall and handsome, he wore his age well. His graying hair was perfectly styled, and his skin was tanned. Belle also knew what it took for him to maintain his athletic frame. So yeah, if someone went strictly on appearance, Andre would be quite a catch.
Unfortunately, the man’s beauty was truly only skin deep. It was too bad that it had taken her four years to realize that. To realize that his desire to give her a place in his business was more about his desire to control her life.
A Touch of Romance: A Christian Romance (Callaghans & McFaddens Book 6) Page 24
