"But your stuff's all here. That doesn't make sense."
"Maybe. But that doesn't make it untrue."
"Hey, if you want me to leave, you don't need an excuse." She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Say we're done, and make it official."
It felt like she was daring me to hurt her. That's not what I wanted, but I refused to lie. "Fine. We're done."
For a second, she just stared, as if waiting for me to take it back. She didn't breathe, and neither did I as the moment held, like glass about to shatter.
Finally, she gave a single nod. "Right. Well…thanks for the closure, I guess."
She didn't cry. She didn't argue. And she didn't reach for the mini-bar, either—although she looked like she might break if she stayed another moment.
A minute later, it was over. I had the keycard. She had the book. And nobody was happy.
Call it a lose-lose.
But I owed her one last truth – a detail I'd been holding back, not because it wasn't worth mentioning, but because soon, Tessa would've found out on her own.
For reasons I couldn't quite decipher, I didn't want her hearing it from someone else. As she was walking out the door, I softly said, "Hey, Tessa."
When she turned to look, the hope in her eyes hurt to see. "Yeah?"
"You don't need to worry about Carver."
She hesitated. "Why?"
"Because he's dead."
She took a step back. "What? You're joking, right?"
I didn't have it in me to joke. "Nope. By noon, it'll be all over the news. But I wanted you to know first."
90
Flowers and Cedar
Tessa
By four o'clock, I was completely spent.
The day had dragged on in slow motion, broken only by Skip whining about his sprained finger and suggesting that I make him lunch.
Aside from that, it was just me, the counter, and a phone I kept telling myself not to check.
So of course, I checked it nonstop while obsessing over the guy who'd turned my world upside-down.
Not Evan Carver.
Ryder.
I didn't understand him at all.Fine. If his feelings could change on a dime, I was better off without him.
Except it didn't feel that way, so I tried to focus on the other villain, the menace who'd driven me from Chicago. By noon, the story was everywhere – at least from sources in the city.
There, Evan Carver was a big deal. Here on the island, not so much.
Still, I devoured the details like a diner who'd skipped breakfast.
