“Oh. Oh.” She clears her throat, and I have to fight from laughing at her drastic overcorrection. She now sits ramrod straight. “Uhm, sorry. I’ll sit still.”
“It’s fine, Sunshine.” Her old nickname slips off the tip of my tongue before I can stop it.
“I haven’t been a ray of sunshine in a long time.” Her voice has a bit of an icy edge, and I fear that my slip sent us back a few steps.
“I doubt that, you’re still Willow.”“The Willow you knew doesn’t exist anymore. Being everyone else's ray of sunshine just left things dark and gloomy for me.”
Her words are a shot to the heart. This isn’t what I had planned for us, but it’s better to get this shit out now, no matter how much I am dreading it. I should have told her the truth when she first got here, but I didn’t think she would believe me. Even now, I don’t think she will. Trying to find the right time for an impossible situation is treacherous.
“Willow…I can never say sorry enough for what I did.” My voice comes out soft, but conviction is laced through every word because I mean it with every bit of my being.“You mean completely turning my world upside down before I was set to move across the country on my own? That was real nice.” Her tone, on the other hand, is harsh and tastes bitter as I try to swallow it down.
“I know, I’m sorry. I was eighteen and stupid and thought I was doing the right thing.” More than anything, I wish that she would believe me. “Yeah, okay. Do you mean the easy thing? If you wanted to do the next step in life single, you should have done it sooner. Waiting until the last day was fucked up and you know it.” Her words have a nice, sharp edge and hit their mark, cutting me deep.
“That’s not what that was about at all. I’m not denying it was completely stupid, and if I knew now what I did then, I never wouldhave done it. And I really am sorry. Losing you is the single biggest regret of my life.”
“I’m sure you’ve done just fine. I bet you couldn’t keep the ladies off you.” The hint of jealousy in her tone both breaks me and gives me hope. I never want to be the reason she’s stressed, but more than anything, I want her to care. To care what I do. She doesn’t know how untrue the entirety of her statement is, though. I was a shell of myself for a long time after she left. Even when pieces of me came back, the most important one didn’t. Her.
“I know I messed up, but I am going to earn your trust again. And not with words but through actions. I’ll prove it to you, Willow. Knowing that you hate me? It kills me.”
“I don’t have the time or energy to hate you. But my trust, I don’t know if you can ever earn that back,” she says quietly, sadness lacing her tone and breaking my heart all over again. I did this and it’s my job to fix it, come hell or high water.
One thing that hasn’t changed about me is my desire to rise to any task she sets in front of me.
Chapter 14
Willow
Weston's apology rings through my ears long after we start our walkthrough. I need to get my shit together. Over my dead body am I going to let him get between me and doing this job well. It’s my first solo project, and if I want to grow in the company, I’m going to have to knock this one out of the park. I should have waited until Aspen could join us, but they’re short-staffed at the hospital, so I haven’t seen much of her or Ava since I’ve been here.
“I want to keep it all rustic while still having modern amenities,” Weston says as he runs his hands over the bare wood wall. It’s glazed over with a preserving stain and still has a sheen. “Can you explain to me what you mean by rustic?” I’ve learned not everyone has the same idea as the next guy, so specific descriptions will help me better understand his vision. “Keeping the wood exposed and in this same color.” He pats the honey-colored timber before looking down. “The hardwood floors need to stay but updating them would be good. Exposed beams or 4x4s across the ceiling?”
I mull over his ideas, the vision coming to life in my head. “That sounds like a good idea. If we pair that with really luxurious beds, linens, and bathrooms, I think you will attract a wide variety of guests. The more appealing we make it to the broader market, the greater success you can achieve in the long run.”
“Yeah, I like all that. I just want it to be a cozy place where people can fall in love with Wyoming. It’s underrated, and for a lot of my life I took it for granted.” He shoves his hands into his pockets as he gazes out the window, staring at the pine trees surrounding us. His words hit their mark because I feel the same way. Being back here with all this open space and fresh air has me almost dreading going back to New York. I love my job and the hustle, but I miss this part of life. The slowdown, the scenery, the peacefulness.
“I think a lot of us did,” I say without thinking.
I walk further through this cabin, wanting to fish out more ideas from him, see what he’s been dreaming about. Taking note of things that definitely need work, which is basically the whole cabin, mine really is in the best shape, which is kind of sad when you think about it, but I’m glad we’re about to bring them back to life and make them shine. I can almost imagine all the memories they are going to hold. Families laughing, couples exploring, or even just some single people needing some space from the real world. I can understand that.
It takes us about two hours to go through the other cabins. I take thorough notes and make sure I have all my ducks in a row for the project submission to the contractor. I’m grateful Weston was willing to splurge on two contractor teams. That’s going to be my saving grace for even having a chance to finish this on time. My boss has emailed me almost every day this week, and I don’t want to give him a reason to doubt me.
My cabin is closest to the main road, so our ride there is pretty quick.
“So, how long have you been at your current job?” Weston asks. His warm body presses up against me, and I have to fight from wanting to snuggle in closer, but we’re not doing that. That’s not what we’re here for. I know better than that now.
Part of me doesn’t want to be honest with him because telling him I’ve been at this job since college and I’m only starting to be successful feels embarrassing. He always put me up on a pedestal, thinking I was the best and was going to accomplish anything and everything because of that, so did I. Out there, I was a big fish in a little pond. I was up against people who have been in this industry much longer, people whose parents had connections, and I didn’t even have parents, nevertheless connections.
“I started as an intern my senior year in college.”
“Oh wow. Do you like it there?” I can feel the genuine curiosity in his tone.
That’s a loaded question on my end because part of me does like it. I like the job, I like feeling busy, and I like constantly trying to be better. What I don’t like is being taken for granted, and after this many years, I’m only inches away from being the office bitch. I had to work from the bottom up. It didn’t matter what type of degree I earned; every opportunity given to me, I earned myself so that I’m proud of.
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Even I can hear the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.
“Just okay?” he questions, readjusting his grip on the reins, his elbow rubs against my ribs, and induces a shiver out of me. How pathetic that it’s been this long, and a simple touch still sends me into a spiral.
Trying harder to sell it this time, I say, “Yeah, I like my job. There’s always a new challenge, and I’m learning something new every day. I’velearned a lot there. So better than okay.” Not a lie, so it’s a little easier to make it sound convincing. You can be unfulfilled while still being generally happy, right?
