“I don’t think West will be here long enough to go with us to the beach, baby girl,” I chime in, hopeful he’ll get the hint.
But he does not.
For Charlie’s sake, I hold everything in while we go to the beach and tell myself this last day with West is for her. For once, he is actually trying. He’s spending real time with her. Playing inthe sand, holding her hand, and jumping in the waves. I sit on a towel spread out on the sand.
Deep down, there’s a gnawing at me like a throbbing reminder that this isn’t normal. Whatever is happening here, with Charlie and West—it’s not normal. This is his last-ditch effort to make things work between us, to convince me to come back to Seattle.
West calls my name out from the waves. I glance up and find him with his hands cupped around his mouth when he calls me again. “Rosie! Get out here!”
I shake my head. I want this moment for Charlie to be a positive one. Something she can look back on as a nice memory.
“C’mon,” West tries again. “Get that fine ass of yours out here.”
“C’mon, Mama!” Charlie shouts.
My phone sits inside my bag with the unanswered texts from Beck. I debate responding but I don’t want to do this over text. I need to see him.
I meant everything I said to him today on the ferry. I love him. But whether it’s enough for us to be together or not, I don’t know. I can only hope it is.
Right now, I’m conflicted. Not with who to choose, but how to let this man down easy who welcomed me and my daughter into his life. He was open with me from the beginning, informing me that he worked a stupid amount of hours, that he’d never cared enough about a woman to ask her to move in—until me.
“Rosie!” West calls again. “Don’t make me come get you,” he teases.
I hop up and jog to the water to join West and Charlie in the waves. Because maybe he needs this last happy memory just as much as Charlie does before I tell him goodbye.
Back at Dottie’s house, I give Charlie a quick bath while West showers in my bathroom. We drain the tub, and I wrap a towel around her, dropping a kiss to the top of her damp head. I scroll on my phone, giving her some privacy while she dries off and gets dressed in a pair of pajamas.
My heart stalls in my chest as I reread the lasts texts from Beck.
Beck
I signed your papers
You’re no longer my wife
Tears spring to my eyes while I stare at it, reading it over and over.
“You okay, Mama?” Charlie asks.
I glance up and find her dressed in her pajamas. “I’m fine, baby girl. Why don’t you go in your room and pick out your favorite book. I need to talk to West for a minute.”
She races down the hall and when she’s out of sight, I give in to the anguish that’s wracking me. Sobs break free from my chest, tearing out of my mouth even as I try to cover them with a clamped hand.
I knock on the door to the bathroom and West opens it, bare chest and a towel tied around his waist.
“You should’ve knocked a few minutes earlier. You could’ve joined me,” he teases, waggling his brows.
I stare at him blankly.
He bends and tilts his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I need you to go,” I say flatly.
Straightening, he barks out a laugh and struts past me, stopping at his suitcase that’s open-faced on my bed.
I follow him, crossing my arms and leaning my hip against the mattress. “I’m serious, West. I meant what I said earlier. And I meant what I said back in Seattle before I left.”
He tugs a T-shirt over his head. “Yeah, but that was before.”
