I can’t fully follow her line of reasoning, but I’d do anything for her, including saying yes if it will make her feel better. “We can talk about it another time. Together.”
“Daniel?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I hope you also get everything you want. Good luck tomorrow.”
Nodding to an apartment that doesn’t have her scent on the sheets anymore or her dress on the floor of the entry, only her absence from my arms, I swallow. “Good luck tomorrow. I love you, Summer.”
Summer is with me.
The signs are everywhere this morning as I make my way to The Breakaways’ franchise offices. Blue in the sky and on a dress displayed in a store window. Golden sunshine strikes my eyes when I round the corner. A sign above a swimsuit shop that reads “Are you ready for Summer Season?”
So fucking ready.
I meet the attorneys in the lobby, and we ride the elevators up together. We’re led down the hall to the large conference room. The assistant opens the door, and announces, “Mr. Sutton is here for the meeting.”
As soon as I’m seated, the door is closed, and we begin the negotiations.
CHAPTER 29
SUMMER
“Breatheeee, Summer.” I exhale long and slowly, manifesting my way into winning today. “Youwillwin this bid. Youwillown a cottage. All your workwillpay off.”
“The Maverick of Hockey scores!” . . . “He just locked down league MVP, Josh.” . . .
“Ohmmmm,” I hum with pinched fingers, meditating to the sound of Daniel winning four years ago blaring from my computer.
“You’restillwatching his old games?”
“Cheez-Its on a cracker.” Opening my eyes, I grab my chest but then slam my laptop closed like I was caught watching porn. “You scared me, Fall. Announce yourself.”
“Do you prefer I go with ‘I, Lady Autumn of the Seasons of Mountain Laurel Cove’?” She cracks herself up. “Or does shouting ‘I’m coming in’ work better for you?” She sits in the chair at the desk, crossing her legs and looking bored.
I drop my hands beside me on the bed, and I roll my head to the side to see her. “A knock will suffice.”
“The door was wide open. Isn’t that the universalsignal for come on in?” She turns toward the mirror and takes a green bauble necklace down to try on. “Still blue over your beau?”
“I half watch just to see him or hear his voice in interviews. It relaxes me.” My arms fall wide beside me. I don’t tell her that I fall asleep with his games playing and have been spending time learning about hockey. “I’m hopeless.”
“You’re not. You’ve just lost some of your spark. You’ll get it back, and you don’t need a man for that.”
“What about a cottage? Think that would help?”
Getting up, she comes and flops on the bed next to me. “A cottage should do it.” Rolling over, she says, “Will you fasten this for me?”
“It’s not helped that I’ve worked so much at the Honey Hive this month.” I sit up again and take the clasp of the necklace and hook it together. “Fall, I’ve been putting in forty- and fifty-hour shifts to help get the shop off the ground.”
“July is peak tourist season, Sum. I even picked up a Honey Hive shift after a twelve-hour shift at the hospital.” She rubs my arm. “I know Winter appreciates our help.”
I know she’s right and that Winter does appreciate it. But even if she didn’t, I think I’d probably find myself doing the same thing, anyway. I can’t fill every minute of my day with old hockey videos.
“I keep thinking maybe it’s a godsend to keep me occupied. The other cottage has had a lot of turnovers, too. A new renter every week. Cleaning, prepping, shopping. My spark is exhausted.”
And … sad.
I catch my sister’s kind eyes and the sympathy she has for me. I’ve tried desperately to keep myself busy and moving, filling every moment so I don’t have time to thinktoo much about him. It’s kept me from having a total meltdown because I don’t have time for it. But seeing my sadness reflected hits hard, and when she places her hand on top of mine, my bottom lip begins to quiver.
“I miss him,” I whisper, the words freed in the room for the first time.Will I ever be able to catch them to hide in the back of the closet and ignore again?I’ll have to. They’re too heavy to carry around and weigh my shoulders down. “I’m afraid of how terrible it’s going to be when I’m not so busy that I have to sit with my feelings.”
Taking my hand between both of hers, she says, “He’s an athlete who travels a lot for his job. This isn’t a one-off. This is how it’s going to be more often than not. You, sweet sister, need to figure out if this is the life you want, if it’s one you can live with or not.”
