Because, yeah, despite trying at every turn not to, I’ve done the dumbest thing I’ve ever done before—I’ve fallen in love with her, and I’m not about to let her give up on us before we’ve even really started.
My thoughts spin into overdrive, and Daniel’s snores fill the room.
I stay the night again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Summer
Ezra has been with me every day for a week, and I’m not sure whether I’m touched or irritated by it.
Heis the one who said he didn’t do relationships.Heis the one who said he didn’t do love.
This certainly feels like both.
Dad is home, and the only reason Ezra isn’t here right now is that I finally forced him out last night.
I couldn’t take another moment of his longing looks or his sad eyes, mainly because they were working.
I love him—of courseI love him—and deep down I’m glad he’s been right by my side through all of this. I’m not sure I could have survived it otherwise.
But he’s also a reminder of just how badly I fucked this whole thing up.
I should have called my father’s doctor the second he mentioned heartburn. Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so bad that he had a heart attack at his desk.
He was alone.
That part gutted me when I found out. I cried for two hours straight until I couldn’t cry anymore.
It was Deputy Jenkins—thank you, Jenkins—who found him just a minute or two later. They performed CPR on him until the ambulance arrived, where they stabilized him and rushed him to the hospital.
I was eating cereal. I was giggling. I was fucking making out with my situationship.
What kind of person does that make me? What kind of daughter? I moved back here for him, and I’ve been so wrapped up in someone else that I let his health get to the point of major surgery and a multiday hospital stay.
I’ve let everyone down, including my biggest cheerleader and the man who has been the only family I have had since I was eight.
I’m not going to let anything distract me again. Not Ezra, not Stick Taps, and certainly not some romanticized idea of opening my own restaurant.
Odette was beyond understanding when I told her I wouldn’t be able to make it to her wedding. She didn’t even mention how it would ruin the symmetry of the table if Ezra didn’t have a date.
And we’re swimming in flowers to the point that I had to tell the ladies down at the flower shop to start donating every order that comes through. Our fridge is exploding with casseroles, and our counters are overflowing with baked goods. I eventually had to put a sign on the door and had the powers that be blast it out to the citywide newsletter that we cannot accept any more visitors.
It’s safe to say that if my father chooses to continue his campaign for reelection as sheriff, he won’t have any trouble getting Port Harbor to rally behind him.
Selfishly, I hope he doesn’t. I hope he retires and settles down. We still don’t know what caused the blockage, but I doubt the stresses of his job helped.
“How are you doing? Do you need anything?”
My father sighs from his favorite recliner, then points the remote at the TV, muting it. “I love you, kiddo, but if you ask me those questions—or any variation, for that matter—again, I might have to kick you out on the curb.”
I grimace. Shit. I guess I have been asking him those same questions over and over.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m just worried about you. You did just have a heart attack, after all.”
“I am well aware of what happened and how serious it was, Summer. But I’m okay. I am going to continue to be okay. I have a great team taking care of me at the hospital, so you can stop fretting over me every second of the day.”
I sigh, then nod.
