Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“But is that fair to her? To ask her to be so understanding? She wants to get married eventually. What if I never do?”
She shrugged. “Again, that’s a ‘what if’ you’re using to shield yourself from intimacy.”
I was beginning to see what Emme meant when she said it could be kind of annoying to have a sister who was also a therapist. But I also knew I needed to hear this. “Tell me what to do,” I said. “I thought I’d feel better once she was gone and I could reclaim as much of my old life and my old self as possible, but I was wrong. I don’t want to go back to who I was. It doesn’t feel right anymore. Nothing feels right without her.” I stopped to take a breath. “And now she’s taken that job, and I’m worried I can’t get her back. That I have nothing to offer her other than myself. Nothing to promise her.”
Stella thought for a while before answering. “First, I think you can get her back. I’m not saying it won’t take some work, because Emme is really hurt. She’s determined to make changes in her life and the way she approaches relationships that will help her avoid having her heart broken again.” She shrugged. “She’s pretty much got your face in a red circle with a line through it.”
I nodded glumly. “I’m sure she does.”
“But.” Stella leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes lighting up. “Emme loves a big romantic gesture. I think you could get her to give you another chance.”
“A big romantic gesture?” I blinked. “I’ve got no idea what that could be.”
“Me neither. And it has to come from you. Something to show her that you love and accept her for who she is and you want her in your life. I don’t think she’s looking for promises beyond that, Nate. And I don’t think you have to offer her anything but your willingness to be open to the journey with her.”
“I am.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” She picked up her coffee and sipped.
“You know, I looked at some houses this week,” I went on, surprising myself. “And I was in this one, and it was like I could see it all so clearly—me and Emme and a family. I got chills.”
“You’re giving me chills.” She smiled. “So it’s all right there in front of you.”
“You’re right. It is.” I picked up my coffee and took a drink, although it was only lukewarm now. My mind was spinning—how was I going to make it all happen? There were so many pieces that needed to fall in place. How was I going to get her to listen to me?
“She’s visiting Mia this weekend,” said Stella. “She left about an hour ago and will be gone until Sunday.” Then she must have seen how crushed I was that more days had to pass before I could set eyes on Emme again because she laughed gently. “That is a very sad face.”
“I feel sad,” I admitted. “I don’t want to wait. I want to fix this.”
She tilted her head and shrugged. “You could go up there and surprise her.”
I sat up taller in my seat. “You think?”
“Sure. Why not?”
The gears in my head went into overdrive. “Stella, do you happen to know where she’s staying?”
“At the winery. Our cousin Mia’s place.”
“Could I ask you for contact information for Mia?”
She thought for a second, then pulled her phone from her purse. “Sure, why not? Mia loves a good romantic gesture, too.”
“Thanks.” I put Mia’s cell number into my phone, still not exactly sure how I was going to win Emme back, but positive I was going to try.
Tonight.
First, I called my boss and asked for the day off tomorrow, offering to work overtime next week to make up for lost billable hours. She said it wouldn’t be a problem.
Next, I called Rachel and told her I’d be coming from a different direction tomorrow and might need a slight adjustment on the pickup time, depending on traffic.
Finally, I called Mia Fournier.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mia?”
“Yes. Can I help you?”
“I hope so. This is Nate Pearson. I’m a friend of your cousin Emme?”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Pearson?”
I detected a note of cool formality in her voice, and I didn’t blame her. She’d probably heard what a first class asshole I’d been to her cousin.
“For now, just hear me out.” I signaled, veered onto the on ramp to I-75, and hit the gas.
“I’m about to sit down to dinner with my family. Will this take long?”
“I hope not. Has Emme arrived yet?”
“No. I’m expecting her around nine.”
I checked the clock on my dash. It was six-thirty, which meant the timeline would be tight if I wanted to pull this off. But it could be done.