Chapter 38: A False Start: Chapter 38

“Hey man!” Stefan claps me on the back as we lock arms tightly. I don’t need to look at him to know that he’s grinning like a maniac. “It’s so good to see you.”

I huff out a chuckle. “Thanks for giving me a ride. My parents were seriously talking about postponing their winter stay in Mexico to be here to pick me up. Couldn’t have that.”

“Of course. Not a problem at all. Just the one bag?” He glances around me in confusion, since I asked him to bring a pickup truck today.

“Oh, yeah. Let me toss it in. There’s something else just inside I need your help with.”

He nods a bit suspiciously, his eyes never leaving me as I ditch my bag in the back seat and head back in his direction. I’ve been in rehab for a month. Checked into the first place that would take me and didn’t look back. I knew if I had too much time to think about it, I’d back out and come up with an excuse to avoid treatment.

After years of avoidance, I’ve become adept.

But no longer. Now I’m facing things head on. My days of hiding are over. Hiding from society, my past, or hiding the truth. Because even after weeks away from her, I am still head-over-fucking-heels in love with Nadia Dalca.

Even more because she walked away from me. What a woman. Goddamn, I’m just so proud of her.

“What are you smiling about?” Stefan asks as I stroll back toward him with my hands shoved into my pockets.

“Nadia.”

He blinks at me, like he didn’t quite expect me to just say it point blank. Yeah, we’ve talked on the phone pretty regularly since I checked in here, and I haven’t stopped asking how she’s doing. I’ve made no secret of the way I feel about her, and I don’t plan to start now.

I have an entirely different plan.

When I wave a hand over my shoulder, Stefan falls into step beside me. “She’s doing really good, you know.”

“Yeah?” The sliding doors open for us, and we step inside to grab the big slab of wood wrapped in a sheet. I point at it, and confusion paints his features, but he doesn’t ask anything more. We’re still working on this new phase of our friendship. One where we talk more about things rather than just mutually ignoring them.

It’s fucking hard. Talking about your feelings. I’ve got a real love/hate relationship with it. Even after a month straight of practicing.

He hefts up one side and I take the other. “Yeah. I mean, sure, she’s stressed and a little overwhelmed, but she’s working so hard at it. She’s so focused. It’s just crazy to see, considering the wild child she showed up in Canada as. A few short years and boom. She’s really transformed herself.”

He shakes his head with a small smile as we approach the open truck bed. “I mean, she’s like a whole new person.”

I swallow. Hopefully not new. Not so new that she won’t want me anymore. That she’ll realize I’m washed up and weighed down and that she wants some normal, happy fucking Ken doll.

I’d respect her decision if she did. But I’m pretty sure I’d never get over her. She’s it for me.

And who am I kidding? I’d kill that fucking guy.

We heft the piece of wood into the back of the truck, and once it’s slid into place, Stefan gestures his chin toward it. “Listen, I’m trying not to be too snoopy. But what is this?”

I feel suddenly shy. Like maybe I’ll never show it to anyone, even though that’s been my plan all along. “It’s something I made. You can take a look at it.”

Offering him a tight smile, I hop off the back of the truck and head toward the passenger seat. Through the rearview mirror I see curiosity get the best of my friend. He hops up and crouches down, peeling away the sheet. His brow pinches as he stares down at it, and I swear I watch the color drain right out of his face.

His head snaps up, and he meets my gaze in the mirror. I don’t pretend I wasn’t watching him. That wouldn’t be honest. I hold his green eyes with my own, and he nods at me. It’s firm, it’s precise—it means something.

And when he gets back in the truck and pulls away from the facility I’ve called home for the past month, we don’t talk about it at all.

Instead, he breaks the silence with, “You’re not trending on Twitter anymore.”

I can’t help but laugh. What a fucking joke. As soon as that gold digger realized I wasn’t going to shell out any cash to her, she dragged her greedy ass straight to the first tabloid that would listen to her.

I scoff. “Not sad that I didn’t have social media access in there. Easier to ignore it when looking isn’t even an option.”

“For sure. The good news is, I don’t think there’s a tape. If there was, she would have released it by now.”

I rest my head back on the seat and blow out a breath. “Yeah. That’s what my lawyer thinks, too.” Which is honestly something I’m very conflicted about. Relieved that there’s no tape that can be leaked but enraged I spent years running from an outcome that was a venomous fucking lie.

When I told my parents the full story that night I called to talk about rehab, they’d been stoic. I wanted them prepared. As usual, they were painfully supportive—but I’m not dumb enough to think it didn’t gut them.

Preparing the people you love to be publicly embarrassed by you is a hard pill to swallow.

Luckily, for once, things are turning up Griffin.

“The only thing I’ve seen are the wedding photos with Elvis,” Stefan continues, eyes on the road. “And hilariously, the general response to those has come in two camps.” I lift a brow at him to go on. “People who think you look hot and people who think she’s, and I’m quoting here, .”

I cringe a little bit. I obviously don’t like Tonya, but I’m still the drunk idiot who did it. That said, I’m not mad that this campaign has blown up in her face.

The only person I’m mad at is myself. For doing this to myself. But even that is getting better. After a month spent with daily therapy, counseling, and even speech therapy, I’m feeling like I know myself better than I ever have.

I’m feeling motivated.

“I guess that’s why she’s agreed to mediation rather than some big court drama. Tucking tail.”

“Good.” Stefan’s knuckles go white on the steering wheel. The only clue that she pisses him off more than he lets on.

A companionable silence stretches between us as we drive down the main highway back out to Ruby Creek until he breaks it.

“Is that special cargo in the back for my sister?”

I swallow and roll my lips together before quietly replying. “Yeah.”

“Is that why you had me haul that trailer down there?”

“Yeah.” My heart twists. I hope so fucking badly that this works.

“I’m sorry this has been such a bumpy road for you.”

I clear my throat and suck air in through my nostrils, trying to keep it together. “She’s worth it.”

My best friend just smiles. “You really love her, don’t you?”

“So much it hurts,” is my honest reply.

His smile grows. “Good.”

That’s when the greenhouse shows up in the distance on the right-hand side of the road. I point at it. “Pull in there, you fucking masochist.”

He laughs as he signals.

I pull out the list in my back pocket, praying like hell my plan will be enough to win her back.

Or at the very least, make her smile. So I can live my life knowing that all her dreams came true.