Page 56 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“Well, I can’t imagine why; you’re easy to believe in. You’re not just ‘trying’ to do this, youaredoing it. You’ve already got, what? Four more elopements scheduled for February and March? These are all word-of-mouth recommendations. You aren’t even advertising Elope to Tahoe yet.” She smiles again and I smile back, reaching to grab her hand. “This isn’t a pipe dream. It’s your passion. I can see it every time you pick up your camera. Your clients see that too, and they’re bringing theirdreams of getting married here to you. You can’t walk away from this.”
“What if I fail? What if I throw away the life I have now and I fail?”
“You won’t.”
“But what if I do?”
“Then you’ll figure it out. Do you think I haven’t spent some part of every day for the last two months wondering how I failed so epically that I no longer have either my business or the family I always envisioned?”
“Breck, I—no, you didn’t…”
“Believe me, those thingsfeellike failures. I might’ve sold the company and made a profit… but to be without it, to have nothing left of the legacy I thought I was building…” I scratch at my jaw. “To have poured everything I had into a nine-year relationship with a woman I thought I’d be with forever, only to have her walk away without a second glance? Yeah, that feels like failing.”
She’s so quiet. I wonder if I’ve said too much, but I can’t seem to stop. “You know what, though? I’m learning thatIam not that business, and I wasn’t just a partner to Talia. Those two things didn’t define me then, and they don’t define me now. Adventure Chasers lives on, maybe not with my name attached to it, but I built it, and that sale has given me the means to build something else, maybe something better.
“Even if you fail at Runaway Elopements—which you won’t, I won’t let you—it will not make you a failure. It’ll be something that you build on, create around, grow from. So long as you’re fighting to move forward, you’ll never be a failure. Never.”
Her turquoise eyes haven’t left my face for a second, and I’ve watched every word hit their mark. They’re hitting their mark for me too. Even though I’m saying these things about myself,it’s the first time I’m fully and completely understanding just how far I’ve come in the last couple of months.
“Please, Rory. Let me help you.”
She smiles. “We can build Willow Tree Elopements together?”
“Willow Tree Elopements?” Tears prick my eyes, each word said with awe.
She nods. “I’ve been thinking about names since we talked about expanding this into a real business. Did you know that willows represent strength and resilience, vitality and new life? It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”
It’s my turn to nod. I can’t speak, too choked up that Rory would consider naming her business after the most important person in my life.
“She’s going to be okay, Breck.” She wipes a tear from my cheek and I lean into the touch. She’s right. Willow will be okay, and Rory will be too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Breck
Istand in the middle of a condo, its panoramic windows lining the back wall and showcasing the imposing Sierra Nevada mountains beyond. Our last condo was comfortably spacious, but this one, this one is something else. I might be splurging a little, especially considering I’m no longer getting the friends and family discount from Rory and Wes’s parents, but screw them. I’ll happily pay a bit more to distance myself and Rory from their control.
Then there’s the—
“Daddy, can I go in the hot tub?” Willow asks as she slides up next to me,Risky Business–style, with socks on her feet and a swimsuit on. I give her a once-over and laughter bubbles out of me, my shoulders shaking with it.
“That is quite the look, Bear.”
She huffs likes she’s seventeen, jutting her chin up, and ignores my comment. The hot tub she’s pointing to is roomy enough for at least six people, and we are only three.
Three.
My brain’s been gnawing on the idea of Rory moving in with us since I began my search in earnest on Monday morning. By some twist of fate, this brand-new listing popped up and I immediately booked it for the next five weeks.
“Let me help you get the cover off.” I slide my bare feet into my boots, not bothering to tie them or to grab a jacket. The frigid air hits my lungs when we step out, and I make quick work of the cover, checking the temperature isn’t too hot for Willow, and leave her to it. She seems content to sit with her arms crossed on the ledge, chin resting there, watching the skiers and snowboarders make their descent down the snowy slopes.
I’d happily watch her stare up at the mountain all day, but the doorbell rings. “Holler if you need me, okay?” I shout over my shoulder as I close the door, leaving a slight crack so I’ll be able to hear her.
I swing open the light blue door to find Rory with two suitcases behind her.
“We have to stop meeting this way,” I quip.
“What way would that be? At doors?” The pink of her cheeks matches the pink of her lips—lips that part in a smile when she looks at me.
