Page 83 of Unravel Me

“My father texted me while you were gone. Jackson won’t be pressing charges. That’s good, right?” I offer, but Rhett barely spares me a glance, so I retreat to the bathroom in defeat, and finish my routine. Twenty minutes later, when I come out, Rhett’s on the sofa, his back to me.

I resist shaking him awake to demand we talk. I know better than to force someone to talk before they are ready.

That’s what got us into this mess, isn’t it?

The sheets are cold against my bare legs as I slide into the king size bed. Down pillows surround me as I breathe in the linen spray.

I lie down, knowing I won’t be sleeping any time soon. My eyes are tired, but my stomach hungrily gurgles. The bed is also monstrous; it’s meant to be shared. Even my feet feel lonely without a certain hound dog lying on them.

Hours later, as the night outside grows pitch black, and the room is quiet besides the humming AC, I continue to toss and turn.

In my feverish bouts, all I can think about is perhaps our love was destined to exist only in the sweet embrace of summer, like a bittersweet memory. Maybe we were never meant to be anything more than a forbidden secret, a passionate romance flared up only to extinguish as quickly as it ignited.

I finally succumb to sleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night and reach across the bed, searching for him. When my hand finds an empty pillow, the consequences of my actions crash into me.

I had it all planned: breakfast delivered to the room, a day at the pool, relaxing and swimming. We had dinner reservations at a new restaurant on the water. They were supposed to have great seafood, and Rhett rolled his eyes when I told him, saying nothing is better than Carolina fried fish and hush puppies; but then he winked at me and said he couldn’t wait for it.

That was the plan, but of course, nothing went as planned. The next morning, I woke to an empty room, Rhett’s suitcase still here, but he had made himself sparse. I have one text from him.

Rhett: Went to grab some coffee, be back in 30.

Fisting the thick duvet in my hand, I let out a frustrated groan. Maybe this was good; he was getting some fresh air, with a fresh mind, caffeinating, doing all his favorite things. I could talk to him this morning; we could sit down at breakfast and talk. So, I placed an order for room service, getting all his favorites: thick cut bacon, pancakes, a fruit platter, and eggs benedict for me. Plus, more coffee.

My stomach is in knots, but I hope the smell of food will help. Slipping on a matching set of white linen shorts and a top, I comb my hair and even put on a little makeup.

“Oh, you’re back, good,” I say as casually as possible as soon as Rhett enters the room. The black baseball cap he wore, which usually makes me weak at the knees, doesn’t do anything but draw attention to his tired blue eyes. I suppose he didn’t sleep any better than I did.

“Can we talk? Please.” Wringing my hands together, I step towards him as he sets a single coffee cup down. Part of me hoped he would come back with coffee for me; it would’ve been a sign that all hope wasn’t lost.

His jaw stiffens.

“Audrey…”

“Rhett.” His glassy blue eyes lift slowly to mine. “Please.”

He nods, tossing his hat on the bed, fluffing his dark blonde hair back into shape. “I ordered breakfast...in case you were hungry. We can eat and talk on the balcony. Just like home.”

Just like home. His eyes darted away.

We don’t speak until the food arrives a few minutes later. Rhett and I sit on the secluded patio off the bedroom, overlooking the lush garden. I chose the best suite to give him privacy, not caring if it cost a small fortune. I wanted him to feel comfortable.

“You didn’t need to order all this food.” He finally speaks as I set the table for us.

“Well, I didn’t eat last night…and I thought you’d be hungry, too. This was in the plan all along.”

I pop a piece of fruit into my mouth, anxious as he sits there stiffly in the chair, looking out over the garden. He finally sips his coffee, and I let out a tiny breath. Rhett’s never silent for long. That’s why I loved him. He always knows the right thing to say.

“Who are you hiding from, Audrey?”

“What?” His question catches me off guard, coming out of nowhere. His voice feels distant, even though he’s right beside me. Rhett’s knee bounces slightly as I lean in closer, hoping it will somehow help me grasp the question.

Then Rhett turns to face me, his full attention now making me pull back. It was always too much in a good way, but now it feels like too much in a way that frightens me. Like he sees right through me.

“I stayed up all night, thinking…wondering…who this girl I fell in love with is.” The raspy pain in his voice jolted me, so I reached across the table for his hand, but he didn’t reciprocate.

“I’m me...the same person on the rooftop, the one you asked to dance...I’m me. I’m not hiding from you.”

A flicker of uncertainty washes across his face as desperation floods me. I never had to fight for a relationship…and now I wish I wouldn’t have taken it for granted. He shakes his head, but before he can reply, I rush on.